Tag Archives: Romania

Bran to Măgura – why is Day 1 always a Bastard?

Sunday 21 September 2025 – The day’s main agenda item was the first hike of this trip. According to our information, it would be fairly short – 10km – and take four hours. I suppose I should have inferred from those data what the route would be like; under normal circumstances, Jane and I would be able to walk 10km in around two hours; on other walking trips, maybe three. But I was blissful in my ignorance.

Breakfast at Casa din Bran was slightly weird.  The menu consisted of just four items.

I opted for number 3, and Jane made the better choice of number 2. It wasn’t bad, just odd to our way of breakfast thinking.

Anyway, we deposited our bags at the hotel’s reception and set off on a gloriously sunny day with temperatures ideal for walking, in the upper teens Centigrade. I took a final photo of Bran, which is very picturesque,

and we turned off the main road to seek our path.  The light was perfect for a couple of shots of Bran Castle.

As we left, I noticed a cross, perched high on a rock. Thinking that we’d be headed in a different direction, I gave it no further thought as we headed to the start of our hike. We saw a couple of hikers preparing also for the start of their walk

and seeming to be spending some time on those preparations.  When we got to the same place, we found out why. It was fucking steep, that’s why. It was so steep that we attepted to convince ourselves that other paths might be the right one, but no; this was the official route.

It wasn’t hiking, it was fucking mountaineering.

I have never before had to make my way up a path this steep. As well as steep, it was reasonably treacherous underfoot at times, which added to the general feeling of being hard done by. After a short distance but a somewhat longer time, we emerged at a viewpoint.

That was the very cross that I’d decided we wouldn’t be going anywhere near. And very cross is how I felt that I hadn’t taken a photo to show you how tough the whole thing was. However, the view was pretty spectactular.

As we were about to move on, a group of four lads, probably early 20s, came storming up the path which had virtually reduced us to hands and knees; they had only a short time before meeting a guide (presumably at the castle) so didn’t venture further; quite apart from anything else they were wearing regular trainers, and one was in a knee brace! We took their photo for them and went on our way – oh to be young and fit.

I got a couple of pictures of the castle that are even more satisfying for having been the reward for hard labour

however, the pleasure of getting these photos soon evaporated as the hard labour continued.

The path we were taking, you’ll notice, was headed perpendicular to the contour lines, i.e. as steep as possible given the terrain.

It had been 40 minutes unmitigated toil to get to the castle viewpoint. A further 40 minutes of similarly unmitigated toil got us to another viewpoint

where we realised that we were up with the eagles.

The unmitigated toil continued

then relented for a short while

before continuing once more

for another 40 minutes or so, overtaken at one point by a couple of rank cheaters.

By now we’d been going for a couple of hours, and so passing a table and benches gave us a nice chance for a rest

and to admire the view.

As we were preparing to leave, a goup of four hikers came from the direction we were headed. They were British, and so we had a nice chat for a couple of minutes before we pressed on.

And on. And up. And up.

We eventually reached the high point (geographically, not emotionally) of the trek after four hours of more or less consistently remorseless uphill. We’d climbed 600 metres in 5km and we were knackered. The views were great, though.

We rested for half an hour or so before embarking on what we fondly believed would be the easier bit – getting back down.

Wrong again.

The start of the descent was so steep that I needed to use my walking poles to help me get down. I’ve never felt the need to use poles on a descent before. This was what we came down

before continuing a much less steep downhill towards Măgura. There was an electric fence in our way, but its owner had thoughtfully made it easy for hikers to pass.

One might be forgiven for thinking that the rest of the way down was easy, and I suppose that, comparatively, it was. But we were both very, very tired by this point, and the continued stress on knees and thighs meant that the rest of the hike was still quite hard work. There were wonderful views, of course,

and we saw some of the haystacks that might possibly have given old Vlad the idea.

It’s an indication of our state of mind – and body – that when we reached the “road” into Măgura

it was an actual relief to be walking a strada bianca. (You’ll remember, of course, how much we came to hate these when walking in Italy.)  Finally, we caught sight of Măgura,

with a pretty church on the left and our accommodation for the night on the right, which is also the main restaurant in Măgura, called, imaginatively, La Măgura.

We had a slightly chaotic reception there, as all the staff were busy serving Sunday lunch, but the proprietress showed us to our room, which had a balcony with a lovely view

and enabled us to get a Nice Cup Of Tea and a couple of cold beers, things that we both really needed by this point. The four-hour walk had taken us 6 hours, but I suppose we were grimly satisfied that we’d made it, albeit at a trudge for the last four of them. The tea and beer on the balcony was wonderful and after a short restorative kip we went down for some dinner, which gave us the chance to plan for the morrow. As seems normal on our walking excursions, the first day’s hiking was an utter bastard. What was due to come next?

Our official schedule had us trudging hiking to the neighbouring town of Zărnești, which is some 7km away and somewhat downhill from Măgura. The benighted souls who had organised the itinerary for us had, though, invented a route which was 15km long and involved another 600m ascent (and therefore a 900m descent). Looking at OutdoorActive, the app which we’re using to not get lost, we saw that this route was categorised as “Demanding”, whereas the stroll in the park we’d undergone today was “Moderate”. So there’s no fucking way we’ll be doing that, then.  There’s a perfectly good cheater’s route which covers that 7km with no uphill at all so you can bet your sweet bippy that this is the route we’ll be taking. The Clint Eastwood option: “A man should know his limitations”.

I hope I haven’t bored you with my ceaseless whining about how tough today has been; indeed, I hope you’ve been able to have a gentle laugh at our expense, and will thus be prepared to check in tomorrow to see how our cheating went.

Bran Management

Saturday 20 September 2025 – Today’s mission was to decamp north to start with the mainstream of the week’s objectives – doing a bit of hiking in the Carpathian Mountains. Like (and a fraction more extensive than) the Alps, this is a multinational range, spanning from a little corner of Serbia via most of Slovakia, squeezing a narrow passage through Ukraine and taking up the north-western half of Romania. The rest of our time here will be spent doing what we opted for in a moment of lunacy love best – walking up and down hills in search of great views and splendid photos.

First we had to get out of Bucharest, and Jane had cunningly organised a driver to take us to a town called Bran, which, our information gave us to believe, was a two-hour drive, some 160km away. Somewhat inaccurately, as it turned out: the distance was some 190km and the journey actually took over four hours – traffic congestion and road works meant that we averaged less than 50kph for the journey. Just as well we’d visited the loo before we set out, then.

The congestion started immediately in Bucharest – completely normal, according to our driver. Still, it gave us a chance to take a couple of photos of Bucharest landmarks: a slightly better crack at the Arc de Triomf;

and a photo of an archetypal communist era slab of masonry.

This was, laughably, called the House of the Free Press, built under Communist rule and named “Casa Scînteii” (House of the Spark) after the Party newspaper edited and printed there. That is presumably free press as in you didn’t have to pay to get a copy. At least, I hope you didn’t.

After we left the Bucharest urban sprawl, the landscape changed into a much more bucolic one. Although we were on a dual carriageway, the undying spark of Romanian entrepreneurialism was unfazed. Operators small and large were there with their offers for the passing traffic, which was often at a standstill, even away from the city.

We passed Interesting Churches, and other striking buildings

as well as other mystery objects.

The terrain became mountainous, which showed that our driver was headed in the right direction,

and then caught our first sight of Bran.

Bran is famous for its castle, which everyone knows was “Dracula’s Castle”, where the legend states that local Prince Vlad the Impaler was used by Bram Stoker as the basis for his story about the vampire Count Dracula.

Trouble is, that’s bollocks.

Bram Stoker never visited Romania, so he never set eyes on Bran Castle. Vlad the Impaler only visited Bran Castle once – he was imprisoned there for two weeks before being shipped off to be imprisoned elsewhere. However, the good marketing folks of the region never let the facts get in the way of a good story, and now Bran and its castle are the centre of a flourishing tourist industry which they have milked assiduously. We willingly submitted ourselves to the marketing machine, as I hoped to get some splendid images of the great lowering presence of the castle and its grim interior. OK, they’d be just the same as everyone else’s, but they would be my images. Oh, and Jane’s, of course.

We checked into our accommodation, Casa din Bran,

and admired the view from our room for a few minutes.

We had about half an hour to spare before we had to get to the castle for an English langage guided tour. We set off to see if we could find the entrance to the castle. A short walk through Bran, which is quite picturesque,

led us to the entrance. It’s not difficult to find, as a whole host of retail opportunities have sprouted up around it.

You can see the castle above all the marketing brouhaha,

and they even have a small model of the area on display.

With 20 minutes to spare, we were able to take coffee in a garden near where we had to wait for our guide.

It turned out that we were the only two for the 4pm English tour, so we had an hour or so in the company of Darius,

who gave us a very entertaining run down on the place. Historically, the current stone fortress replaced a wooden building in the late 1300s. It had a strong strategic position, on the border between Wallachia and Transylvania.

In 1438–1442, the castle was used in defense against the Ottoman Empire, and later became a customs post, exploiting its position on the mountain pass between Transylvania and Wallachia.

The focus on myth and legend means that the real story of the castle, which is really interesting, is all but lost on most of the world. For example, not a lot of people know that Maria, the queen of Romania between 1914 and 1927, was British – born Princess Marie, a granddaughter of Queen Victoria. She could have been queen of England, but didn’t marry the future George V because he was a cousin, instead becoming the wife of King Ferdinand I, who took over after the death of Carol I. Maria was multi-talented – artist, nurse, diplomat – and very popular with the Romanian people. The castle now is effectively a museum dedicated to displaying art and furniture collected by Queen Maria.

Another surprise for me was that the castle is actually (a) quite small and (b) was really lived-in;

it wasn’t in any way a ceremonial location – Maria lived there and loved it. In these respects, it reminds me of Lindisfarne Castle, in the north-east of England.  The rooms were properly heated with some wonderful heaters

and the place was properly decorated, as you can see from the beams in the picture above and the example of this door.

There is some exquisite furniture,

and the castle is laid out to take visitors along a route showing off the rooms and the furniture, supplemented by display boards with lots of information and, in our case, a guide. Being set high, it offers great views over the surrounding countryside

and, being a castle, offers some great internal scenes as well.

Of course, the marketing machine exploits the legend mercilessly, and why not? There’s a picture of the castle (I’m not sure whether this is the original or a print)

that could well be what Bram Stoker saw as he researched Transylvania’s legend and folklore from his base in Budapest and what gave him the idea for Count Dracula.  Vlad the Impaler’s dad was Vlad Dracul (Vlad the dragon in medieval Romanian) and Vlad himself was therefore Dracula, son of the dragon before he got the Impaler schtick. The fact that dracul means the devil in modern Romanian didn’t do his reputation any harm… So there are plenty of links between the story and the castle, although they’re much more tenuous than most people might think.

The Impaler thing is displayed, along with many other gruesome items, in the torture chamber, a multi-storey exhibit in one of the towers.

and the exit from the castle can be (if you pay extra) via a “Time Tunnel”, actually an elevator which descends into the bowels of the castle, so that you pass further ghoulish exhibits

as you exit from the castle into the gardens. There are various other horror-related things going on in the bazaar between the entrance and the castle itself.

The Dracula nonsense aside (and even that was a bit of fun), we had a really interesting 90 minutes in the castle, and left feeling that we had a much better grasp of the real history of the place.

After dinner back at the hotel (the bar even stocked Gunpowder gin, which shows it has class), we had merely to start to psych ourselves up for the morrow, when our real labours start with a hike over the mountains to a neighbouring village called Magura. This will involve more uphill work than downhill and I confess that I don’t feel quite ready for it, but come back tomorrow and you’ll find out if we made it OK.

 

Bucharest! It’s…complicated

Friday 19 September 2025 – We’ve had a day wandering round Bucharest and my brain’s full. In a single post, it’s impossible to do it justice, so basically here are some random jottings from the day. We started with a guided walking tour, a goup of 12 of us, steered and educated by Horia,who led us through five kilometres of huge architectural variation and 20 centuries of turbulent history. When explaining how the country of Romania and the city of Bucharest have developed, his explanations almost always started, “It’s complicated….”. Frankly, given the history, I’m not bloody surprised.

  • Firstly, it was under the Romans in the 2nd and 3rd centuries and called Dacia (that’s pronounced Dachier, not Daysier, btw, so you can correct people’s pronunciations when they talk about Dacia Duster cars).
  • Then the Romans withdrew, as you do when your empire collapses (UK, look out!) and there were waves of Goths, Huns, Slavs and any number of other barbarians passing through.
  • By the 13th or 14th century, the area consisted of three principalities – Wallachia in the south, with Bucharest as capital; Moldavia in the east; and Transylvania, which was controlled by Habsburgs from Hungary. Don’t confuse Moldavia with modern Moldova, which is a real country and which occupies some of the area called Moldavia. Come on, keep up at the back.
  • From the 14th century, the Ottomans got into the act, expanding into the Balkans from Turkey until their influence butted up against Christian Europe as they squeezed Wallachia and Moldavia.
  • In the 15th century, Wallachia became a vassal state of the Ottoman empire, which meant it was largely left alone but compelled to pay tribute in funds and military support. Occasionally the locals resisted this liability, as you might understand, and the Ottomans responded by invading. The most notable rebel was one Vlad Țepeș; yes, “Vlad the Impaler”, who was the most effective leader of resistance.
  • Vlad, Horia told us, was in charge of an army numbering 5,000 which successfully repelled an Ottoman force ten times as large. He exploited Bucharest’s location – a swampy forest, basically, and used lepers and plague victims as soldiers – the first use of bacterial and biological warfare? Ottoman soldiers were reluctant to engage, ran away and were easy to trap in the forests, where they were impaled. Vlad invented a new and more brutal way of impaling victims so that they tended to die more of dehydration than of being actually, you know, impaled, and then left them in the forest as a warning to the Ottomans. Psychological warfare: nasty, but effective. Despite this resistance, Wallachia remained a vassal state to the Ottomans.
  • In the 19th century, Romania sought indepence, and fought with Russia against the Turks to fight free of the Ottomans, becoming a kingdom under King Carol 1 in 1881.
  • After the first World War, Transylvania became part of greater Romania.
  • In the second World War, Romania allied with Germany, but then switched sides at the end, allowing a Soviet takeover in the aftermath of the war. Ceausescu at first worked for independence from the Soviet regime, but turned into a harsh dictator, equivalent, in Horia’s view, to how North Korea is today
  • Eventually, the people got fed up with Ceausescu and rebelled in 1989. Since then it has officially been a democracy, but Horia was firmly of the opinion that elements of the Ceausescu regime managed to stay in control, and today’s Social Democratic party is their legacy; corruption and incompetence are marring Romania’s efforts to be a modern, efficient country.

We started the tour just outside Hanul Manuc, the restaurant we’d eaten at yesterday evening. Just there is the St. Anthony church and the remnants of Vlad’s castlewhich are being developed as a museum. The restaurant itself used to be a caravanserai, a place where merchants would come and stay to do business, for days or even months, before moving on. The caravanserai occupied what is now the courtyard that we ate in. Interestingly, the paving leading into itis not stone, but wood.Apparently, much of Bucharest was once paved with wood, although not of this high quality.The route of our tour led us through the Old Town, some of which remains, but much of which was demolished in the communist era.

I found the place impressive but dilapidated. There were many fine buildings, and much evidence of the French influence that led to Bucharest being called “Little Paris” in the 19th century

Victoria Shopping Centre

Palace of the Deposits and Consignments – a banking hall

City Library

Military College

Athenaeum

but there are many places where the architecture is a tortured mix of the classical and the communist era.Some buildings have a distinctive red disc on themwhich means that they are at risk of falling down if there’s another earthquake (there was a big one in 1977 which destroyed a lot of Bucharest, but not as much as the communists did, apparently).Many of these fine buildings are really quite dilapidated, Horia suggested that this is a combination of neglect under the communist regime (if they didn’t actively tear them down) and current private ownership which has neither the funds nor the will to pay for the upkeep.That said, there are many quirky corners of the old town.and its streets are thickly populated with bars and restaurants.There is so much to the old town that I can’t possibly do it justice without you drowning in photos, but it’s a great place to walk around, with a lively vibe – and plenty of crowds.The other thing there are a lot of is churches; Romania is a very religious country, as we saw in the devoted obeisances paid by people in the churches we visited. Some were in the old town, some outside that area. A big attraction for tourists and locals alike in the old town is the church of the “Stavropoleos” Monastery, which is beautifully decorated outsideand in.Of course, the communist era ranked very highly in Horia’s itinerary. We visited Revolution Square, site of what was the Romanian Communist Party Central Committee building (now the Ministry of the Interior)where one can see the balcony from which Ceausescu gave his final speech before realising that there was going to be an uprising which would unseat him.I remember seeing the news coverage of that speech, and the look of panic on his face as he realised that he’d lost control of the people and that the peasants really were revolting.We passed the Palace Hall, a 1960s communist era buildingwhich now bears the scars of the revolution that unseated Ceausescu in the form of bullet holes.It’s not the only building with bullet holes scarring it – there are others, reflecting the desperate efforts of Ceausescu to retain power by ordering his troops to gun down the rebels, which only delayed his unseating by one day – but it was a very bloody day.Our tour ended at the parliament building, which is simply immense – the heaviest building in the world and largest apart from the Pentagon, apparently.It was started in 1984, in the Ceausescu era and by the time he was deposed it was 70% finished and by then more costly to destroy than to finish. Accordingly, it was finished in 1997, and now has some 4,000 rooms in it. As well as serving as police, military and secret service headquarters, it apparently pays its way through tours, exhibitions and other events, but consumes a significant portion of the city’s electricity if all the lights are on.Other churches we visited included the Cathedral of the Patriarchy, which is south of the old town and is a striking building with a beautiful courtyard beside it.Inside is, like the others we visited, elaborately decorated.Back in the old town we also visited the Russian Orthodox church of Saint Nicholas,another building which is beautifully appointed outside and in.A few other photos from our walking around the city.The last thing we did was to take an early dinner at another of Bucharest’s famous eateries, Caru’ cu bere, the Beer Cart, the “7th Most Legendary Restaurant in the World”. We’ve been legendary on two days running, and I can tell you it’s quite tiring and very filling. The interior of the place is extraordinary.We indulged in more traditional Romanian sausages and much photography whilst we were there. Apart from walking back to the hotel to try to work off some of those sausages, this was the last thing we did in Bucharest. Tomorrow, we leave for parts more northerly, where Vlad’s name crops up again, as well as another famous character, about whom we will, I’m sure, learn more when we get there. Why don’t you join us?