Blog of Romania

Clear skies, sunny but cold weather and, like the song goes, blue sea. Deserted beach, frozen sand, waves breaking lazily along the shore. A dog runs away, scared by the ice cold water. This is how Vama Veche looked like on February 2nd. You almost couldn’t recognize the beach. Too few algae, almost no trash - Romanians aren’t suckers, of course they didn’t clean up the trash they left on New Year’s -, no open pubs.

The image of a deserted Vama Veche is weird. On one hand, it looks like one of the weekday summer mornings when the village doesn’t turn into a neigborhood of Bucharest. On the other hand, it looks like a picture torn out of a western, with a small town deserted because of the bandits, wind blowing along its streets, where the dogs left behind when the owners ran away rule the territory.

We got there on February 1st, in the evening. We stayed at Casa Nicoleta, the one before the last on the right, on the road across from the one going towards the sea. No one would be so silly to stay in a tent in the middle of winter.

Dogs, rulers of the wilderness

At 8.30 in the evening, we got restless: let’s see the sea! Our host had told us to be careful because there were a lot of dogs running loose. We agreed with him and did what we wanted, anyway. We met two packs, rocks flew, one dog ran away whimpering and another one followed it, scared.

Going to the beach was the most difficult, as when we came back we only saw one dog following us, a hundred or so meters behind. However, we weren’t spared the long barking of every dog in town and the haunted Wild West town look of the surroundings.

While in summer everything is lit up from all the bars, in winter the only light comes from the dim bulbs on the poles. When you get near Ovidiu’s only a quarter of a light can reach you, and when you set foot on the last piece of beach before the sea, it’s already dark.

Only the stars shed some light. Billions. You will never see something like this in Bucharest. In the capital, the sky is covered in smog. Here, the sky is as clear as the sea.

Our customer, our master

The Romanian who said that it’s better to build a carriage in winter and a sleigh in summer wasn’t wrong. To paraphrase him, I’d say that Vama Veche locals make money in summer and sources for the money for the coming summer, in winter .

On Satuday, our second day in Vama Veche, the first thing we saw on the way to the beach were the workers. They were building and hammering away. Vama Veche is literally being raised. New buildings are growing. A Mercedes is parked in front of Dambovita, where they’re building something. The village on the Bulgarian border seem to belong to investers now, not to the locals.

On the road parallel to the beach, where Club A is in summer, another building has appeared. A sort of motel which, I can bet, will be ready by the beginning of June. Let’s build! Let’s not leave one free inch of land! people seem to be thinking.

Silence

The sky is of a rare blue. No cloud in sight. Almost all my photos turn out too white. There’s no wind. The sea is surreal blue, I’ve never seen it so clear and calm. A corner of heaven at 12 degrees Celsius. No one to bother you, all your problems left behind, in the day to day world of concrete and dust, only silence.

On the beach, a handful of runaways from the city have stretched out a couple of chairs and built a fire. We are not the only ones who ran away from the stress of the city. Further away, towards Proplaca, a couple of kids came by car and have started on a bottle of liquor. In front of them, three guys are throwing sticks in the sea. One of them asks for a cigarette. I give him three. Further on, a couple is lifting their blanket off the sand. They’ve finished their picnic and are heading for the car.

Vama Veche is probably one of the few oasis of silence you can run to. Kill the stress, the week’s annoyances - although “the month’s” would be more correct -, get away from the worries. If it were possible, I would’ve stayed there for a least a week. As things stood, we came back to the same grey Bucharest, the same worries, same problems and same stress.

Other photos:

Original post: here. (RO)
Alex is a 23-year old journalist and has been living in Bucharest for two years.

[Read part 1: Sighisoara]

Although the distance between Sighisoara and Sibiu is only around 100 km, there is no direct train between the two. I was a bit wary of taking the Personal (the worst type of train around here) and changing trains once on the way, but we couldn’t find any bus at a reasonable hour. We got at the train station in time… and we waited for 10 minutes for the train to appear. Now, I don’t mind waiting a bit, but we only had 15 minutes to make the connection.

Despite my worries, the train was pretty empty, it wasn’t dirty, and a couple of nice people helped us get off at the right stop - where the first thing we saw was the next train. Perfect timing.

In Sibiu, I was very proud to see I still knew the way to Piata Mare (Large Square), so we managed to find our hostel (situated in Piata Mica - Small Square) very easily. It was my first time in a hostel and I didn’t know what to expect. It was awesome. The staff was friendly, our roommates (two girls and one guy, all Romanian) were nice, and the other room was filled with foreigners apparently having a lot of fun. I was tempted to extend my stay for an extra day just to get to talk to all the people, but we had previous plans so we couldn’t.

The first night in Sibiu was very mellow - we just ate and came back to the hostel, where we just played cards and rummy until we went to sleep.

We woke up to snow in air and on the ground. We were almost the first people up, so we got peace and quiet (and no que to shower). We got into tourist mode again and started off.

First stop: the Evangelical Church and its tower. I’d visited the place a year before and I was eager to see it again. You climb a looot of stairs… then you get to the church bells… then you climb a looot more stairs.

We stopped to study the bells closer and Lerri was wondering what happens if you’re under them when they ring. So, of course, the second she finished saying that, the bells rung. We shrieked like little girls. That was one hell of a coincidence.

The view from the top is amazing, so I’ll let the pictures speak. The only downside of the snow was that we couldn’t see the beautiful colorful tiles on the church roof (which you can see in this picture I took in summer 2006).

Next up, we had a bit of fun in the snow (butt sledging rocks… until you hit the bottom of the slope), looked at the old walls of the city plus towers (impressive) and visited the Museum of Natural History (small, but nice). We hadn’t had enough stairs-climbing for a day, so we went up another tower - the Town Council tower this time. The inside is not the interesting, but from the top you get a great view of the center of Sibiu.

And that was it. A trek through a couple of bookstores in the search of the elusive map of the Saxon fortresses (which we managed to find in the end), a visit to a Belgian chocolaterie with a chocolate fountain the thought of which makes me drool (also seen in this entry) and an unplanned round of fun at the tackiest wedding ever (we didn’t take pictures, but the bride’s dress looked exactly like a wedding cake; I hope she didn’t see us laugh our asses off when she came out of the church). Afterwards, on the train and home… Tired but happy. And ready for the next trip.

Jen takes care of BlogofRomania and wants to travel as much as possible. Feel free to invite her to visit.
Post written for BlogofRomania.

How does a promising trip start? Not by waking up at 6 a.m. and still missing your train. But we nonetheless managed it.

‘We’ means a Romanian (i.e. me) and an American (i.e. Lerri [say it like Marie with an L; NOT Larry], freshly arrived from Ukraine), who had known each other for about 4 years but had only met face-to-face 4 days before. The Romanian should’ve known better than to assume that 7 a.m. traffic is much better than at 9 a.m., or she could’ve at least thought about the construction works on the way. She didn’t, so they both arrived at the train station in time to see the empty tracks where their train had been 5 minutes before. Change ticket, pay the difference, go back home and sleep until the next one.

As it turns out, it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Switching from an Accelerat to an Intercity meant we got a table. So, we spent the next ~4 hours playing Spite & Malice (cool American card game). I won at first (beginner’s luck), then started losing; then the guy sitting in the chair across us (who I swear I knew from somewhere… maybe last year’s Artmania fest) joined in and proceeded to kick our ass repeatedly. Luckily we got to Sighisoara before being humiliated too much…

There, my lovely friend Silviu was waiting for us and he gave us (amazing) shelter, then took us to a place which had food (mmm. pasta.) Because it was dark, and sightseeing is difficult if you can’t actually see anything, we proceeded to a bar (then another, then another - they close way too early), where we and his friends got involved in intercultural drinking, jokes, sex tales, swearing, police stories and anything in between.

The next morning, tired and slightly hungover, we got into tourist mode and started a walk around the city. I had only seen it during the medieval festival (read: overcrowded), so it was very weird seeing empty places which last summer were teeming with people. But my conclusion after comparing the two: deserted city is muuch better for tourists than drunken rockers all over the place.

Sighisoara is beautiful. You go from the new town to the old citadel (still inhabited) on a long stairway (not exactly to heaven, but close) and end up in a square. On the right, the Clock Tower, almost no one in sight (cue memories of the throng of people waiting to go up during the festival). So, of course, we started climbing. What I didn’t know is that the tower also contains the museum of history, which had awesome stuff like a model of old Sighisoara, objects from each of the craftsmen’s guilds and - my favorites - a couple of old medical kits (amputation, gynecology, surgery) full of creepy metal things (I was very glad I’m living in the modern age). Climbing further up the narrow stairs, we got to the room of the clock, where you can see the mechanism in action and wonder just how the fuck does it work?

Even further up, you get to the top of the tower and you can enjoy a great view of the city and the cool markers showing the direction and distance to several important cities (and the poles). Towers rock and these German towns seem to have a lot of them.

We walked around some more afterwards, saw the Roman-Catholic church, a couple of new hostels and B&Bs, places undergoing some sort of demolishing/repair work and a lot of adorable little streets (plus a souvenir shop with a very nice saleswoman - last on the left as you’re going towards the staircase, it has some mannequins in front).

Next up, climbing the next set of stairs - this time, the covered staircase (which, as the name implies, is a staircase with a roof). A lady was playing folk music on the stairs, so we had a little entertainment while climbing and discovering exactly how out-of-shape we were. The first thing you see on the hill is a high-school. I’d have skipped many more classes if I had to climb for 5 minutes to get to school… these students should get a medal.

Next to the high-school there’s the Biserica din Deal (the Church on the Hill), which we didn’t visit because we’re not so crazy about churches. What we did see was the cemetery, which was very beautiful. Sad, of course, but very beautiful nonetheless.

After this short interlude with the dead, we stopped in a bar for everyone’s (non-alcoholic, this time) drink of choice, then hurried back to Silviu’s home for a great home-cooked meal from his mother and quick packing + leaving for the train station, as we weren’t planning on missing anymore trains.

Of course, the train was late this time, but about that in part two.

[Read part 2: Sibiu.]

Jen takes care of BlogofRomania and wants to travel as much as possible. Feel free to invite her to visit.
Post written for BlogofRomania.

I’ve been meaning to go to Histria for a few months now; still, I only managed to get there last Sunday. I had visited the ancient ruins about 12 years ago and, since the only vivid memories of that trip were of my father chasing a lizard, I thought it might be time to create fresh new ones. Luckily, the weather was not as windy as predicted, nor was it cloudy (at least, not all the time), so I was able to shoot decent photos, which can be admired at the end of the article (do not scroll down yet, interesting information following!).

Moreover, my classmate’s brother, who currently studies History at the “Ovidius” University in Constanta provided me with some ‘expert’ information regarding the construction of the fortress. One thing he told me concerns the color of Roman bricks, which used to be bright orange, brighter than nowadays actually, which explains why they still look so jolly, despite being about two thousand years old. Also, it seems that the Greeks were very smart fellows, as they would build the citadel walls to resist earthquakes – first came a layer of stone, then 3-5 layers of brick, followed by another layer of stone and so on. Apparently, this system had first been used on the walls of Constantinople, because a wall completely made of stone would have been too sensitive to such extreme phenomena.

Unfortunately, dogs aren’t allowed into the museum, so I had to skip that part, but that didn’t make the trip one bit less enjoyable. So, if you ever get the chance, visit Histria!

Original post: here (RO).
Ela is 18 and very talkative. In fact, she is so talkative many people have told her to shut up. So she started blogging. Now she can ban those who tell her to shut up.

The city always looks dark at sunset. The metal skeletons of the electricity poles try - unsuccessfully - to hide the blood-red disc. The entire horizon is dowsed in the sickly red light and the polluted breath of the city. This doesn’t make me appreciate it any less. It makes me feel powerless in front of a sick man I cannot cure. With each sunset, my city dies a little more. It eats up the dead rays of the sun only to be reborn, even more noisy and full of life, with the next sunrise…

Original post: here.
Dan is a 27 year-old from Bucharest who lives to read, write, take phots and discover the new and the old.

From Bukresh blog:
“John Squier and his partner went on an Eastern European car journey in 1985. These are pictures of Piata Unirii which was demolished a year later in 1986. They stayed at Hanul lui Manuc and the first picture in these series was taken from the window of room 113.”

Click on the link to get a glimpse of the Bucharest of 23 years ago.

If you like vintage photos, check out this impressive collection of old pictures of the town of BraÅŸov. Click on the sample to get to the original post on JustPixel (RO).

The first time I visited Sibiu was a long time ago, so I don’t remember much. However, I was very pleasantly surprised by the way the town made me feel,when I came back to Sibiu in November. I was on a mini-trip after a real team-building with my then-co-workers.

Here are some photos that speak for themselves:

Being from Sibiu, Ciprian knew where to take us. I left with one thought: that I want to see Hermannstadt again as soon as possible.

The return

The opportunity would come sooner than I’d wished, honestly. After conversations that lasted from August til’ mid-December and after B&B owners and friends changed their minds, my gang kind of “split up” and we were forced to find alternate locations for spending New Year’s. Of course, I thought of Sibiu, and after trying to find easier alternatives (read: closer to Bucharest), I tried to find accomodation in Sibiu. After repeated failures, I got lucky after a friend gave me a helpful tip.

And here I was, on Demcember 29, in Sibiu.

Decorated with Christmas lights and a bit of snow, the town lay still and waited for the new year. I was used to the crowd of the capital city, so I thought at first that the locals felt it was simply too cold to go out. I heard too many words with a Bucharest accent, so I concluded that only tourists from Bucharest were walking across the beautiful pavement downtown. Which wasn’t that far from the truth, as you’ll see.

I noticed a couple of really cool things in this town, beside the atmosphere. These people have a lot of respect for the brand. However weird this sounds, it must define the people in Sibiu since it impressed me so much. The town itself benefited from an ad-hoc large-scale branding campaing that was pretty effective, and people who own a restaurant, a product or a service which is active on the local market and has competition have very good promotional materials. The marketing industry is also helped by the high-quality print shops in Sibiu. To quote the tagline of the most preeminent such print shop: “We print you on anything!”…

And speaking of restaurants…

The restaurants

We were received - with warmth you very rarely find in a restaurant in Bucharest, be it fancy or not - in several interesting places.

By far, the best food in Sibiu was, to me, the one in Crama “Sibiul Vechi”, a restaurant I’d known from November and which proved to be a paradise for the food lover (category in which I definitely fit in).

We found an interesting atmosphere and an excellent Irish Coffee in Kulturcafe Sigi, we found pretty good food at Bufniţa Restaurent, but the pleasant surprise came from the only real chocolaterie in Sibiu, Bur Chocolat. Belgian chocolate of the highest quality and an intimate space to savour it in, in case you want to try the pralines on the spot or taste some hot chocolate (100 mg was enough for me, it was that sweet!). The owner received us in the dining room with a glass of mulled wine on the house a couple of hours before the passage between the years, as he saw we were all frozen from the cold. We got to talking, and he told us how much he liked it in Sibiu. He had moved there a few months ago, from Bucharest. For good. An initiative I only now understand perfectly, after my friend Aurelian has decided to try the same thing this year.

I’m sure there are a lot of other good restaurants I didn’t get the opportunity to see, so please give me some tips!

Original post: here (RO).
Viorel is a web developer, has been coding for 8 years and making a living out of it for two. He’s been playing around with a D80 for a year and with cameras in general for 4. He is interested in marketing, branding and image.

…being surrounded by fog, a few meters above the earth, clueless about where you are heading. What goes on in your head?

BorÅŸa was a beautiful place to visit, since it made me reflect upon some personal issues. The thick mist reminded me of ‘Bleak House’, while also making me think about Hell. Yes, for a moment there, I thought that is how Hell must feel like: freezing. And this comes from a person who usually loves cold and fog and, generally speaking, gloomy stuff. Anyhow, it was an incredible experience, the walking and the climbing and the snowflakes which made my hair look as if I was born during World War One. Note to self: if you ever learn to ski properly, go back to BorÅŸa.

Gastronomically speaking, the place was not a bit less surprising than the rest of Maramures county (in Sighetu-Marmatiei the pork-brain sauce, liver and dill seemed to be pretty common pizza toppings): pork fries were high up there in the menu. And, although apparently they’re actually tasty, I didn’t have the “balls” to try them.

Finally, as I was saying, the place made me think a lot. I thought about mistakes, about sins, about regrets. And this is what I tried to express through the pictures I took. A place so beautiful and so quiet I felt even the slightest sound I would make could harm its exceptional beauty.

(Click to enlarge)

Original post: here (RO).
Ela is 18 and very talkative. In fact, she is so talkative many people have told her to shut up. So she started blogging. Now she can ban those who tell her to shut up.

I recently found a great set of photos of IaÅŸi from Bogdan Todireanu. They were taken as a test for a new camera, but nonetheless they show a beautiful view of the Palace of Culture at night.

Click on the photos to get to the original post, where you can see many more.