ROMANIA

November 8. CLUJ NAPOCA - SIGHISOARA We overslept in the morning and had to rush to catch our train to Sighisoara.  Our room had been really warm when we went to sleep because the heater was right at the head of the beds.  We had opened the window to cool off but found that the heater was later turned off and our room became freezing cold.  After our previous long day on the train we needed more sleep than we got and ended falling back to sleep after sunrise.  We downed our breakfast, stuffed our breakfast and ran across the street.  Fortunately there wasn't a line at the ticket window and we quickly bought our tickets, this time two little cardboard pieces, and ran to the platform. 

It was just a three hour train ride to Sighisoara, inside the Transylvanian region of Romania.  In the daylight we could see that the Carpathian mountains had given way to more open countryside and rolling hills.  We passed an area of unsightly factories before slowly making our way up a wide valley.  Little medieval villages were dotted on either side, different from the intricate decor of the cottages in Southern Bucovina.  The air was damp with smoke coming out of chimneys in these small villages they looked like somewhere in another time.  When we pulled up to Sighisoara we weren't initially impressed.  It was a much busier place than the sleepy villages we had just passed and the buildings near the station were more modern and in regrettable contrast to the little walled village that we could see perched on two small hilltops at the edge of town.

We got off of the train to find that there was not tourist information booth operating.  Like the one in Bucharest it was supposedly manned by people from the Elvis' Villa Hostel but the tourist season was over and it was empty.  A young guy approached us as we looked through the window and told us that Elvis' Villa was closed but that he could help us find a place to stay.  We turned down his offer but he was determined to convince us otherwise which only served to piss us off.  Rob told him to just go away and that we didn't need any help.  We didn't entirely trust his information anyway and decided to walk past the Elvis' Villa Hostel on our way towards the old town.  It was only a few blocks from the train station and as we headed down the road we saw the same young guy speeding along the other side of the road talking on the phone and trying to reach the hostel before us.  When we entered the gate Rob immediately indicated that we were not with him since was obviously out to get some sort of kickback at our expense.  He still tried to interject himself by telling us that the hostel was being remodeled and they only had one room they could offer us.  The place was obviously undergoing some renovation and the one room they had done was sort of in the middle of everything so we declined.  As we left we warned him not to follow us again and as we took a roundabout way into the old town we kept looking back over our shoulders and up ahead to make sure he didn't reappear.

The little village of old Sighisoara couldn't have been much more than 250 meters wide and about 600 meters long was surrounded by an intact wall with eleven towers of different sizes and shapes.  We zigzagged up a cobblestone path to reach the interior, passing through a grand old clock tower (1648) on the eastern side of the village, whose figurines still make a regular appearance.  Beyond the clock tower we entered into an open square before a large church.  On one corner was a restaurant with a sign in the shape of Dracula positioned out front.  This was birthplace (1431) and former home of Vlad Tepes, or Vlad the Impaler, now a restaurant and pub.  The Dracula paraphernalia in Sighisoara was kept to a tasteful level so it didn't distract from the charm of the town.  We continued down the street to the main square of Piata Cetatii.  The little streets were lined with 16th century Burghur houses that were all well maintained.  On one corner of the square stood the large Casa du Cerb, or The Stag House, a grand old home with red trim and a large stag's head with horns protruding from the corner of the building.   It is now a hotel and restaurant which boasts at having hosted Prince Charles.

Not far off the Piata Cetatii was the only other hostel the Burgh Hostel, formerly the Sighisoara Hostel, and we were very glad that we had persevered in our search for a place to stay.   It was newly redone and had clean well furnished little rooms with new radiators.  We took a three person dorm room that shared a toilet and shower with one other dorm room on the second floor.  There were hardly any other people staying there so we didn't have to share our room or the facilities with anyone during our stay.  The radiator stretched nearly three meters along one wall and was great for drying our laundry.  There was one bunk bed and another twin bed.  The slanted roof and dark wooden beams made it a very cozy place. We had just one little window that opened out over the rooftop of the next building. 

We returned to the square and found a cafe open where we had some lunch.  It was a small two room place with quiches, sandwiches, and desserts that had a display of local handicrafts and looked out onto the sleepy square.  It was chilly outside but there were patches of sun.  As we passed through the square Rob was stopped by a little old woman selling walnuts.  She had a whole bucket of them and was dressed warmly but still wore a skirt and scarf on her head.  He bought a couple to try out and they were awfully good so he went back and bought a bag full to nibble on as we strolled the streets of Sighisoara.

Walking around the compact town it felt like a scene from Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.  The sun had been shining when we arrived but the sky was clouding over and the village was becoming misty.  A long covered wooden staircase from the 14th century led from the walled village up another hill at the back of town to the school house and Catholic church.  It was a steep and rather long climb up those steps.  From the bottom the exit at the top looked like a small window.  It reminded me of the long wooden bridge that the headless horseman crossed in The Legend.  This one was steep and didn't have a flat roof but still the image was there.  

The Catholic Church, the Gothic Biserica din Deal (1345), dominated the the second hill was its vast cemetery.  The names were all German. Romanians are mostly Orthodox.  From the 10th century Transylvania was under Hungarian (Magyar) rule and the 13th century German Saxons were offered free land and tax to settle and defend the region.  When the Turks conquered Hungary in the 16th century Transylvania came under Ottoman rule until it was united with the regions of Wallachia and Moldavia from 1600 to 1687 under Michael the Brave.  In 1687 Transylvania was taken by the Hapsburgs and it wasn't until 1918, with the defeat of Austria-Hungary in WWI, that the regions of Translyvanis, Bucovina, and Banat were returned to Romania.  Transylvania was still 60% Romanian during its occupation but the rest were mostly of Germanic descent.  While many of the Germanic people have since left it is clear from the years on some of the tombstones that at least some continued to live in Sighisoara. 

Returning from our climb to the school and church we ventured back down the hill towards the newer part of Sighisoara, in search of an ATM.  We found one without too much trouble and went exploring around the somewhat dilapidated buildings at the base of the walled city.  As we were peering at the menu of a recommended restaurant we were surprised by Lesley who saw us from inside!  Her plans to travel south through Serbia to reach Kosovo had been thwarted so she had decided to head through Romania.  We joined her for some wine and had something to eat as well.  I tried a tasty Hungarian goulash that was cleverly served with a smiley face on top and the wine was very good.  After sitting for a few hours over some more wine we left and walked Lesley back to her room near the train station before returning to our hostel.  The weather was really cold and that radiator in our room was much appreciated. 

November 9. SIGHSOARA  The breakfast at our hostel was pretty good but just the basic cold cuts, cheese and bread with coffee.  The only other person in the dining room with us was a Japanese guy who was slumped down over his basket of food and sighing repeatedly.  He didn't look up for conversation.  We ate quickly and went out to meet Lesley on the square and planned to get some coffee at the cafe we'd eaten at the day before but it was closed.  It was Sunday so much of the town was closed.  

Lesley hung out on the square and did some writing while we ventured back up the wooden stairs to the cemetery.  It was really misty and felt like Spooky Hollow come to life.  We just wandered along the ridge and down the hill to look at the tombstones and wondered about the Sighisoara of an earlier time.  One collection of tombstones were lined up neatly in their own area with a large memorial at one end.  They were German soldiers from WWI.  When we returned to the square we didn't find Lesley but it was cold out and she'd had to get up and move around to keep warm.  When she returned to ducked into the cafe on the bottom of The Stag House and enjoyed some nice pastries and coffee. 

Lesley was scheduled to leave for Brasov that afternoon so we walked to train station to see her off.  We planned to meet up with her again when we headed to Brasov the next day.  When we returned to the medieval town we stopped to visit the clock tower with its small historical museum inside. The ticket lady was dressed very much like Elvira with jet black hair and cleavage peeking out from her black lace top.  It seemed that some people really got into the spirit of Sighisoara's wicked side.  The floors were small but each level had a neat display about one piece of Sighisoaran history, including a scientific achievements of Hermann Oberth, one of the father's of rocketry.  On the higher floors we could see the insides of the clockworks and the figurines waiting to make their appearance.  We thought something might happen on the quarter of an hour but it didn't.  The views out the top of the tower over the old town were spectacular and were alone worth the price of admission.

The square in front of the tower had tables set up with people selling handicrafts and a few souvenir shops were open for a look  but that was about all there was to "downtown" Sighisoara, a beautiful and charming little place but very little indeed.  For lunch we returned to the cafe below the hotel and enjoyed a delicious and hearty meal with wine.  It was too cold outside to just be idle so after lunch we set off on a tour of the outer wall and all of its towers and the few churches inside the walls.  In the afternoon we returned to the hostel to do some laundry and write while our socks and underwear dried on the radiator.  

For dinner we planned to try Vlad's old home but were suspicious when we found nobody else eating there.  Still, we took a seat and started to look at the menu but the white table clothes and candles didn't go with the head banger music being played at the bar by our waiter while he necked with his girlfriend.  In the end we just got up and left and without much thought just went back to the place where we had eaten lunch.  There were a number of people there which was reassuring and we had another good meal.