Our tour guide was Petru, our driver Nicki. Petru had amazing English. He came across as a foppish mid-thirties posh boy from down South England. There was no sense of a Romanian accent. It was quite perplexing. I think others on the coach wondered, too.
During the trip, he told us that he had been taught by an anglophile teacher in year 6. The only homework set was to watch English films, Zulu, Lawrence of Arabia, etc. But then the expectation was that the class would have to act out their favourite scene to the rest of the class. Her rationale was that she didn’t want another generation speaking English with a stupid Russian accent.’ She definitely was successful in her endeavours to achieve this!
So the day had come for our Halloween trip to Transylvania. I had looked at lots of options, but the easiest way seemed a guided tour. The downside is the prescribed times, etc. Also, putting up with other people….and other people putting up with us!
I had been a bit anxious about finding the right location to meet, I shouldn’t have as there was a mass exodus leaving Bucharest, with a whole plethora of tour operators. We had been advised that the trip would take 12 hours in total, that we couldn’t eat on the coach ( but should bring a packed lunch) that we could only drink water. None of those things transpired to be correct.
Located the coach easily and were second in the queue. The family in front, from England, were discussing where they were going to sit, deciding the back of the coach would be the best option. Hooray, I thought, we could sit at the very front, it would make it all much easier. Turning to Pete, I vocalised this. Getting on the coach, behind said family, to seeing them sitting at the front. It was 7 o’clock in the morning, I was tired, and I had what I felt quite rational feelings. I felt like punching her lights out when she gave us a smug, self -satisfied smile. Aghhhhhh!
Nicki had been a paratrooper in a past life. We were assured that we were in good hands with him. He must have been the shortest paratrooper in Romanian history. He could barely see above the steering wheel. Petru called him the ‘mean green driving machine.”
The drive to our first destination was interesting, and Petru knew everything about everything, and funny in and ironic, sardonic way.
We passed oil fields, which was a bit unexpected. There are 152 commercial oil and gas fields, most of them onshore but also offshore operations in the shallow waters of the Black Sea, in Romania. During the Second World War, 37% of Germany’ s oil came from Romania, so when they switched sides, it must have really hurt.
Even before this time, their old industry put them ahead of most of the rest of Europe. April 1, 1857, one thousand oil street lamps became active across the city of Bucharest, in a huge display of its modernity, illuminating the cobblestone streets of what many called “the Paris of the Balkans.”
There were lots of delays of the way to Peles Castle. The road, Petru stressed, was not fit for purpose. There should be a motorway, which has been discussed for years. With his deap-pan way, Petru stated that if they had started to construct it using a spoon, it would have been made by now. There are 2 million residents in Bucharest, and 6,000 registered cars, despite the great transport system.
We passed beautiful countryside before finally reaching Peles. On the way, we all had to write our name on a form. In case we were stopped by the police, all seemed to be grouped in threes. Petru said there was a reason for this, one could read, one could write, and the third was there to protect the intellectuals!
We had to stop at a garage because there would be no toilets at Pele, Petru advised us. It was hard to believe this, not knowing if it was his sense of humour or true. It was true!
As we passed through the small villages and countryside, Petru would regale us with anecdotes and stories. He said he had had an idyllic childhood living with his grandparents on their farm, whilst his parents worked in the city, only returning to them when he was school age. He studied art and became a satirical cartoonist. His father didn’t approve and thought he should do something manly, like construction with his teeth!
We arrived at Pele’s Castle nestled in the beautiful autumnal backdrop of Prahova County. Built between 1873-1914, Peles Castle was the summer residence of the first Royal Family of Romania, Carol I, and Elizabeth.
From the outside, it looks like a fairytale castle, turrets, balconies, and sculptures around the periphery. The inside is a riot of different designs and styles across each of the 160 rooms. Utterly over the top, marble from Italy, Murano glass chandeliers, wooden carving throughout.60,000 works of art in total.
The first European castle to be powered by locally produced electricity.
Over 4000 pieces of armoury and weaponry.
Ultimately, it’s quite oppressive. The tour only took in the ground floor, which I was very glad about. That sounds awful. It was beautiful in many ways but very much a sensory overload.
The last Queen, Marie, felt similar, complaining about the lack of natural light. Even Ceausescu didn’t like it, boarding it up. But I feel the setting is the part I loved. I always feel at odds looking at the opulence of times gone by, recognising that everyone else’s would have been pretty dismal.
From here, we travelled to Brasov, a town in Transylvania, ringed by the Carpathian mountains. Coming into the town, you pass one brutalist block of flats after the other, typical of most urban areas Petruc informed us. People forcibly moved from the countryside to the urban areas to work in the factories. This process was called Systematization.
Romania has grown, got smaller, grown, etc, with borders changing, and an influx of different colonists. This area was settled by Hungarians, and there is still strong evidence of this history.
The centre of Brasov was beautiful. Although, confusingly, we were given 1 1/2 hours there to eat, despite being asked to take a packed lunch! Incidentally, everyone was munching away in the coach, so very mixed messages.
One of the first things you notice once you are in Brasov’s old town is the iconic Brasov sign reminiscent of the Hollywood sign,high above the town.
Called the Black Church as it had a large fire, which more or less destroyed it. The most important gothic church in the country.
Pete wasn’t well at all. Coughing, sneezing, spluttering, etc, so he went to a pharmacy. The only joy was that the people in front of us in the coach must have wished they had sat elsewhere.
Having eaten a packed lunch already but Petruc mentioned chimney cakes, kurtoskalacs, invented by the Hungarian speaking descended in Transylvania. I was truly excited, as I have seen cooking programmes and YouTube videos about them. Made of sweet yeasty dough, strips are wrapped around a tubular contraction over charcoals like a spit. Dipped in sugar, then turned on the spit at regular intervals. I believe in some areas, they have them at weddings, and the guests take turns turning the crank. Adding melted butter, which caramelises, until crisp.
Worried about missing the coach, we headed back a bit too early,so Pete went for a wander. He has to be more careful, I seem to have become a magnet for toothless men. This one was from Armenia and took a bit too much interest, ogling me with his one eye.
Next stop, Bran Castle, ridiculously busy on the roads. The gates closed at 4, and we literally made in with just a few minutes to spare.
It is very inclusive, even separate camping for vampires!
Rushing to get there on time, the large souvenir market and traditional dancers a blur.
As we were waiting on the slope to get in, we could see the preparations for the weekend long Halloween party. It looked so amazing! A steady techno beat. A lot of the people waiting or passing us by were in costume,there were some very exceptional ones!
What makes Bran Castle famous…Dracula. Bram Stoker based his book on Vlad the Impaler, who was just as cruel and bloodthirsty as Dracula. Why was he called the Impaler? His signature killing was impaling, a grotesque type of torture. A wooden or metal pole inserted through the vagina or rectum, making sure to avoid internal organs. Then, the bodies raised aloft on the poles, to experience a long excruciating death.
I much preferred Bran Castle, a longer history, plainer inside but quirkier.
In some rooms, they had interesting tableaux. This shows the Iele, female Romanian mythical figures. They were seductresses with magical skills. Appearing at night, dancing naked.
It was time to head back,we had a bit of time looking at bits and pieces on the stalls.
I bought some palinka, a distilled spirit, with Hungarian origins, made with a whole range of fruit. It is supposed to be restorative!
The journey home was even longer. We passed Wednesday’s Castle, where the whole series was filmed.
We arrived back to Bucharest at 9.30, very, very tired!
Random Acts of Travelling 