A Daughter’s Tribute to her Father: Our Heritage Trip to Romania
Sep 30th, 2007, 06:22 PM
#22
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Hi Nancy,
Thanks for sharing your journey with us through words and pictures. My condolences on the loss of your father.
I'm glad you had the chance to travel with your father back to Romania. Isn't it interesting what you learn when you do that? The best thing is, your father lives on through your stories. My grandma always says that a person lives on for as long as someone thinks of them.
It seems you have some great memories of that trip, even with that scare in the beginning. I look forward to more of your memories and pictures from that trip.
Thanks for sharing your journey with us through words and pictures. My condolences on the loss of your father.
I'm glad you had the chance to travel with your father back to Romania. Isn't it interesting what you learn when you do that? The best thing is, your father lives on through your stories. My grandma always says that a person lives on for as long as someone thinks of them.
It seems you have some great memories of that trip, even with that scare in the beginning. I look forward to more of your memories and pictures from that trip.
Sep 30th, 2007, 07:38 PM
#23
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Thanks, gomicki, we all felt that way. mcnyc, your grandma is very wise! We really did have lots of fun. My Dad was quite the jokester and he didn't let a little language barrier get in the way! We laughed a LOT on this trip.
As an aside before the next installment:
I must apologize for the violence I’m doing to the Romanian language through my inconsistent and absent accent marks on Romanian words and place names. I began by trying to include them, but it takes so long to manually insert them that I’ve sort of dispensed with them.
<b><u>Sunday, September 24: Făgăraş and the ancestral village</u></b>
Mark woke up early and walked to the train station to look for a newspaper. There were none to be found. A relative joked that there are no Sunday papers because Romanians sleep late on Sundays. We had breakfast at the hotel (a separate charge). The food was OK, some cheese, some ham, some vegetables and bread. There was a really delicious breakfast cake (like a stollen), but I think that one of the relatives brought it.
After breakfast we went downtown to find an ATM. There were several in the downtown area, but none of them were working. We could see groups of people walking around the downtown, from ATM to ATM. We tried about three, to no avail. Dad even put his credit card into one ATM to obtain a cash advance. That led to problems a day or two later; the credit card company noticed an unsuccessful attempted use at an ATM and cancelled his card.
We spent the majority of the day with relatives. First we attended services at the Greco Catholic church in Fagaras. The church is new, having been built in the past 6 years. Dad donated the bells for this church, and it was very moving to hear them peal forth before, during and after the service. A little background: when the communists came to power, they prohibited the Greco-Catholic faith, confiscated all of the churches, and gave them to the Orthodox Church. Once communism fell, the Greco Catholic faith could again be practiced, but they no longer owned any churches. Although a few of the former Catholic churches have been returned by the Orthodox Church, for the most part the Greco Catholics have had to build new churches. During the years of communism some of our relatives became Orthodox, others remained (secretly) Greco-Catholic.
We took tons of photos, candid and posed, in the churchyard, then my father hosted a 5 (or 6? I lost count) course meal (arranged by a cousin) - an enormous amount of food, including two complete main course plates - with a group of 25 back at the Palace restaurant. More photos were shared. We also passed around a tape player and asked each of my father’s first cousins to record some old stories. At some point we will need to get this tape translated!
This restaurant accepted only cash. We didn’t have enough Romanian cash because of the ATM problem, but they did take American dollars. Whew! We had each brought a fair amount of dollars, because we were told that the guide preferred that payment.
<i><u>A Word about Money</u>
We found that few places in Romania outside of Bucharest accepted credit cards, so cash was a necessity. Even in small towns, American $ and Euros were commonly accepted. ATMs were available in all of the major towns. The only problem we had was in Fagaras, and I’m sure that was a fluke.
Romania has recently changed its currency. The ‘new’ money is 10,000 times smaller than the ‘old’ money. Some prices were in the old, other places quoted the new. We received both from ATMs and shops. I didn’t have too much trouble with it. If the price or the bill had a lot of 0’s I just mentally took off 4 of them. The exchange rate was 2.87, and I usually estimated by dividing the price by 3 (and adding a bit) to get dollars. Of course, my father’s chart was a lot more accurate. </i>
In the late afternoon we all piled into cars and drove to the village of <b><u><i>Dridif</i></u></b>, the second village west of Făgăraş. This was the home of our ancestor, my father’s grandfather, who was a Greco-Catholic priest in the little church there. For the past 60 years in this little village the two little churches, facing each other across the street have been both owned by the Orthodox Church, which uses the former Catholic Church as its winter worship space because it is smaller and less expensive to heat.
Lots of villagers were out sitting on benches enjoying their Sunday afternoon when we all arrived and began piling out of our cars. I think some of them remembered a similar scene five years ago when my father and brother (and relatives) last came. We milled around inside the church, smelling the damp and neglect (with potatoes stored in the vestibule and piles of sawdust on the pews where the insects have left their mark). Only the males were allowed to pass behind the iconostasis, and nobody but the priest could stand in line with the altar. We all lit candles on the graves of our common ancestors, my great grandfather and great grandmother.
We were also able to tour the Orthodox church across the street. It was very beautiful, with every surface covered with paintings.
<i><u>A Word about Family</u>
I couldn’t imagine how I would react to meeting the relatives, those people whose names I’d heard and pictures I’d seen. I supposed that I would be confused and overwhelmed – so many people, so many names, so little English! They ended up captivating me with their affection, their enthusiasm, their willingness to share, and their pleasure in seeing us. We have enjoyed each others’ pictures. And stories. I see their blue eyes (like my own) – a family trait. We share a history. Although I did not have a solitary moment for reflection in my great-grandfather’s church, I could feel him alive in the company of his descendants, as they all paid him homage at his grave. After we all left the churchyard, our candles remained, still burning on his tombstone. I cried when I saw it then, and I cry when I recall it now.</i>
It was hard to say “Goodbye” to many of our relatives, who were driving back home after the visit to the village. I love those double kisses especially when combined with a heartfelt hug. We were given lots of instructions on which relative we were to call when we reached which town in the upcoming week.
Back in Făgăraş, two of our relatives, Rodica and her adult son, Grig, insist that we visit them in their apartment. We walked in to the smell of food cooking and the sight of a table set with stacks of dishes. In Romanian homes, you can tell how much food you will be served by the number of plates stacked up in front of you. Each course is on a separate plate, and it is removed for the next course. Uh oh. We were still totally stuffed from the earlier meal. No amount of explanation would dissuade Rodica from serving us, but neither she nor Grig ate anything. When we asked them, they said that they were full. Yes, we know the feeling! We were served fish, chicken, pasta, salad, and homemade ice cream. My cousin doesn’t speak a word of English, and her son, who does, didn’t translate very much. It was kind of comical – she talked nonstop the entire time we were there, apparently oblivious to the fact that it wasn’t being translated. We looked at a lot more family photos.
We returned to the Hotel Montana where we bundled up for another chilly night. I stayed up late trying to process my experience of Romania so far. In the past two days, I’d gotten a taste of city, country, town, village. So many impressions, so many visual images, so many political, historical, religious, and economic discussions. And family stories. So many things I’d heard and read before I came, and yet nothing prepared me for the experience of this country and of my heritage here.
Photo link:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbqg
As an aside before the next installment:
I must apologize for the violence I’m doing to the Romanian language through my inconsistent and absent accent marks on Romanian words and place names. I began by trying to include them, but it takes so long to manually insert them that I’ve sort of dispensed with them.
<b><u>Sunday, September 24: Făgăraş and the ancestral village</u></b>
Mark woke up early and walked to the train station to look for a newspaper. There were none to be found. A relative joked that there are no Sunday papers because Romanians sleep late on Sundays. We had breakfast at the hotel (a separate charge). The food was OK, some cheese, some ham, some vegetables and bread. There was a really delicious breakfast cake (like a stollen), but I think that one of the relatives brought it.
After breakfast we went downtown to find an ATM. There were several in the downtown area, but none of them were working. We could see groups of people walking around the downtown, from ATM to ATM. We tried about three, to no avail. Dad even put his credit card into one ATM to obtain a cash advance. That led to problems a day or two later; the credit card company noticed an unsuccessful attempted use at an ATM and cancelled his card.
We spent the majority of the day with relatives. First we attended services at the Greco Catholic church in Fagaras. The church is new, having been built in the past 6 years. Dad donated the bells for this church, and it was very moving to hear them peal forth before, during and after the service. A little background: when the communists came to power, they prohibited the Greco-Catholic faith, confiscated all of the churches, and gave them to the Orthodox Church. Once communism fell, the Greco Catholic faith could again be practiced, but they no longer owned any churches. Although a few of the former Catholic churches have been returned by the Orthodox Church, for the most part the Greco Catholics have had to build new churches. During the years of communism some of our relatives became Orthodox, others remained (secretly) Greco-Catholic.
We took tons of photos, candid and posed, in the churchyard, then my father hosted a 5 (or 6? I lost count) course meal (arranged by a cousin) - an enormous amount of food, including two complete main course plates - with a group of 25 back at the Palace restaurant. More photos were shared. We also passed around a tape player and asked each of my father’s first cousins to record some old stories. At some point we will need to get this tape translated!
This restaurant accepted only cash. We didn’t have enough Romanian cash because of the ATM problem, but they did take American dollars. Whew! We had each brought a fair amount of dollars, because we were told that the guide preferred that payment.
<i><u>A Word about Money</u>
We found that few places in Romania outside of Bucharest accepted credit cards, so cash was a necessity. Even in small towns, American $ and Euros were commonly accepted. ATMs were available in all of the major towns. The only problem we had was in Fagaras, and I’m sure that was a fluke.
Romania has recently changed its currency. The ‘new’ money is 10,000 times smaller than the ‘old’ money. Some prices were in the old, other places quoted the new. We received both from ATMs and shops. I didn’t have too much trouble with it. If the price or the bill had a lot of 0’s I just mentally took off 4 of them. The exchange rate was 2.87, and I usually estimated by dividing the price by 3 (and adding a bit) to get dollars. Of course, my father’s chart was a lot more accurate. </i>
In the late afternoon we all piled into cars and drove to the village of <b><u><i>Dridif</i></u></b>, the second village west of Făgăraş. This was the home of our ancestor, my father’s grandfather, who was a Greco-Catholic priest in the little church there. For the past 60 years in this little village the two little churches, facing each other across the street have been both owned by the Orthodox Church, which uses the former Catholic Church as its winter worship space because it is smaller and less expensive to heat.
Lots of villagers were out sitting on benches enjoying their Sunday afternoon when we all arrived and began piling out of our cars. I think some of them remembered a similar scene five years ago when my father and brother (and relatives) last came. We milled around inside the church, smelling the damp and neglect (with potatoes stored in the vestibule and piles of sawdust on the pews where the insects have left their mark). Only the males were allowed to pass behind the iconostasis, and nobody but the priest could stand in line with the altar. We all lit candles on the graves of our common ancestors, my great grandfather and great grandmother.
We were also able to tour the Orthodox church across the street. It was very beautiful, with every surface covered with paintings.
<i><u>A Word about Family</u>
I couldn’t imagine how I would react to meeting the relatives, those people whose names I’d heard and pictures I’d seen. I supposed that I would be confused and overwhelmed – so many people, so many names, so little English! They ended up captivating me with their affection, their enthusiasm, their willingness to share, and their pleasure in seeing us. We have enjoyed each others’ pictures. And stories. I see their blue eyes (like my own) – a family trait. We share a history. Although I did not have a solitary moment for reflection in my great-grandfather’s church, I could feel him alive in the company of his descendants, as they all paid him homage at his grave. After we all left the churchyard, our candles remained, still burning on his tombstone. I cried when I saw it then, and I cry when I recall it now.</i>
It was hard to say “Goodbye” to many of our relatives, who were driving back home after the visit to the village. I love those double kisses especially when combined with a heartfelt hug. We were given lots of instructions on which relative we were to call when we reached which town in the upcoming week.
Back in Făgăraş, two of our relatives, Rodica and her adult son, Grig, insist that we visit them in their apartment. We walked in to the smell of food cooking and the sight of a table set with stacks of dishes. In Romanian homes, you can tell how much food you will be served by the number of plates stacked up in front of you. Each course is on a separate plate, and it is removed for the next course. Uh oh. We were still totally stuffed from the earlier meal. No amount of explanation would dissuade Rodica from serving us, but neither she nor Grig ate anything. When we asked them, they said that they were full. Yes, we know the feeling! We were served fish, chicken, pasta, salad, and homemade ice cream. My cousin doesn’t speak a word of English, and her son, who does, didn’t translate very much. It was kind of comical – she talked nonstop the entire time we were there, apparently oblivious to the fact that it wasn’t being translated. We looked at a lot more family photos.
We returned to the Hotel Montana where we bundled up for another chilly night. I stayed up late trying to process my experience of Romania so far. In the past two days, I’d gotten a taste of city, country, town, village. So many impressions, so many visual images, so many political, historical, religious, and economic discussions. And family stories. So many things I’d heard and read before I came, and yet nothing prepared me for the experience of this country and of my heritage here.
Photo link:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbqg
Oct 2nd, 2007, 12:17 AM
#31
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Nancy, I loved your report! I am born in Romania, lived there until I was 38, and from then I return there yearly to visit my mother, sister and friends. It is always interesting for me to know how other people see Romania and the Rumanians.
But your report is something special for me, I was very impressed by your will to make a pleasure to your father. I am sorry for his death, and if you can find consolation in something, this , this should be the fact that he could enjoy a so nice trip in this natal country, and the feeling that his children love him so much and wants him to enjoy.
But your report is something special for me, I was very impressed by your will to make a pleasure to your father. I am sorry for his death, and if you can find consolation in something, this , this should be the fact that he could enjoy a so nice trip in this natal country, and the feeling that his children love him so much and wants him to enjoy.
Oct 2nd, 2007, 05:32 AM
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The post for this next day is very long so I am going to break it into 3 posts. I can assure you that the remaining days have <u>much</u> shorter entries!
<b><u>Monday, September 25: Făgăraş to Sighisoara via Saxon villages</u></b>
We woke to bright sunshine and a view of the Făgăraş mountains over the neighboring gas station. We were to meet our guide at 9:30, so we repacked our suitcases, and separated out a snack bag, a bag to have on the seat (camera case, film, map, printed material appropriate to each day’s sights, water bottle, journal), and a book/literature bag. We also had a souvenir bag, that contained all the gifts from relatives – we hadn’t bought anything ourselves yet!
At checkout we were relieved to find out that the hotel, cash only, would accept US $$. We hoped that our guide would be amenable to being paid in Romanian money since we had used so many of our $ for the banquet the previous day and this hotel bill. One of the day’s tasks would be to find some cash.
Daniel, our guide/driver, arrived and was immediately surrounded by our relatives, all talking to him in Romanian. They were making sure that he understood who we were supposed to call when we got to each town (they’d already made this quite clear to us!) Good thing that he was easy-going. The car was a little smaller in the trunk than we expected; luckily we had small suitcases!
The first thing we did was to follow one car of relatives to <b><u><i>Rausor</i></u></b>, a village southeast of Făgăraş. In the churchyard of the former Greco-Catholic church there, we visited the graves of my father’s uncle and five of his cousins. Pictures were taken, candles lit. Mark and I climbed the church tower, and were rewarded with a lovely view of the countryside. Kisses and hugs as these relatives left for their drive to Arad.
We drove back through <b><u><i>Făgăraş</i></u></b>, stopping at the medieval fortress there, which Mark and Dad had spent a good bit of time visiting in 2001. This was a brief photo op, mostly for my benefit. From what I saw, the fortress is a cool place. When we left Făgăraş, heading west, we saw lines of people along the roadside, hitchhiking. Daniel explained that in Romania hitchhikers expect to pay the people who give them rides.
Since we would be driving right through Dridif, we decided to stop for another quick visit. Daniel missed the turn onto the little road on the left that leads into the town, so he drove on a bit to a place where he could turn around. This happened to be a dirt road in a potato field. There were people picking potatoes, a horse and cart, and a tractor. Of course we had to stop. I motioned to the people that we were going to take pictures, and one of the men did a happy little jig. I totally missed getting that on a video clip.
With Daniel’s help, we talked with them, telling them that Dad’s father left this village 100 years ago. Boy, were they excited. The man exclaimed in English, “I love you!” In Romanian he added, “You made my day” and “I’m happier to see you than to see my own brother.” Maybe he didn’t get along with his brother! They pressed a bag of potatoes on us. We joked with our driver that he probably had never had tourists who acquired potatoes.
We completed our detour in <b><u><i>Dridif</i></u></b> – taking pictures of the house that was built with the money that my grandfather sent from America. This house was sold and then later seized by the communists. I also took my first picture of a “vulcanizare” sign! And pictures of the little roadside crucifix shrine. We saw shrines with crucifixes everywhere in Romania. They were all approximately the same dimensions, nearly life-sized, and topped with a little roof. Every churchyard has one of these, there is almost always one in the village square, and we saw them often along the roadside. Many times the crucifix would be draped with colorful woven fabric or adorned with flowers. I never tired of seeing these shrines.
Pictures from the morning so far:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbrk
<b><u>Monday, September 25: Făgăraş to Sighisoara via Saxon villages</u></b>
We woke to bright sunshine and a view of the Făgăraş mountains over the neighboring gas station. We were to meet our guide at 9:30, so we repacked our suitcases, and separated out a snack bag, a bag to have on the seat (camera case, film, map, printed material appropriate to each day’s sights, water bottle, journal), and a book/literature bag. We also had a souvenir bag, that contained all the gifts from relatives – we hadn’t bought anything ourselves yet!
At checkout we were relieved to find out that the hotel, cash only, would accept US $$. We hoped that our guide would be amenable to being paid in Romanian money since we had used so many of our $ for the banquet the previous day and this hotel bill. One of the day’s tasks would be to find some cash.
Daniel, our guide/driver, arrived and was immediately surrounded by our relatives, all talking to him in Romanian. They were making sure that he understood who we were supposed to call when we got to each town (they’d already made this quite clear to us!) Good thing that he was easy-going. The car was a little smaller in the trunk than we expected; luckily we had small suitcases!
The first thing we did was to follow one car of relatives to <b><u><i>Rausor</i></u></b>, a village southeast of Făgăraş. In the churchyard of the former Greco-Catholic church there, we visited the graves of my father’s uncle and five of his cousins. Pictures were taken, candles lit. Mark and I climbed the church tower, and were rewarded with a lovely view of the countryside. Kisses and hugs as these relatives left for their drive to Arad.
We drove back through <b><u><i>Făgăraş</i></u></b>, stopping at the medieval fortress there, which Mark and Dad had spent a good bit of time visiting in 2001. This was a brief photo op, mostly for my benefit. From what I saw, the fortress is a cool place. When we left Făgăraş, heading west, we saw lines of people along the roadside, hitchhiking. Daniel explained that in Romania hitchhikers expect to pay the people who give them rides.
Since we would be driving right through Dridif, we decided to stop for another quick visit. Daniel missed the turn onto the little road on the left that leads into the town, so he drove on a bit to a place where he could turn around. This happened to be a dirt road in a potato field. There were people picking potatoes, a horse and cart, and a tractor. Of course we had to stop. I motioned to the people that we were going to take pictures, and one of the men did a happy little jig. I totally missed getting that on a video clip.
With Daniel’s help, we talked with them, telling them that Dad’s father left this village 100 years ago. Boy, were they excited. The man exclaimed in English, “I love you!” In Romanian he added, “You made my day” and “I’m happier to see you than to see my own brother.” Maybe he didn’t get along with his brother! They pressed a bag of potatoes on us. We joked with our driver that he probably had never had tourists who acquired potatoes.
We completed our detour in <b><u><i>Dridif</i></u></b> – taking pictures of the house that was built with the money that my grandfather sent from America. This house was sold and then later seized by the communists. I also took my first picture of a “vulcanizare” sign! And pictures of the little roadside crucifix shrine. We saw shrines with crucifixes everywhere in Romania. They were all approximately the same dimensions, nearly life-sized, and topped with a little roof. Every churchyard has one of these, there is almost always one in the village square, and we saw them often along the roadside. Many times the crucifix would be draped with colorful woven fabric or adorned with flowers. I never tired of seeing these shrines.
Pictures from the morning so far:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbrk
Oct 2nd, 2007, 05:58 AM
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<b><u>Background: Transylvania and the Saxon Fortified Churches</u></b>
After taking leave of our relatives, we were ready to begin 6 days of sightseeing in Transylvania. Most people associate the region with the (mostly fictional) accounts of Count Dracula (historically Vlad the Impaler), but the history of the region is rich and layered, going back to the early Dacian peoples and subsequent Roman rule. In fact, the Romanian language is one of the 5 modern Romance languages based on Latin. Later, much of the area was ruled by Hungary for centuries. Some of Transylvania was under control of the Ottoman Empire for a period. The Hapsburgs ruled here also. Reflecting this multi-ethnic background, all of the towns in Transylvania have three names, Romanian, German, and Hungarian, which can be seen on road maps.
Southern Transylvania was heavily influenced by the German settlers who began arriving in the 12th century, at the invitation of the Hungarian King Geza, in an effort to solidify his grip over Transylvania and stabilize his eastern frontier. These Germans, mostly from the Cologne region, are generally referred to as “Saxons.” In addition to hundreds of villages, the Saxons established 7 main fortress towns, and the region was subsequently known as “Siebenburgen.” These are modern day Sibiu, Brasov, Sighisoara, Bistrita, Cluj-Napoca, Medias, and Sebes. (On this trip, we visited all but Medias and Sebes. The ones with the best-preserved medieval centers are Sibiu, Brasov, and Sighisoara.)
Faced with threats of invasion from the Tatars in the 13th century and then by the Turks in the 15th and 16th centuries, the Saxons built fortifications in their villages. They typically constructed rows of walls and defensive towers around their churches, which were often situated on the highest ground of the village. The churches themselves were equipped with strong towers. These were truly fortresses for the people (not the nobles) and in many cases the walls provided rooms for villagers to store provisions or temporarily live.
These villages retained their German language and culture for eight centuries. When the Romanian revolution overthrew communism in 1989, 95% of the ethnic Saxons emigrated to Germany (“returning home” after 800 years!). Today the churches are mostly abandoned, and many are slowly falling to ruin. There are some efforts to preserve them; notably, a foundation supported by Prince Charles has been quite involved in trying to save not only the churches but the villages and their way of life.
<i><u><b>Saxon fortified church research/resources</b></u>
We learned of the Saxon fortified churches in a guidebook and were immediately fascinated by them. (Several Fodorites, including Clifton, Michael, and Faux also mentioned these in their trip reports) We did internet research and even borrowed an obscure book on the topic through interlibrary loan.
There are some fantastic pictures of the churches in the galleries of the “Photo Raid” from 2004, where a group spent 8 days photographically documenting the churches:
http://photoraid.dordeduca.ro/photo/
Another site with extensive photo galleries of the Saxon churches:
http://www.saxontransylvania.com/
Information about the Prince of Wales’ efforts:
http://www.mihaieminescutrust.org/co...dard.asp?n=117
When visiting the Saxon churches the “key” is finding the person with the key. In smaller villages visitors are quite noticeable and you might attract the attention of the keyholder. We thought it an advantage to have a guide who spoke Romanian, as he was able to negotiate our access to the churches.
Our last day in Transylvania, we came across some very nice Saxon church resources. They were sold at the entrance table at either Harman or Prejmer. Here are the details:
1. A German “Atlas der Siebenburgish-Sachstschen Kirchenburgen un Dorfkirchen.” This has a detailed map of Saxon Transylvania, showing topography, roads, and what type of church is in each village. On the back, there are diagrams and descriptions of 21 of the fortified churches, showing their original configuration (in many cases, there were originally two walls and/or a moat protecting these churches).
2. A map, available in English, titled “Two Tourist Routes for visiting the Saxon fortified churches in the Brasov-Rupea region.” The map scale is 1:140,000, and has little drawings of the original appearance of the churches. On the back are descriptions and present day photos of 30 of the churches. The best part is that contact addresses and phone numbers for each church are given. Information on the front says: “This map has been prepared for the meeting 2005 of the World Monuments Fund in Hermannstadt/Sibiu by Dr. Hermann Fabini, on request and financing of Beatix and Christian Habermann Siebenburghisch-Saxhsische Stiftung.”
3. A similar map, available in English, titled “Three Tourist routes for visiting the Saxon fortified churches in the Sibiu-Sighisoara region,” scale also 1:140,000, with the little drawings of the original church plan. The reverse has 23 descriptions/photos with contact information. The front says: “Map released with support from the U.S. Embassy in Bucharest.”
Finally, we met two German fellows who were working on a book about the Saxon Fortified churches. That book has been published, and I have a copy on order from the German Amazon site, so I’ll be excited to receive it. I think, but am not sure, that some of it will be in English.</i>
After taking leave of our relatives, we were ready to begin 6 days of sightseeing in Transylvania. Most people associate the region with the (mostly fictional) accounts of Count Dracula (historically Vlad the Impaler), but the history of the region is rich and layered, going back to the early Dacian peoples and subsequent Roman rule. In fact, the Romanian language is one of the 5 modern Romance languages based on Latin. Later, much of the area was ruled by Hungary for centuries. Some of Transylvania was under control of the Ottoman Empire for a period. The Hapsburgs ruled here also. Reflecting this multi-ethnic background, all of the towns in Transylvania have three names, Romanian, German, and Hungarian, which can be seen on road maps.
Southern Transylvania was heavily influenced by the German settlers who began arriving in the 12th century, at the invitation of the Hungarian King Geza, in an effort to solidify his grip over Transylvania and stabilize his eastern frontier. These Germans, mostly from the Cologne region, are generally referred to as “Saxons.” In addition to hundreds of villages, the Saxons established 7 main fortress towns, and the region was subsequently known as “Siebenburgen.” These are modern day Sibiu, Brasov, Sighisoara, Bistrita, Cluj-Napoca, Medias, and Sebes. (On this trip, we visited all but Medias and Sebes. The ones with the best-preserved medieval centers are Sibiu, Brasov, and Sighisoara.)
Faced with threats of invasion from the Tatars in the 13th century and then by the Turks in the 15th and 16th centuries, the Saxons built fortifications in their villages. They typically constructed rows of walls and defensive towers around their churches, which were often situated on the highest ground of the village. The churches themselves were equipped with strong towers. These were truly fortresses for the people (not the nobles) and in many cases the walls provided rooms for villagers to store provisions or temporarily live.
These villages retained their German language and culture for eight centuries. When the Romanian revolution overthrew communism in 1989, 95% of the ethnic Saxons emigrated to Germany (“returning home” after 800 years!). Today the churches are mostly abandoned, and many are slowly falling to ruin. There are some efforts to preserve them; notably, a foundation supported by Prince Charles has been quite involved in trying to save not only the churches but the villages and their way of life.
<i><u><b>Saxon fortified church research/resources</b></u>
We learned of the Saxon fortified churches in a guidebook and were immediately fascinated by them. (Several Fodorites, including Clifton, Michael, and Faux also mentioned these in their trip reports) We did internet research and even borrowed an obscure book on the topic through interlibrary loan.
There are some fantastic pictures of the churches in the galleries of the “Photo Raid” from 2004, where a group spent 8 days photographically documenting the churches:
http://photoraid.dordeduca.ro/photo/
Another site with extensive photo galleries of the Saxon churches:
http://www.saxontransylvania.com/
Information about the Prince of Wales’ efforts:
http://www.mihaieminescutrust.org/co...dard.asp?n=117
When visiting the Saxon churches the “key” is finding the person with the key. In smaller villages visitors are quite noticeable and you might attract the attention of the keyholder. We thought it an advantage to have a guide who spoke Romanian, as he was able to negotiate our access to the churches.
Our last day in Transylvania, we came across some very nice Saxon church resources. They were sold at the entrance table at either Harman or Prejmer. Here are the details:
1. A German “Atlas der Siebenburgish-Sachstschen Kirchenburgen un Dorfkirchen.” This has a detailed map of Saxon Transylvania, showing topography, roads, and what type of church is in each village. On the back, there are diagrams and descriptions of 21 of the fortified churches, showing their original configuration (in many cases, there were originally two walls and/or a moat protecting these churches).
2. A map, available in English, titled “Two Tourist Routes for visiting the Saxon fortified churches in the Brasov-Rupea region.” The map scale is 1:140,000, and has little drawings of the original appearance of the churches. On the back are descriptions and present day photos of 30 of the churches. The best part is that contact addresses and phone numbers for each church are given. Information on the front says: “This map has been prepared for the meeting 2005 of the World Monuments Fund in Hermannstadt/Sibiu by Dr. Hermann Fabini, on request and financing of Beatix and Christian Habermann Siebenburghisch-Saxhsische Stiftung.”
3. A similar map, available in English, titled “Three Tourist routes for visiting the Saxon fortified churches in the Sibiu-Sighisoara region,” scale also 1:140,000, with the little drawings of the original church plan. The reverse has 23 descriptions/photos with contact information. The front says: “Map released with support from the U.S. Embassy in Bucharest.”
Finally, we met two German fellows who were working on a book about the Saxon Fortified churches. That book has been published, and I have a copy on order from the German Amazon site, so I’ll be excited to receive it. I think, but am not sure, that some of it will be in English.</i>
Oct 2nd, 2007, 06:31 AM
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So, now we were ready to start our touring of the Saxon fortified churches. We had done a lot of investigation of these churches, and decided to give this full day to visiting as many of these villages as we could (and hoped that we would be able to see a couple more later in the week). We had devised a proposed route that would maximize our ability to see as many interesting ones as possible. We had no idea if it was realistic, however, because we didn’t know if the tiny roads we saw on our map would be passable with the car. It was hard to gauge how long it would take us, since that would depend on how many of the churches we would be lucky enough to go inside.
We showed our little plan to Daniel. He thought that our proposed route was fine and told us that the little road that connected the villages is paved and is a good road. He agreed that we could just see what we could fit into the day, stopping as we wished and modifying the route as necessary. I will detail each stop that we made, in case anyone reading this happens to be as interested in these churches as we were.
Venturing west from Dridif we turned right (north) at the next village onto a good local road. A few kilometers later we were at the village of <b><u><i>Cincsor</i></u></b>. The church was on level ground, right in the center of town, surrounded by a wall with short square towers. The church steeple is a slimmer tower and has clock faces on all sides. The towers, the wall, and the church itself were plastered white and had red tile roofs. The church was not open, so we just walked around it.
The village was pretty quiet. Chickens ran around under the trees and we saw some horse carts and a woman pulling a hand cart, who was happy to pose for a picture. As is typical for the Saxon villages, the houses had lovely ornamental plaster work and hipped tile roofs.
A few kilometers later we came to the larger village of <b><i><u>Cincu</u></i></b>. The church is set among evergreen and hardwood trees up on a hill. Daniel made inquiries and located the man with the key – at the other end of the village. We gave him a ride with us up to the church. Along the way, we passed a large group of Romani people in the center of town. There is an iron gate around the church – much later in date – with these crazy angel statues all along the top (most of the original fortified wall is gone). Going through the gate, we followed a rock path through leafy trees. It was cool and peaceful in the churchyard.
The church entrance is obviously a later date than the church itself: yellow plaster with classical pilasters and a pediment. We paid a small admission charge to enter the church. The interior of this church is amazing. The main aisle forms a “Y” shape at the back, as it goes around both sides of a pillar that supports the tower. The aisle slopes downward as it goes along the nave. The apse, much narrower than the nave, has a lovely painted altarpiece. This church still has services, every second week, for its couple dozen remaining Saxon families. Small rugs and cushions hold their places in the front few pews.
The loft is vaulted with rounded arches. We went through a little door, and were in the tower, which is tall and crowned with a slimmer spire than most of the Saxon churches. The steeple has the four little corner spires, which Daniel told us signifies that in the middle ages this town had the right to impose the death penalty. We were able to climb as high as the bells, and had a great view out the small tower windows.
Our next stop after Cincu was supposed to be Merghindeal. We drove through rolling hills and green fields. Along the side of the road we saw big black mounds with smoke pouring from them. Dad guessed correctly: they were making charcoal.
We passed more fields filled with cows. Then we saw a big flock of sheep and a shepherd with them. With his shepherd stick. Of course, we had to stop to talk. Mark wanted to know if he happened to have any wool/yarn for sale. We were in luck! The shepherd and his wife had half a kilo of yarn from the Turcana sheep, which we bought. Mark and I decide split this yarn. Between our two families, we have 5 knitters. The farm is so pretty – it turns out that all the land that we can see is owned by an Italian man, and this shepherd and his wife are managing the farm for him. The yarn joined the potatoes in the trunk.
At about this point, Daniel realized that he had taken the wrong road out of Cincu. We were heading west, not north. So we turned around and retraced our tracks to pick up the correct road. None of us minded, as we never would have seen the charcoal making or met the shepherd and bought the wool. Also, on the drive back through Cincu, Mark was amazed to see the speed bump in the middle of the street – it’s made from a big log.
We soon reached <b><i><u>Merghindeal</u></i></b>. The church (dating from1280) has two towers, which is pretty unusual, especially since these are nearly of equal size. One of the towers has a wooden gallery with clock faces. Cornstalks grow right up to the wall that surrounds the church. A barbed wire fence prevented us from walking all the way around. We did not get inside this church.
We followed a horse cart part of the short distance to <b><i><u>Dealu Fromos</u></i></b> (means “beautiful village,” I think.) The town has a very impressive plaster building that Mark remembered seeing a pictured in one of our guidebooks. One house had a stork nest in its chimney. First order of business in this town was finding a public restroom which turned out to be a “Turkish” outhouse behind the town bar. That was fun.
While we were occupied, Daniel located the fellow with the key. The wall has a pretty little plaster swag over the entrance, and the dates “1522-1835.” Stepping through the gate, we entered a beautiful garden oasis. The key guy explained that the fortifying walls are owned by an architectural college, but the church building is owned by the lone remaining Saxon villager. Because of this, we were able to walk all around within the walls and up the little wall tower, but did not have access to the church itself. This church is another one that has two towers, both half timbered; the taller one has clock faces.
We hopped back in the car for more driving through the glorious Romanian countryside. I want to quote from Clifton’s trip report, as we saw what he did at roughly the same time of year:
<i>“The roadway . . . is surrounded by meadows and forested hills. And haystacks. It was harvest time and everywhere you looked throughout Romania, people are working by hand, horse and plow in the fields. Tall, old fashioned haystacks and corn stalk stacks abound throughout the countryside, each stacked around a make shift pole and braced by carefully placed branches. They dot the horizon everywhere. Horse carts are piled high with hay; corn stalks; women in head scarves and galoshes; men in hats, kids in Adidas. Workers along the roads carry wooden rakes and scythes. There are tractors here and there, more the exception than the rule. In many towns, you see a Polizia sign in the middle of town and sure enough, standing on the side of the road, next to the sign, is a uniformed officer. To top it off these drives, the autumn colors were still in much of their glory throughout the country, with only a few bare species. Yellows and oranges covered the hills and mixed with the evergreens, with only the reds past their prime.”</i>
Clifton’s entire report can be read at: http://www.fodors.com/forums/threads...p;tid=34543931
We went to Romania the last part of September, and the leaves were just beginning to turn. The weather was great. We had some warm, but not sweltering, days, and some cool (but not freezing) ones. We did have some chilly nights in a few of the hotels, as it was apparently too early for the heat to be turned on.
Photo link of this part of the day:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbt8
We showed our little plan to Daniel. He thought that our proposed route was fine and told us that the little road that connected the villages is paved and is a good road. He agreed that we could just see what we could fit into the day, stopping as we wished and modifying the route as necessary. I will detail each stop that we made, in case anyone reading this happens to be as interested in these churches as we were.
Venturing west from Dridif we turned right (north) at the next village onto a good local road. A few kilometers later we were at the village of <b><u><i>Cincsor</i></u></b>. The church was on level ground, right in the center of town, surrounded by a wall with short square towers. The church steeple is a slimmer tower and has clock faces on all sides. The towers, the wall, and the church itself were plastered white and had red tile roofs. The church was not open, so we just walked around it.
The village was pretty quiet. Chickens ran around under the trees and we saw some horse carts and a woman pulling a hand cart, who was happy to pose for a picture. As is typical for the Saxon villages, the houses had lovely ornamental plaster work and hipped tile roofs.
A few kilometers later we came to the larger village of <b><i><u>Cincu</u></i></b>. The church is set among evergreen and hardwood trees up on a hill. Daniel made inquiries and located the man with the key – at the other end of the village. We gave him a ride with us up to the church. Along the way, we passed a large group of Romani people in the center of town. There is an iron gate around the church – much later in date – with these crazy angel statues all along the top (most of the original fortified wall is gone). Going through the gate, we followed a rock path through leafy trees. It was cool and peaceful in the churchyard.
The church entrance is obviously a later date than the church itself: yellow plaster with classical pilasters and a pediment. We paid a small admission charge to enter the church. The interior of this church is amazing. The main aisle forms a “Y” shape at the back, as it goes around both sides of a pillar that supports the tower. The aisle slopes downward as it goes along the nave. The apse, much narrower than the nave, has a lovely painted altarpiece. This church still has services, every second week, for its couple dozen remaining Saxon families. Small rugs and cushions hold their places in the front few pews.
The loft is vaulted with rounded arches. We went through a little door, and were in the tower, which is tall and crowned with a slimmer spire than most of the Saxon churches. The steeple has the four little corner spires, which Daniel told us signifies that in the middle ages this town had the right to impose the death penalty. We were able to climb as high as the bells, and had a great view out the small tower windows.
Our next stop after Cincu was supposed to be Merghindeal. We drove through rolling hills and green fields. Along the side of the road we saw big black mounds with smoke pouring from them. Dad guessed correctly: they were making charcoal.
We passed more fields filled with cows. Then we saw a big flock of sheep and a shepherd with them. With his shepherd stick. Of course, we had to stop to talk. Mark wanted to know if he happened to have any wool/yarn for sale. We were in luck! The shepherd and his wife had half a kilo of yarn from the Turcana sheep, which we bought. Mark and I decide split this yarn. Between our two families, we have 5 knitters. The farm is so pretty – it turns out that all the land that we can see is owned by an Italian man, and this shepherd and his wife are managing the farm for him. The yarn joined the potatoes in the trunk.
At about this point, Daniel realized that he had taken the wrong road out of Cincu. We were heading west, not north. So we turned around and retraced our tracks to pick up the correct road. None of us minded, as we never would have seen the charcoal making or met the shepherd and bought the wool. Also, on the drive back through Cincu, Mark was amazed to see the speed bump in the middle of the street – it’s made from a big log.
We soon reached <b><i><u>Merghindeal</u></i></b>. The church (dating from1280) has two towers, which is pretty unusual, especially since these are nearly of equal size. One of the towers has a wooden gallery with clock faces. Cornstalks grow right up to the wall that surrounds the church. A barbed wire fence prevented us from walking all the way around. We did not get inside this church.
We followed a horse cart part of the short distance to <b><i><u>Dealu Fromos</u></i></b> (means “beautiful village,” I think.) The town has a very impressive plaster building that Mark remembered seeing a pictured in one of our guidebooks. One house had a stork nest in its chimney. First order of business in this town was finding a public restroom which turned out to be a “Turkish” outhouse behind the town bar. That was fun.
While we were occupied, Daniel located the fellow with the key. The wall has a pretty little plaster swag over the entrance, and the dates “1522-1835.” Stepping through the gate, we entered a beautiful garden oasis. The key guy explained that the fortifying walls are owned by an architectural college, but the church building is owned by the lone remaining Saxon villager. Because of this, we were able to walk all around within the walls and up the little wall tower, but did not have access to the church itself. This church is another one that has two towers, both half timbered; the taller one has clock faces.
We hopped back in the car for more driving through the glorious Romanian countryside. I want to quote from Clifton’s trip report, as we saw what he did at roughly the same time of year:
<i>“The roadway . . . is surrounded by meadows and forested hills. And haystacks. It was harvest time and everywhere you looked throughout Romania, people are working by hand, horse and plow in the fields. Tall, old fashioned haystacks and corn stalk stacks abound throughout the countryside, each stacked around a make shift pole and braced by carefully placed branches. They dot the horizon everywhere. Horse carts are piled high with hay; corn stalks; women in head scarves and galoshes; men in hats, kids in Adidas. Workers along the roads carry wooden rakes and scythes. There are tractors here and there, more the exception than the rule. In many towns, you see a Polizia sign in the middle of town and sure enough, standing on the side of the road, next to the sign, is a uniformed officer. To top it off these drives, the autumn colors were still in much of their glory throughout the country, with only a few bare species. Yellows and oranges covered the hills and mixed with the evergreens, with only the reds past their prime.”</i>
Clifton’s entire report can be read at: http://www.fodors.com/forums/threads...p;tid=34543931
We went to Romania the last part of September, and the leaves were just beginning to turn. The weather was great. We had some warm, but not sweltering, days, and some cool (but not freezing) ones. We did have some chilly nights in a few of the hotels, as it was apparently too early for the heat to be turned on.
Photo link of this part of the day:
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbt8
Oct 2nd, 2007, 06:16 PM
#37
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Our next stop, <b><u><i>Agnita</i></u></b>, is a bigger village/town: around 11,000 people in the 2004 census. We parked and crossed a pedestrian bridge over a little river to reach the fortified complex, which was fairly extensive. Originally there were three defensive walls surrounding the church buildings, but these are now gone. Now there is a fence, and one end of the complex is now a school. We were not able to enter this church, although I think that it is sometimes open to visitors. Mark was excited to see this church, because it has tapered towers. Oh, the things that architects find fascinating! I walked around the entire fence, while Mark got to poke his head into the courtyard and snap some pictures.
Although it was getting late, we thought that we had enough time to swing by Alma Vii (but not enough to take the Valea Vilor to Mosna to Medias loop). Enroute we hopped out at Bârghis for a quick photo op at a non-fortified, non-Saxon church that had a grazing horse tied in the grass (I think there was a fortified church somewhere in this village, but we didn’t see it). There were some wonderfully picturesque plaster houses in this village, and a man and woman walking with some cows down the little road. We passed Pelisor, a Saxon church, but did not stop.
The church at <b><u><i>Alma Vii</i></u></b> is on a steep hill. The metal gate at the foot of the hill was unlocked, so up we went. Most of the stucco was worn off of the surrounding wall and the church, revealing the rough brickwork. In the 15th century the original Romanesque church was modified and fortified. The church itself has no tower (just a raised choir) but the wall has three or four towers, including a massive gate tower. The littlest tower had a stork’s nest. This is a very cool complex, in need of some major restoration.
As I walked back down the hill, I ran into three people - ethnic Saxons - who moved to Germany 16 years ago, after the revolution. They return to visit the village every year. They knew the guy with the key and offered to summon him, but we regretfully declined, as we really didn’t have time to go back up there. I was quite pleased with myself, as I had conducted the entire conversation with them in my broken German. Although it was disappointing to miss going into this church, I was a bit comforted when I later read that the church interior was extensively altered in the 19th century.
We pressed on and reached <b><u><i>Biertan</i></u></b> around 4:30 pm. This was the only stretch of bad/unpaved road that we saw the entire day. Biertan is one of the Saxon villages listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site, and it is the largest of the fortified churches. There are 3 defensive walls and 6 towers. The church was built around 1500, in late Gothic style. We had read that Biertan is closed on Mondays, but our guide had assured us that we did not need to worry, as he knew the family that operated Biertan. There was a young woman with a key who allowed us to enter.
We took the path up the hill, saving the covered staircase for when we left. We walked around, looking at the outbuildings and towers, including the “marriage prison.” Couples who were seeking a divorce would be locked in this place, where there was one bed, one spoon, etc. The story is that they learned to share and that nobody ended up getting the divorce. We also saw the Catholic tower, which Daniel said was set aside for the use of the remaining Catholics when the main church became Evangelical Lutheran during the Reformation. The church has a lot of interesting features, including inlaid linden wood choir stalls, ceiling paintings of straight and squiggly rays coming from the rib intersections, and a famous lock on the treasure room door that has 19 bolts.
From the fortress’ vantage point on the top of the hill, we could see the town below, surrounding terraced hills, and an extensive group of multicolored beehives.
Back down in town, we visited a lovely craft shop, where I bought a small painted glass icon, a painted wood icon, and a carved wooden spoon. Mark and I each bought some very detailed painted (hollowed out) eggshells. These were supposedly from the shopkeeper’s private collection. To protect them for travel, the eggs were wrapped individually and placed inside a cut open water bottle, which was then re-closed and taped. We were very excited to find such beautiful eggs, as they were on our shopping list.
With that, we were DONE sightseeing for the day. Whew! We drove north from Biertan until we reached the Medias/Sighisoara road (14). In fairly short order we arrived at <b><i><u>Sighisoara</u></i></b>, where we drove up to the top of town. Our hotel was the <i><u>Hotel Sighisoara</u></i>, one of three 3* hotels located in within the citadel (this is supposedly the only inhabited citadel in Europe). We had requested the Casa Wagner, but I think we ended up with the Hotel Sighisoara because of room availability. Apparently, this building was originally the town hall. There is no elevator, so we opted for rooms on the first floor (one flight up). The rooms are very nice. The shower in Dad’s bathroom has the highest sill we’ve ever seen. Luckily there was a grab bar.
Dad was worn out, and we decided to eat right at the hotel (forgoing the restaurant at the Casa Wagner which came highly recommended by Fodorites Stu, Clifton and Michael). After previewing the dining room and the pub room downstairs, we chose to eat on the outdoor terrace because we had the most amazing clear, warm weather all day. Dinner worked out well: our food was quite good, we liked the Ciuc beer we ordered, and we were comfortable in our fleece jackets.
After Dad went to bed, Mark and I wandered around the citadel, hitting up the ATM – successfully! We used the hotel computer behind the front desk. The fellow on duty was so helpful, and even gave up his chair so we could both sit. We were able to update our online journal. By now it was pretty late, and I desperately needed some sleep. At the same time, I was absolutely blown away at our amazing experiences in Romania. I had to jot down my impressions at the end of this very busy day:
We had researched the Saxon fortified churches, had seen a lot of pictures, and chose a route that we thought we could follow, including an optimistic loop that could be chopped if we ran short of time. We anticipated that there would be a few nice ones and others plain or undistinguished. I had read that the villages were nothing special; only the churches would be of interest. If I found one or two churches that were exceptional, I figured that I’d count that as a good day.
As it turned out, the day was beyond my wildest dreams. Every one of the churches we saw was great – some fantastic. We saw a lot. Not every single one on my list, but most. We were able to go inside more than we expected. And I couldn’t get enough of the villages. The pastel houses all lined up and connected by the high walls to the courtyards in between houses, their plaster details and weathered shutters. The women sitting on benches, the horse carts, the jaunty dogs. Our encounters with people - seeing them going about their lives – picking potatoes, making hay, burning charcoal, tending sheep, – was an added serendipity to the sights that we planned to see. All made especially attractive by the brilliant blue sky and bright sun. We were happily eating our way through our film and digital memory supply. I couldn’t imagine that we could equal this day.
Photo link for this part (67 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbv0
Photo link with just the highlights (28 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbwM
Although it was getting late, we thought that we had enough time to swing by Alma Vii (but not enough to take the Valea Vilor to Mosna to Medias loop). Enroute we hopped out at Bârghis for a quick photo op at a non-fortified, non-Saxon church that had a grazing horse tied in the grass (I think there was a fortified church somewhere in this village, but we didn’t see it). There were some wonderfully picturesque plaster houses in this village, and a man and woman walking with some cows down the little road. We passed Pelisor, a Saxon church, but did not stop.
The church at <b><u><i>Alma Vii</i></u></b> is on a steep hill. The metal gate at the foot of the hill was unlocked, so up we went. Most of the stucco was worn off of the surrounding wall and the church, revealing the rough brickwork. In the 15th century the original Romanesque church was modified and fortified. The church itself has no tower (just a raised choir) but the wall has three or four towers, including a massive gate tower. The littlest tower had a stork’s nest. This is a very cool complex, in need of some major restoration.
As I walked back down the hill, I ran into three people - ethnic Saxons - who moved to Germany 16 years ago, after the revolution. They return to visit the village every year. They knew the guy with the key and offered to summon him, but we regretfully declined, as we really didn’t have time to go back up there. I was quite pleased with myself, as I had conducted the entire conversation with them in my broken German. Although it was disappointing to miss going into this church, I was a bit comforted when I later read that the church interior was extensively altered in the 19th century.
We pressed on and reached <b><u><i>Biertan</i></u></b> around 4:30 pm. This was the only stretch of bad/unpaved road that we saw the entire day. Biertan is one of the Saxon villages listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site, and it is the largest of the fortified churches. There are 3 defensive walls and 6 towers. The church was built around 1500, in late Gothic style. We had read that Biertan is closed on Mondays, but our guide had assured us that we did not need to worry, as he knew the family that operated Biertan. There was a young woman with a key who allowed us to enter.
We took the path up the hill, saving the covered staircase for when we left. We walked around, looking at the outbuildings and towers, including the “marriage prison.” Couples who were seeking a divorce would be locked in this place, where there was one bed, one spoon, etc. The story is that they learned to share and that nobody ended up getting the divorce. We also saw the Catholic tower, which Daniel said was set aside for the use of the remaining Catholics when the main church became Evangelical Lutheran during the Reformation. The church has a lot of interesting features, including inlaid linden wood choir stalls, ceiling paintings of straight and squiggly rays coming from the rib intersections, and a famous lock on the treasure room door that has 19 bolts.
From the fortress’ vantage point on the top of the hill, we could see the town below, surrounding terraced hills, and an extensive group of multicolored beehives.
Back down in town, we visited a lovely craft shop, where I bought a small painted glass icon, a painted wood icon, and a carved wooden spoon. Mark and I each bought some very detailed painted (hollowed out) eggshells. These were supposedly from the shopkeeper’s private collection. To protect them for travel, the eggs were wrapped individually and placed inside a cut open water bottle, which was then re-closed and taped. We were very excited to find such beautiful eggs, as they were on our shopping list.
With that, we were DONE sightseeing for the day. Whew! We drove north from Biertan until we reached the Medias/Sighisoara road (14). In fairly short order we arrived at <b><i><u>Sighisoara</u></i></b>, where we drove up to the top of town. Our hotel was the <i><u>Hotel Sighisoara</u></i>, one of three 3* hotels located in within the citadel (this is supposedly the only inhabited citadel in Europe). We had requested the Casa Wagner, but I think we ended up with the Hotel Sighisoara because of room availability. Apparently, this building was originally the town hall. There is no elevator, so we opted for rooms on the first floor (one flight up). The rooms are very nice. The shower in Dad’s bathroom has the highest sill we’ve ever seen. Luckily there was a grab bar.
Dad was worn out, and we decided to eat right at the hotel (forgoing the restaurant at the Casa Wagner which came highly recommended by Fodorites Stu, Clifton and Michael). After previewing the dining room and the pub room downstairs, we chose to eat on the outdoor terrace because we had the most amazing clear, warm weather all day. Dinner worked out well: our food was quite good, we liked the Ciuc beer we ordered, and we were comfortable in our fleece jackets.
After Dad went to bed, Mark and I wandered around the citadel, hitting up the ATM – successfully! We used the hotel computer behind the front desk. The fellow on duty was so helpful, and even gave up his chair so we could both sit. We were able to update our online journal. By now it was pretty late, and I desperately needed some sleep. At the same time, I was absolutely blown away at our amazing experiences in Romania. I had to jot down my impressions at the end of this very busy day:
We had researched the Saxon fortified churches, had seen a lot of pictures, and chose a route that we thought we could follow, including an optimistic loop that could be chopped if we ran short of time. We anticipated that there would be a few nice ones and others plain or undistinguished. I had read that the villages were nothing special; only the churches would be of interest. If I found one or two churches that were exceptional, I figured that I’d count that as a good day.
As it turned out, the day was beyond my wildest dreams. Every one of the churches we saw was great – some fantastic. We saw a lot. Not every single one on my list, but most. We were able to go inside more than we expected. And I couldn’t get enough of the villages. The pastel houses all lined up and connected by the high walls to the courtyards in between houses, their plaster details and weathered shutters. The women sitting on benches, the horse carts, the jaunty dogs. Our encounters with people - seeing them going about their lives – picking potatoes, making hay, burning charcoal, tending sheep, – was an added serendipity to the sights that we planned to see. All made especially attractive by the brilliant blue sky and bright sun. We were happily eating our way through our film and digital memory supply. I couldn’t imagine that we could equal this day.
Photo link for this part (67 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbv0
Photo link with just the highlights (28 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbwM
Oct 3rd, 2007, 06:34 PM
#40
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Thanks LCBoniti and Brahmama - it's so nice to know there are some people are sticking with the report! I promise the entries for each day will be a good bit shorter from here on out.
I'm having a good bit of trouble with my html commands, so I apologize if there is any bad formatting in this post.
<b><u>Tuesday, September 26: Sighisoara to Maramures</u></b>
Mark and I met right after sunrise so we’d have time to walk the town before the long drive to Maramures. The old part of <b><u><i>Sighisoara</i></u></b> is a citadel on a hill, and is known for its many <u><i>towers</i></u>, each built by one of the town’s original medieval guilds. Armed with a little schematic map, we set forth to see as many of the towers as we could while staying within the citadel. Two cheerful dogs accompanied us most of the morning.
<u><i>A Word about dogs</i></u>
Before my trip I had read various references to dogs in Romania. Apparently Bucharest in particular had a huge problem with stray dogs. This is frequently attributed to the dislocation suffered by people (and their dogs) when Ceausescu flattened many of the city’s neighborhoods and forced people to live in Soviet-style apartment blocks. The city has taken steps to limit this problem, and we saw only one stray dog in Bucharest.
I had read a Fodor’s trip report that mentioned seeing lots of dead dogs on the side of the highway in Romania, so I was a bit apprehensive about what we might see on the driving portion of our trip. I’m happy to say that in our 10 days of travel, we saw only one dead dog. I can see how it could happen – there are few street lights along the highways, which are very rural.
We saw (and heard) lots of dogs on the trip. They were often running around in the villages and towns, but it wasn’t clear that they were strays or just a feature of lax/nonexistent leash laws. Almost without exception they looked happy and fairly well fed. In the bigger cities we saw lots of people walking their dogs on leashes.
--
We started at the main square and then found the covered staircase up to the 15th century <u><i>Church on the Hill (St. Nicholas) </i></u>. It was too early for the church to be open, and the substantial Saxon cemetery was also locked. We made our way down via a path. Groups of teens were streaming up to school on the hill.
We continued our way around the walls, seeing most of the surviving 9 towers. The little streets of the citadel are lined with pastel colored houses. The picturesque sight is only marred by the ubiquitous blaze-orange trash receptacles. Many of the buildings have whimsical metal cut outs as ornamental roof decorations, including a few with figures of pipers. Legend has it that it was to Sighisoara that the Pied Piper brought the children of Hamelin (Of course, other legends make Brasov the destination. We visited both towns, and I must say we saw more children in Sighisoara!)
At 8:30 we met Dad and Daniel for a good breakfast at the <u><i>Hotel Sighisoara</i></u>. The plan was for us to tour the <u><i>Clock Tower</i></u> while Daniel took care of some banking. We went to the tower, passing the birthplace of Vlad Dracul (the real-life basis for the Dracula legend), which is the oldest building in the citadel (a fire in 1676 gutted most of the area). Lots of construction activity bustled around the outside of the Clock Tower, and there was a sign on the door. As best we could decipher the Romanian, the tower was closed for renovation starting September 26 – boo, that was today!
The nearby <u><i>Church of the Dominican Monastery</i></u> was undergoing substantial exterior restoration. The interior was closed until much later in the morning. We ended up wandering outside the citadel through the Clock Tower gate and down a bit to the lower town. The light was finally getting good, so we shot some nice photos. And then it was time to leave for our drive north to Maramures.
For the record, a morning is not enough time to see Sighisoara! But we knew that coming into the trip. We discussed the Maramures question extensively in the planning stages. It’s a long drive to get up there, and we could easily have filled our 6 days in southern and central Transylvania. But I did want Mark (and my Dad) to see something new on this trip, and Maramures sounded different and fascinating. In the end we opted to include Maramures although it squeezed our itinerary, causing a lot of moving around and leaving little time for in-depth exploration.
So we left for Maramures. I found the scenes out the windows to be captivating. Romani people, cows, haystacks, farm work. We saw scores of horse carts, carrying every conceivable load (including a refrigerator). The zinc roofs of houses and churches glinted in the bright sunshine.
We stopped for lunch at <b><u><i>Bistriţa</i></u></b>, which was a prominent mining center in medieval Transylvania. The old town has many remnants of that history, including a Gothic cathedral (locked) that has some unusual/weird Baroque additions to the facade (currently undergoing some restoration work.) There are many lovely old buildings lining the <u><i>Piaţe Centrală</i></u>. We ate a decent pizza at a small restaurant.
Driving further north, we saw more wonderful rural scenes in the late September sun. Haying time in the fields, pumpkins, sunflowers, cornstalks. Houses have rows of tall thin windows on their south sides (and no windows at all on their north sides – is this for warmth or privacy?). There is fanciful wooden latticework on the top 1/3 of each window. Each house has a water well with an elaborate wooden box covering it.
Photo link Sighisoara to Maramures boundary (66 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbxI
Photo link, fewer pictures (28 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbyE
I'm having a good bit of trouble with my html commands, so I apologize if there is any bad formatting in this post.
<b><u>Tuesday, September 26: Sighisoara to Maramures</u></b>
Mark and I met right after sunrise so we’d have time to walk the town before the long drive to Maramures. The old part of <b><u><i>Sighisoara</i></u></b> is a citadel on a hill, and is known for its many <u><i>towers</i></u>, each built by one of the town’s original medieval guilds. Armed with a little schematic map, we set forth to see as many of the towers as we could while staying within the citadel. Two cheerful dogs accompanied us most of the morning.
<u><i>A Word about dogs</i></u>
Before my trip I had read various references to dogs in Romania. Apparently Bucharest in particular had a huge problem with stray dogs. This is frequently attributed to the dislocation suffered by people (and their dogs) when Ceausescu flattened many of the city’s neighborhoods and forced people to live in Soviet-style apartment blocks. The city has taken steps to limit this problem, and we saw only one stray dog in Bucharest.
I had read a Fodor’s trip report that mentioned seeing lots of dead dogs on the side of the highway in Romania, so I was a bit apprehensive about what we might see on the driving portion of our trip. I’m happy to say that in our 10 days of travel, we saw only one dead dog. I can see how it could happen – there are few street lights along the highways, which are very rural.
We saw (and heard) lots of dogs on the trip. They were often running around in the villages and towns, but it wasn’t clear that they were strays or just a feature of lax/nonexistent leash laws. Almost without exception they looked happy and fairly well fed. In the bigger cities we saw lots of people walking their dogs on leashes.
--
We started at the main square and then found the covered staircase up to the 15th century <u><i>Church on the Hill (St. Nicholas) </i></u>. It was too early for the church to be open, and the substantial Saxon cemetery was also locked. We made our way down via a path. Groups of teens were streaming up to school on the hill.
We continued our way around the walls, seeing most of the surviving 9 towers. The little streets of the citadel are lined with pastel colored houses. The picturesque sight is only marred by the ubiquitous blaze-orange trash receptacles. Many of the buildings have whimsical metal cut outs as ornamental roof decorations, including a few with figures of pipers. Legend has it that it was to Sighisoara that the Pied Piper brought the children of Hamelin (Of course, other legends make Brasov the destination. We visited both towns, and I must say we saw more children in Sighisoara!)
At 8:30 we met Dad and Daniel for a good breakfast at the <u><i>Hotel Sighisoara</i></u>. The plan was for us to tour the <u><i>Clock Tower</i></u> while Daniel took care of some banking. We went to the tower, passing the birthplace of Vlad Dracul (the real-life basis for the Dracula legend), which is the oldest building in the citadel (a fire in 1676 gutted most of the area). Lots of construction activity bustled around the outside of the Clock Tower, and there was a sign on the door. As best we could decipher the Romanian, the tower was closed for renovation starting September 26 – boo, that was today!
The nearby <u><i>Church of the Dominican Monastery</i></u> was undergoing substantial exterior restoration. The interior was closed until much later in the morning. We ended up wandering outside the citadel through the Clock Tower gate and down a bit to the lower town. The light was finally getting good, so we shot some nice photos. And then it was time to leave for our drive north to Maramures.
For the record, a morning is not enough time to see Sighisoara! But we knew that coming into the trip. We discussed the Maramures question extensively in the planning stages. It’s a long drive to get up there, and we could easily have filled our 6 days in southern and central Transylvania. But I did want Mark (and my Dad) to see something new on this trip, and Maramures sounded different and fascinating. In the end we opted to include Maramures although it squeezed our itinerary, causing a lot of moving around and leaving little time for in-depth exploration.
So we left for Maramures. I found the scenes out the windows to be captivating. Romani people, cows, haystacks, farm work. We saw scores of horse carts, carrying every conceivable load (including a refrigerator). The zinc roofs of houses and churches glinted in the bright sunshine.
We stopped for lunch at <b><u><i>Bistriţa</i></u></b>, which was a prominent mining center in medieval Transylvania. The old town has many remnants of that history, including a Gothic cathedral (locked) that has some unusual/weird Baroque additions to the facade (currently undergoing some restoration work.) There are many lovely old buildings lining the <u><i>Piaţe Centrală</i></u>. We ate a decent pizza at a small restaurant.
Driving further north, we saw more wonderful rural scenes in the late September sun. Haying time in the fields, pumpkins, sunflowers, cornstalks. Houses have rows of tall thin windows on their south sides (and no windows at all on their north sides – is this for warmth or privacy?). There is fanciful wooden latticework on the top 1/3 of each window. Each house has a water well with an elaborate wooden box covering it.
Photo link Sighisoara to Maramures boundary (66 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbxI
Photo link, fewer pictures (28 pictures):
share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8DZsmzZuzbyE
