What sort of place had I come to, and among what kind of people? What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked?
A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse, and the great door swung back.
Within, stood a tall old man, clean shaven save for a long white moustache, and clad in black from head to foot, without a single speck of colour about him anywhere.
“Welcome to my house! Enter freely and of your own free will!” The instant that I had stepped over the threshold, he moved impulsively forward, and holding out his hand grasped mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect which was not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead than a living man.
“Count Dracula?”
“I am Dracula, and I bid you welcome, Mr. Harker, to my house.”
Excerpt from Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1847-1912)
My friends laugh at it, but I am not lying when I say I went to Romania mainly to know the setting of the famous novel about the Count, which I deeply love once again every time I read it. The Carpathians, the Count and the gypsies are three images that have always jumped into my mind whenever I hear the word “Romania” uttered by some traveller, or whenever I found its map in Geography books.
So, at the beginning of spring in the Northern hemisphere, I embarked upon my first visit to this mysterious Eastern country that, curiously enough, Bram Stoker never set foot upon but intuited with delicate precision.
Of course, Romania is more, much more than the story of Vlad Țepeș, the Walachian legendary prince, who was Stoker’s inspiration, famous mainly for fighting against the Turks and Hungarians and impaling his enemies, back in the XVth C.
The country offers its visitors a singular combination of exquisite traditions, attractive architecture, virgin nature and, yes, constant (and sometimes unexpected and funny) references to the legend with which the Irish author would immortalize vampirism.
During my almost two-month stay in different cities, I had the chance of getting in close contact with the inhabitants of this exotic country, and what I mostly remember about that experience is their authentic sense of hospitality: from the beautiful and nice Melitte, the girl that drove me all the way from Cluj to Timisoara, and my Cocuhsurfer, Florin, in Bucarest, to the owners of the hostels where I stayed, all of them made me feel at home. And indeed, it was in the first country where I deeply felt at home because, in more than one occasion, in different contexts, I met Romanians who did not call themselves “Romanian” but “world citizens”, or who just disregarded nationalities, stating with a magnificent and somewhat enigmatic attitude that “someone’s origin is of no importance”.
My visit began in the capital city, Bucarest: four rainy days and rather low temperatures did not allow me to live this city with as much detail as I would have liked. However, while strolling along its wide avenues and admiring the magnificent buildings downtown, no maps or umbrellas in my hands, it was possible for me to believe I was revisiting an autumnal Buenos Aires in Argentina, except for two undeniable realities that made me wake up from my daydreaming: the fascinating Romanian language, which feraciously called my attention from the names of streets and the conversations from passers-by, and the formidable Palace of Parliament which, almost from every compass point, stands out with simple grandeur in the heart of the city.
From Bucarest I was able to travel to Brașov for only 1 (one) Euro, and a snow and wind storm welcomed me to the historical region of Transylvania, very close to the Carpathians. Of this arrival, worthy of a Gothic novel (I swear the remisse driver was clad all in black and wore a long and white moustache), I only keep a photo of poor quality I was able to take with my cellular phone: to look for my camera in the far corners of my backpack meant, at that moment, wasting my time and the opportunity to embody a XXIst century Jonahan Parker!
Brașov, with its Muntele Tâmpa, its Biserica Neagră (Black Church), Republicii street and the unmistakable medieval atmosphere that characterizes it, becomes a must-see for all those who are attracted to Transylvania and wish to witness this European magical latitude that merges East and West.
From Brașov, I made a one-day visit to the town called Bran which, although captivating in its own right, is nevertheless an enticement for Dracula and Vlad Țepeș’s fans, with a suffocating complex of street stands daily selling thousands of souvenirs in honour of the Count. In fact, there is a castle in Bran but it is rumoured that our friend Vlad only spent there a couple of days (if he ever did) on his way to Bucarest. The prince was actually born in the city of Sighișoara, and Cetatea Poenari (Castle Poenari) was his true fortress.
After six days, I went to Sibiu. The only thing I will say to those who stop at this city is that they will become addicted to getting lost in its paved narrow streets at sunset, under the peaceful but ever-present watch of the roofs of houses (yes, houses in Sibiu do have eyes and can really see you!).
From Sibiu I travelled North to Cluj-Napoca. Rain had become my inseparable travel partner and, together, we went sightseeing through the strange beauty of this city that, holding the highest amount of inhabitants in the region, is also the home of a wide Hungarian community. Luckily, the sun uncovered its rays on my last day there.
Finally, Timișoara was waiting for me with one of the most fascinating experiences in this trip, and worldwide friends in Exit Routine hostel.
Click here to read about Timișoara, and here to read about Exit Routine Hostel.
Those Romanian days left me eager for more. I still want to see the cities in the snowy winter, trek in the Carpathian heights and sightsee around the Eastern regions of Bucovina and Moldova which, they say, are really worth visiting. Of course, my to-do-list includes Sighișoara, Cetatea Poenari, Arefu, Bistrița and the Borgo Pass, all of which will be like an overdose of vampires!
Tips:
If, like me, one of the reasons you want to visit Romania is the Count, I suggest:
- Reading the original novel by Bram Stoker: a masterpiece of the Gothic genre, which far overshadows any cinematographic version shot up to date that I have seen and
- Watching Nosferatu, the Vampire, a 1922 silent movie directed by F. W. Murnau, and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992, Francis Ford Coppola’s version. Two completely different aesthetic and textual approaches, but each perfect in itself. You cannot miss them!
The Ways of Infinity 
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