(A technical situation. . .on the river cruise boat, it appears that I can only upload a few pics at a time. So for now I will split blogs into smaller parts.)
Honestly, truly honestly, I thought Bucharest would be a second rate city and one we HAD to go to because that’s where our tour started. Mark me as WRONG!! I come away with my hat in my hand and my tail between my legs. Both pre-and post-communism the city sports historic buildings, restored buildings, and a busy-ness as evidenced by traffic jams amidst cafes, fashion, and students.
We’ve learned that Romania is a blend of so many cultures and languages. We’ve heard stories of living under communism. . .2 hours of TV per day, one hour of which was news celebrating Caeucescu, 1/2 hour of patriotic music and. .wait for it. . .1/2 hour of American TV showing how decadent and disgusting we really were. What show?? DALLAS!
But I’ll write more about communism later, yet I have a new understanding of why our one figure skating exchange student, Oleg from Perm, couldn’t eat enough bananas at our house. (BTW, I just saw troops being mobilized in Perm and have this sickening feeling that it could be Oleg, who we loved and have completely lost touch with).
More food, a string quartet playing a tango (no, we did not dance!), and off we went to our river boat.
Time to say farewell to the Radisson Blu and move toward our boat.
Well, whichever it is, it’s truly beautiful. Whereas Bran was a military outpost and also a home, this was constructed with beauty and elegance in mind.
Guarded by a few erstwhile knights who guided “(once) young maidens” into the men’s bathroom and protected their privacy (true story), these guys continue to show up in our palace tour.
The “real” King CArol I was a great hunter, depicted in hunting frescoes in the courtyard.
Meanwhile, I continued to imagine life in such a grand place. With Murano chandeliers, seating for exactly 26 at the table,
whimsical staircases leading to nowhere,
busts and carvings, life in this palace must have been easy indeed.
With central vacuuming, central heating (those beautiful tiled stoves are fake),
Oh wait, that’s not a stove, it’s a. . . ???
electric lights (hydroelectric generator), and flushing toilets, life here was a step up from the norm of the day.
And one would feel quite safe and protected with a collection of over 4000 swords and various weapons, including one to behead a lion.
Oh, and that guy. . .following me around. .. looking dashing. . .
Now if I were the Queen, I’d spend my leisure in the garden, feet up, sipping something nice, knitting a long garment.
Oh, I guess I should really tell just the tiniest bit of history of this Transylvanian gem:
Started in 1873 and finished in 1914 by King Carol I, the first king of Romania. His Queen Elizabeth lived there with him until he died, at which time the construction halted and the time on the clock never changed. Caeuscaeu didn’t like it much and thought he’d change it into a hotel. Hmmm. . .said the Romanians. Amazingly, a fungus was “discovered” in the woodwork, which is actually the entire inside, and if any wood were cut, that dang fungus would get all over the workers! What a miracle. 🤣
The palace was saved,it never became a hotel, and Caeuscaeu never set foot in it again! Romanians. . . .great ingenuity!
It has 170 rooms, 10 are open to the public, and it is owned by the descendants of the royal family of Romania. They have a deal with he government and garner 11,000 Euros a month. But they don’t do much in terms of upkeep so there’s a bit of tension with the government.
Don’s fave. . .the Hallmark channel. . .guess what we’ll be watching when we get home.
Peles Castle.. .or is it a palace? Whatever you want to call it, we loved the strength of the oak and walnut , the decor, and the romance! A most beautiful spot indeed!
Transylvania, that is. A few photos of the beautiful land and people. . .
The alpine homes, babbling brooks, clean air, mountain outcroppings, families living with or without gas for cooking. . .these are my impressions of Transylvania. Dracula,. . . .take a back seat!!
Yes, actually, it’s true, although it must be called “sparkling wine “ since those French have that name locked up. Azuga Winery in the small town of Azuga is one of the only above ground “”cellars” in the world. The 6 foot thick walls, bricks on the ceiling, and moss hold a constant temperature, perfect for these sparklers.
The grapes come from their own vineyards, some local, some on the Black Sea. Our guide described the entire process, which was a good primer for us since we’re going to Champagne Alley aka Epernay, France in December. I’m sure we will hear the process repeated repeatedly!!
And then the tasting. .. three sparklers, but the first was the winner! Actually, this winery supplies the royal family of Romania, and the first taste confirmed why.
The Chardonnay grapes and the magic of Azuga created a perfect sip. And. . .only $8 a bottle!!
BUT. . .try to find this in the US??!! Two wine merchants have not been able to procure it, although our cousin Franny found it online for $123 a bottle!!
Dinner was another “groaner” and we continue to insist that we will not eat so much. (Pants on fire??!!)
A visit to a local grocery store in Bucharest produced a carry-home bottle, which we will save for a special occasion! And we’ll remember this wonderful sojourn in Romania. . .
Vlad the Impaler. . .aka Vlad Tepes Dracul. . . The greatest hero of Romania. WhAattt???!!
OK, let me try to make this simple.
1. Vlad was just taken as a young boy from his family in Romania to Turkey by the Ottomans who taught him Islamic ways. Was he abused? Did he learn that homosexuality was not allowed? Your guess. . . .
2. Vlad returns to his homeland determined to route out the invading Ottomans who he despises because of a) his years of abuse, b) his love of Romania.
3.Impalement starts at the rectum and ends at the throat with a sharp pierced stake, avoiding vital organs. So the Ottoman Turks, who were Islamic, lost out in two ways when they met their death as invaders. . . 1) They would not go to heaven because their “exit” had been violated ( against Islamic law/ homosexuality), 2) they died an agonizing death while knowing they’d never go to heaven.
Bran Castle was a military outpost and in actual fact, Vlad never lived there. But it was convenient for Bram Stoker, who also never visited Romania but learned about Vlad and his convenient name Dracul meaning “devil” as well as Romanian stories and myths of the undead, the iron maiden and blood baths. . .well, it just all fits together to make a darn good story.
But back to Vlad and his hero status. He defended Romania to such an extent that at one point as the ottomans were invading he impaled over 20,000 people and displayed them as what was known as a “forest of impalements.” He didn’t mess around, ruled on behalf of Romania, was probably mentally unbalanced, and remains a hero for defending Romania.
But the castle, what about the castle. Oh, it’s a long story, but it was actually a given to Queen Maria and King Ferdinand ( she didn’t like him a whole lot), and she’s the one who lived in the castle!
She was very beautiful, she had 6 children (4 by her husband and 2 by someone else).
Honestly, the interior of the castle is medieval, very nice, fairly unexciting, and we’re glad we went. it is now owned by an American who lives in Venice.
But the town of Bran. . . well, they have Bram Stoker to thank for putting them on the map. It’s a maze of eateries, souvenir kiosks, and a huge bazaar of tchotchkes surrounding the castle. Half a day there was plenty for us.
So thanks , Vlad and Bram and Hollywood, for putting together an enduring story which lives on and on and has given this small town an economic boom they might not have otherwise enjoyed. And Vlad, all I can say is. . .he was monstrous in his punishments and there was plenty of blood. Mr. Stoker did him well and created an enduring monster of which Vlad would be proud!
The morning started out on the bus to explore Brasov, the crown jewel smack in the middle of Transylvania,which, by the way, lives up to its name meaning “through the woods.” The area is lush and beautiful with trees, streams, and wildlife (bears, owls, wolves, deer, black goats) so much so that Prince Charles, aka King Charles III, fell in love with the area and bought property here about 10 years ago. He and Camilla visit yearly.
But I digress, which is easy to do since on this tour we are continually immersed in “Learning and Discovery” opportunities and our guide Dragos (pronounced Dra-gosh ) knows everything. And they regale us with bits’n’pieces of info continually!
Our first stop was a beautiful church in the hills where we were treated to information from one of the priests about the history of the church and area. Most interesting to me was what happened during communist times. He and his uncles hid out in the mountains for 3 years to avoid being killed and to insure that Christianity would endure. The church and cemetery were not bombed and nearby the first school that taught Romanian language was established. The church was lively this morning with parishioners coming and going, kneeling, standing, or praying.
I had entered the church and took one photo before we were told not to take any inside church photos. Ooops. ..
I don’t know if this is true, but in my mind this is an example of communists trying to “erase” religion. One icon restored and the exact same one across from it vandalized (?) by those trying to get rid of religion.
Then back down from the hilltop village to the town of Brasov. The ancient entrance to the town held a warning: By the presence of five spires with pointed tips, know that you were entering a town under the rule of Vlad III, also known as Vlad the Impaler. Misdeeds were dealt with harshly—hands cut off or person impaled (which we learned more about later).
It was Sunday, and as is the custom in many places in Europe, people flock to the town to eat ice cream, see the sights, hang out, and enjoy a non-work day. Brasov was crowded. The line for the cable car was 1.5 hours and we decided to sit and have hot chocolate instead!
We each bought a “hot chocolate stick” with a glob of chocolate on the end which you languidly stir into your hot milk. Ah, slow travel. . .
But we did go into the “Black Church” which is no longer black but white. Dragos told us it had been blackened in the fire of 1689, but Wikipedia says it was black due to environmental impact. Who knows, although earlier in the day when our bus stopped for a panoramic view of Brasov we noted smog settling over the valley. But now, it’s cleaned and holds a ton of history.
It’s the largest Gothic church in southeastern Europe and was quite different from the many churches we’ve seen in Italy. This one had a wood floor, beautifully hand painted wood panels, and a “Pennsylvania Dutch” feeling. But wait. . .that’s because the Saxons/Germans continually invaded and had a long presence here. It is now Lutheran and services are held on Sundays for the small Lutheran community in Brasov.
BTW, the church holds 5,000 people because originally it was built as the safe place where all the town could go when being invaded.
Inside were other treasures, most notably the largest collection of Anatolian carpets in Europe. Tradition says that most were created by children cause their fingers were so tiny, and many went blind after creating one or two because the work was so fine. The church is fitted with UV filtered glass to protect this valuable collection.
The organ is massive—4,000pipes,and is also the largest in southeastern Europe. Wish we could have heard it!
Also in the church is a painting of Mary wearing black robes, one of the only of its kind in the world.
The painting was not destroyed by the Reformtion or the great fire of 1689.
After this very strenuous trip around the church it was time for another respite, this time in the tea shop right across from the entrance. I must admit, it was the best cuppa tea Ive had in a while and was clearly made with loose leaf tea, perhaps PG Tips!
A walk around the shops, a pic in front of the fountain, and we decided we had enough for this half day because in the evening we were going to a wine dinner. So back to the Aro Palace for some “feet up” time and to prepare for the next event!
As a fellow (American) traveler remarked to me at lunch, “We could be headed that way and we don’t want it.”
After this morning’s presentations, well, actually long before that, I’d agree, but hearing the first hand, still raw emotion from those who lived under communist rule, my commitment to democracy strengthened through listening to them.
Edmund was 15 years old when he organized and led a group of friends. He recounted his best friend, right beside him, being shot in the head with dum-dum bullets, outlawed by the Geneva convention, right beside him. . .brains blow out. The mayhem of military vehicles covered with barbed wire to push and maim protestors, soldiers firing from rooftops on civilians, and yet, the capturing of the Romanian flag, cutting out the communist emblem, and proudly wearing it to proclaim victory.
We asked how a 15 year old could have led his group of teenagers. He said that in those times kids were forced to grow up faster and tougher. He actually ran away from home to lead this group despite his father’s fears. He joked that the realism of today is that teenagers are so involved with their devices they have little idea of the world andwe’ll wait another 25 years for them to grow up !
History gives this account on Wikipedia. . .
The Romanian Revolution (Romanian: Revoluția Română) was a period of violent civil unrest in Romania during December 1989 as a part of the Revolutions of 1989 that occurred in several countries around the world.[8] The Romanian Revolution started in the city of Timișoara and soon spread throughout the country, ultimately culminating in the show trial and execution of longtime Romanian Communist Party (PCR) General Secretary Nicolae Ceaușescu and his wife Elena, and the end of 42 years of Communist rule in Romania. It was also the last removal of a Marxist–Leninist government in a Warsaw Pact country during the events of 1989, and the only one that violently overthrew a country’s leadership and executed its leader; according to estimates, over one thousand people died and thousands more were injured.[9]
Edmund and our local guide Lillian recounted, often with great emotion, the years of no food, no windows, no heat, no water, extreme deprivation of people, forced to work for Caeusescu’s megalomaniacal vision. Edmund’s grandfather was imprisoned for 3 years, forced to work to build a canal to the Black Sea. His mother died of breast cancer in 4 months. Hospitals had no medicine, rusty pipes, no heat. I could hear in Lillian’s voice the anger she held toward the communist government and its inhumane treatment. One person was worth a wagonload of salt and could be easily bargained.
One of Edmund’s “prize” possessions is a bullet which had lodged in a balcony railing. He keeps it as a reminder of the horror of the time and a beacon to lead us to never relive such times again. How a bullet changes the lives of all it touches. . .the person who is wounded or dead, the family, the community.
The morning was filled with emotion and gratitude.
Freedom is not free.
Our bus tour of Bucharest continued; it was Saturday and that means market day. I wanted to eat those grilled sausages!
And then we were enroute to Brasov, after yet another filling lunch. Oh my lawd am I ever going to have to lose these extra pounds!
Brasov. . .in the Carpathian Mountains. . .home to bears, bobcats, and the odd vampire or two ! More to come. . .
In fact, our walking guide this morning told us the true story which I’ll tell later when we visit Vlad’s castle in Transylvania. But today it was just about a leisurely breakfast with Mike and Marty, then a walking tour, then an even more leisurely lunch!
The Stravolpoleos Monastery was a sweetly hidden, small building to which we returned in the evening to her 5 nuns sing mass. I believe this is Greek Orthodox, thus the icons.
Bucharest is filled with influences from Rome, France, Greece, Arabia, Turkey, Russia. Of course, we heard much aboutCommunist times, banks, robberies, lies, and subterfuge.
During Communist times this location was a supermarket whose shelves were always bare. The market is right on a main thoroughfare so heads of state and dignitaries would ride down this way when they visited. So before these important visits, a truck would pull up with loads of food and goods, stock the shelves, and the foreign visitors would go away thinking, “”””Hey, those Romanians are eating well.” After the dignitaries left, the food trucks returned and cleaned off the shelves.
Communism at its best.A French influence with a covered passageway, now mostly very popular coffee and hookah spots that go well into the night.
We covered a lot of territory and learned a lot of history and the influence of so many cultures and languages. My impressions of Bucharest is that of a lively university city, lots of eateries, tons of history and influences. I don’t yet know how people make a living or if there are industries. Prices are extremely low by US standards. The 10 lei bill is worth $2.
(An aside—Don asked a flower vendor the price of the bunches, similar to our grocery store bunches. $1.25–very pretty—about a dozen stems. Maybe Ill take photos tomorrow and then I should buy some, but who could I give flowers to? Hmmm. . . .)
The amount and type of facial hair indicated the rank of Turkish (?) men. Or were they Romanian?! Do you ever want to remember everything and then can’t recall the details!!??
After three hours of walking and listening we were ready to sit and eat. We ended at Manuc’s Inn. Here’s the description:
Manuc’s Inn is the oldest operating hotel building in Bucharest, Romania. It also houses a popular restaurant, several bars, a coffee-house, and several stores and an extensive bar. Its massive, multiply balconied courtyard hosted many performances and fairs and was a popular place for Romanian Television crews to shoot folkloric performances. The hotel and restaurant were refurbished in 2007.
Sounded like just the spot for some authentic food. And it was.
Everything from grilled sausages to stuffed cabbage to polenta to stew to Romanian doughnuts to cappuccino to plum brandy. Oh my. . . .The old well housed the wine cooler and autumn flowers adorned the entryway.
As we left lunch we realized that 2.5 hours had elapsed. Slow travel . . .the best.
Passing by a thrift store on the way home we stopped in. Marty scored a $15 full length down jacket, Mike got a warm pullover, and we found a Duke sweatshirt waiting for a large person.
A trip to Mike and Marty’s apartment gave us a chance to SIT and BE and do what adults do. . . .
Don and I returned to hear the nuns sing and then made our way home. My hot water bottle is my new best friend, and I’ve unpacked my folding cane for the future. I haven’t counted steps but maybe I should start doing it. No, maybe that would be too scary. Anyhow, great day. . .and it’s only DAY ONE!!
. . . And other observations on sitting in the last row on a trans-Atlantic flight.
EWR became a free-for-all as two flights for Frankfurt and Vienna converged as nerves were fraying and time was shortening and an airline worker called out, “Anyone going to Vienna come over here.” Suddenly there were no more lines and it was every person for him/herself.
But we made it through, found our gate, boarded the flight, and found our seats. . . All the way back to row 49, the last in the plane. “Oh great, we’ll be close to the bathroom and there’s more leg room.”
Yet , in all honest respect for the 1/2 of our flight which were Hasidic Jews, the flight was unparalleled in so many ways. . .groups of 5-8 men congregating beside our row, prayers being offered, and who knows what being discussed at length and throughout the flight. Lufthansa’s mask policy was ignored,despite travelers and flight attendants asking respectfully to don masks. Let’s just say it was a memorable flight.
Flight number 2 from Frankfurt from Bucharest was thankfully uneventful. The biggest deal was zipping Don’s legs back onto his convertible pants!
Bucharest airport was friendly and we found our ATM for “lei” (5 lei=1USD) . Our taxi took us to the apartment—$11 for a one hour ride from the airport.
Our immaculate and comfy apartment is in an old Soviet-style building and features a scary elevator. And then, we were there. . .
$55/night
A brief nap refreshed us and then we were out and about, meeting up with friends Mike and Marty Dows who were coming off a 3 week trip through Albania, Slovenia, Bosnia, and Croatia.
We know nothing about the statue right down the street from us, but loved the energy of the musicians and dancers!
Browsing our way through the old town we sought out a library whose cafe was closed but beautiful nonetheless.
We ended up at the Van Gogh cafe for a light supper and a few good photos.
A goat cheese and fig salad plus Mike’’s Romanian doughnuts. . .oh my. . .
We agreed that America ain’t all that great until we can post this sign on our restrooms.
An after dinner pasteis was a fun surprise!
Ending our first partial day I’m grateful to be sitting in bed, and hoping to not sleep through our 10:30 am potential walking tour!!
Or maybe it’s just that Overseas Adventure Travel canceled our October 1 departure on the Eastern Europe/Transylvania trip that our friends Mike and Marty were going on and we invited ourselves along!
So we leave tomorrow, a week after returning from Italy.
A surprise in our garden awaited us when we returned from our last trip—
Could it be the Travelocity Gnome?! Do the neighbors consider this our vacation home? Is this a not-so-subtle message?
Although we’d love to take him along to pose with us, we travel light. There’s no space for the Roamin’ Gnome. But we’ll share more passport stamps with him when we return!
wheresweinberger 