Okay...How Do You Spell That, Again?

It had been drizzling when we left the farm the night before, and the forecast had been for rain, but as I wrote earlier, Romanians must be weather-challenged, as the forecast again proved wrong.  It was yet another spectacular morning, with not a cloud in sight.  

We would be traveling through the heart of Saxon (read German) Transylvania today.  We could have easily been in Germany or Austria, especially in the little towns, which had traditional German homes.  Rows of homes looking like one solid structure, but really only connected by the walled gates outside.  Behind each gate were elaborate private courtyards, very reminiscent of the architecture of northern Germany.  My grandparents, in fact, lived in such a home.  All the family area was behind the outer wall, away from prying eyes.  In every town, too, we saw that there were Lutheran and Catholic Churches, usually only distinguishable by whether they were topped by a crucifix or a ball, atop their steeple.  This day, too, we caught sight of several Gypsy wagons, which we were told were increasingly rare.  The Gypsies -- or Rroma people (there is a debate as to which term is politically correct, but evidently the people themselves prefer the term Gypsy over Rroma.  I had no idea, but they originated in India.  Evidently they were a caste within India, known for their metal work and musical abilities.  The king of Persia invited a migration of them into his empire, on the condition that they play music for his subjects, who otherwise had little to no opportunity for such entertainment.  In exchange, the Gypsies were given land, which they were expected to work.  After a year or so, the king was dismayed to learn that the Gypsies were not working the land (they had no experience doing so, and it was not part of their culture).  In addition, they were not playing their music for free.  Legend has it that the king was so angry, he expelled them, and their still-continuing migration began.  They moved across the Middle and Near East, and eventually crossed into Europe and moved northward.  To this day, Romania has the largest population of Gypsies in the world, but they live on every continent now, and as a percentage of the population, they remain quite small.  The term Gypsy itself is derived from early misperceptions that they came from Egypt, rather than India.   Under communism, Ceausescu forcibly moved them into villages and tried to get them to go to school.  Traditionally they have not embraced education, and have preferred to live as nomads.  We drove through a couple of majority-Gypsy towns during our trip, including on this day.  The modern Romanian Government conditions receipt of any financial aid on people sending their children to school.  As such, they've been fairly successful in increasing school attendance among the remaining Gypsy population, and indeed as it was the first day of the fall semester for Romanian schools, we saw several families walking their children to and from school.  The Gypsies were easy to spot, as they still wear brightly colored dresses, and the men wear distinctive hats.  The town we drove through had a strong concentration of tin craftsmen.  We saw them selling their wares along the road, and there were quite a few wealthy families in this town.  You can see in the picture, but evidently to show off their wealth, they will build elaborate (many would say gaudy) homes, with highly decorated roofs.  They will, however, not complete the inside, nor will they furnish it.  Instead, they often live in a tent behind the home, which is in fact just a monument to their wealth, even though they don't live inside.  It was all very strange to me, to say the least.

An Unoccupied Gypsy Home, Built To Advertise Wealth

We stopped in the small town of Biertran, to visit another fortified church.  Biertran was near the cultural border between Saxon and Hungarian Transylvania, and is the site for an annual gathering of ethnic Germans who emigrated out of Romania.  Evidently the festival is quite large, and it was being held a few weeks after our visit.  The main church within the fortifications we visited was Lutheran, dating back to the 13th century, and everything inside was still in German.  The local guide told us there are only 90 remaining parishioners, and the congregation is so small and old, that a Lutheran minister only visits once a month.   The guide had tears in her eyes as she acknowledged that the congregation would be gone in under a decade.  In another sign of religious coexistence, there is also a Roman Catholic chapel within the fortifications, which was built to accommodate people who elected to not go along with the Protestant Reformation.  Also within the fortification was the so-called "marriage chamber."  Legend has it that to dissuade divorce in the area, any couple that voiced their intent to separate would be locked in the one-bedroom apartment.  They had one set of tableware and cutlery, and one bed.  After 30 days they were released.  If legends are to be believed, they only had one divorce in the area over more than 400 years.

The main square in tiny Saxon town of Biertran

Biertran Fortified Church

Many of the churches had wooden covered bridges to access them

Original Flags in Church From the Various Guilds in the Town (1400's)

A Monument in the Back of Church for Men Killed in WW1

Biertran Altar

View Over Biertran

The So-Called "Marriage Chamber"

Small Roman Catholic Chapel for non-Reformationists

Biertran

Crypt Covered Moved to Small Museum in Biertran

Our next destination was another UNESCO World Heritage Site; this time, the walled city from the 12th century called Sighisoara (pronounced, ziggy-shore-ah).  The walled old city is closed to vehicular traffic, so the bus dropped us at the base of the hill.  A small tram waited for us, and transported those who didn't want to walk up hill.  Katherine and I welcomed the chance to be outside in the beautiful, even hot, weather, and walked up through two rings of outer gates, before we all congregated in the main market square.  We had lunch together in a hotel, which had been the formal city hall.  The meal could easily have been in Budapest, as we had a choice of goulash or chicken paprikash, both of which were slightly adapted to make them Romanian cuisine.  The goulash did not have red peppers, and the chicken paprikash had a white sauce.  Both were excellent, and paired nicely with the local Transylvanian beer we'd enjoyed at several other meals.  The architecture here, too, was distinctly Hungarian, and the city had been an administrative center for Hungary until it was unified into Romania after World War I.  

The Outer-Most Walls of Sighisoara

Between the Outer and Inner City Walls

We had time to explore on our own after lunch, following a brief walking tour with our guide.  We saw the house where King Vlad III (or Vlad the Impaler) was born in 1431.  His father was a noble man, known as Vlad Dracul, which means "dragon" or "devil."  The Vlad we know as Dracula was actually Vlad the 3rd, or "Son of the Dragon/Devil," which is where the shortened version -- and now infamous -- form of the name came.  Vlad II -- Dracula's father -- seized the throne of Wallacia (southern Romania) in 1436, at which time the family left Sighisoara.  The story of his father's (multiple) reigns and Vlad III's time spent in Constantinople as a tribute prisoner would easily fill a book.  Suffice it to say, he became king and chose fear and terror as the way to instill order at home and deter enemies from aboard.  They say crime all but ceased under his rule, as he did indeed cruelly punish anyone accused of a crime, and his "favorite" form was to impale them.  On the day we visited Bran Castle, we heard in great detail how impalement works and that there was in fact "an art" to doing it correctly, so that the victim did not die a quick or painless death.  For his enemies, he did all he could to advertise his forms of punishment, so as to dissuade rivals to the throne, as well as foreign adversaries.  He is reported to have had hundreds of corpses dug up and impaled, alongside recent criminals, to form acres of impaled bodies, which were placed in strategic mountain passes, to ensure that anyone passing through (or thinking of invading) would see them.  The house where he was born and lived for a short time is now a restaurant, with the obligatory tacky tourist souvenir shop.  We passed.

Clock Town and Glockenspiel in Sighisoara

Yellow House on Bottom Right is Birthplace of Vlad the Impaler

City Hall

Monument to Vlad III (Vlad the Impaler)

New Lutheran Church in Sighisoara

Says It All

The city was extremely charming and we both really enjoyed it.  In the center of the old city, at the top of another big hill, sits a church and school which are only accessible via a wooden covered staircase, with more than 200 very uneven steps.  It is still used every day by students, who must walk up and down to school.  We ventured up top for the view, and as this was the warmest day of our trip, we were happen it was covered.

The Covered Walkway to the Church and School

Old Lutheran Church Overlooking Sighisoara

After all reconvened in the market square, we made our way back down to the bus and continued through countryside to the small city of Targu Mures, where we were to spend the night.  This was the only night of the trip during which we spent only one night in the same place.  I did like that part of the trip, as there was not as much packing and moving of bags as on past trips.

The skies clouded by the time we reached Targu Mures, and it was sprinkling when we made the short walk into the lobby of our hotel.  Of all our hotels, I think this was our favorite.  For others on the tour, I think this was their least favorite, but the hotel was exceeding modern and quirky, which we enjoyed.  Every detail had a modernist feel to it, and the hotel seemed completely at odds with the surroundings.  Even the doors to the room were built like hidden panels in a giant wall.  

Door to Our Hotel Room in Targu Mures

We had walked quite a bit during the day, but had resigned to walk down into the old city for a look around and to grab some dinner.  The guide had recommended a few places, while our tour book said the best restaurant in the city was in our hotel.  While settling in the room, I read that there was a spa on the lower level, and they advertised hour-long relaxation massages at the ridiculous rate of about $20.  We walked down to the lobby, prepared to head into town, when we ran into our tour director, who was chatting with the front desk staff.  I elected to ask about massages, assuming they were closed or booked, or to learn that the prices had long-since changed.  None of that was the case, and we were told they could take Katherine at 7:00pm and me at 8:00pm.  Looking at our watches, we elected to eat there in the hotel and then get our massages.  Not too bad of an evening.  The restaurant, too, was our second or third favorite of the trip -- after our tasting-menu experience at The Artist in Bucharest.  The service was way over the top; in fact, we had the restaurant to ourselves for our entire time there.  The drinks and food were outstanding.  Timing was perfect, as it was nearly 7:00pm when we went up to the room.  By 9:15pm we were both in bed after extremely welcome massages, though we admitted to both feeling a bit decadent for the "splurge." 

[CLICK "OLDER POSTS" BELOW TO CONTINUE WITH THE BLOG]