When I told friends and family that I was going to be traveling to Romania in September 2018, the most popular response I received was “WHY?”
I could understand their point of view: Romania isn’t a tropical island, it’s rarely on any must-see compilation lists, and the press coverage these last few decades haven’t been exactly…uplifting…to say the least.
But if you know anything about me and my philosophy, you know that I’ll find adventures everywhere I go…and the time I spent in Romania has left a lasting impression on my life. I loved every minute of time spent in that country: driving through the Carpathians, castle-hopping through Transylvania, and discovering the street art and history of Bucharest.
I’ve written quite a few posts from my Romanian adventures, but there are still so many stories to tell, random thoughts and impressions to share, and pictures to display…but not every single one deserves its own post.
I present to you my roundup of random stories from traveling around Romania, in no particular order. I hope you enjoy!
While checking out the famous Black Church in Brasov, biding time until the organ concert started, my friend Nikki pointed out some interesting marks on the side of the building. Apparently sturdy buildings like churches were used as sword-sharpening stations for residents.
Just let that sink in. Construction started in the late 1300s. How old do you think those marks are? How many men sharpened their swords since then? What in the world would happen if someone tried to do this today?
During one of my people-watching sessions, I started to notice that a lot of women were wearing nylons. Women in their 20s. Grandmas. There seemed to be no age bracket. And not just when they were wearing skirts. I also noticed that a lot of women would wear the nylons with pants, jeans and slacks alike. And not only that, but they would wear socks over the nylons and running shoes.
I bring this up not to poke fun at anyone (you’ll also notice how I didn’t take any pictures of these examples), but to point out a cultural difference. I have no idea if there was something particular about those women or if they were Roma, superstitious, cold, or trying to hold onto a cultural heritage. No clue. Just something interesting I noticed.
During our road trip through Transylvania, Nikki and I would find ourselves on beautiful country roads, winding around soft rolling hills, creeping upon sleepy towns with the occasional fortress dotting the advantageous hilltops. We’d roll the windows down to take it all in…and then quickly roll them back up. What was that awful smell??
Our eyes would water and we’d see billowing smoke coming from the farms. Apparently trash-burning was still practiced out in the country. And it smelled SO BAD! Here we were in this almost idyllic countryside, only to have the daydream crushed by the putrid smell of burning garbage.
After taking the free walking tour of Bucharest, I found my way over to Cișmigiu Park. I sat on a bench watching some birds land in the pond, when suddenly I began to hear voices on a megaphone. And horns. Lots of voices.
What was happening?
Curiosity got the best of me, so I followed the noise as it got louder and louder. And I wasn’t the only one. Apparently a ton of people in the park were heading the same direction. Was it a riot? No, there were a bunch of kids in the group…
I found my way to a crowded street, filled with cyclists, all honking their horns, bells ringing, whistles blowing. Every now and then another person taking pictures. As I started walking down into the crowd, I started to hear chanting…but thankfully not angry chanting. Well, honestly I had no idea what they were saying since I don’t speak Romanian…they could have been reciting poetry for all I knew.
Then, an aggressively loud horn sounded. Multiple times. And, as one, the entire mass of hundreds of cyclists took off down the street, horns honking. It was definitely a sight to see.
Ask anyone who has driven around Eastern Europe what it’s like, and you’ll be met with horrified wide eyes, a quickened heart rate, and the overall look of someone who has faced death multiple times. Driving around Eastern Europe is not for the faint of heart.
Bucharest was to be our final stop during our Romanian road trip. Even before Nikki and I arrived in the capital city, I knew that it was going to be challenging. Driving around the small towns and villages in Transylvania had been enough to open my eyes to the complete lack of regulations and awareness of others that my fellow drivers had.
My worst fear the entire time we were driving around Romania was arriving in Bucharest at night. I knew from experience that big-city driving is a lot easier the first go-around during the day. Plus, I knew how crazy it was when we first got our rental car at the airport.
And of course, despite my heavy foot, we managed to tear into Bucharest after the sun had already set. As we got closer and closer to our off-ramp, the sky grew darker and darker. I became increasingly nervous, although having Nikki by my side helped to calm me down.
As we made our way onto the surface streets in Bucharest, I became increasingly aware that my attention to things like other drivers, lanes, and speed limits gave away my American-ness.
I pulled up to make a left turn at an intersection…and 2 other cars pulled right next to me, so that all 3 of us turned left at the same time!
I knew that traffic circles were more prevalent in Europe, but I had no idea how many of them I’d have to drive through in order to get to Nikki’s place. There were times when 3 such traffic circles were stacked on top of each other, almost like a skiwampus snowman.
Let’s just say that I was ever so grateful when I scored a parking spot close to where we needed to be. I finally took my hands away from the 10-and-2 position, looked at Nikki and said that I’d never been more freaked out driving…which is saying a lot!
The next morning as I walked to the subway station, I finally got a good look at the madness that I navigated…and said a quick prayer in gratitude for my friend being able to get me through that mess!
After driving the Transfagarasan Highway, Nikki and I stopped for lunch at the first place we saw (even though we had chimney cakes at Bâlea Lake, we were starving!). As we drove closer to what would be our restaurant for the evening, we noticed a large group of vendor stalls set up on the side of the road…but didn’t think too much of it.
We pulled into Pensiunea La Cetate, a cute little roadside inn with an attached restaurant. We were seated outside and had a wonderful view of the forest and watched the cars creep by. Trying to ignore the extremely rude American tourists that were seated close by (seriously, I was finally able to see how obnoxious some Americans can be), I happened to glance up towards the top of the hill right next to us.
Next to an imposing fortress was a large Romanian flag, something that I wasn’t particularly accustomed to seeing. In the back of my mind, I started to piece together where we were. Carpathian mountains. Huge fortress. Wait, this couldn’t be…
Yup. A quick Google search confirmed that we were dining in the shadow of Poenari Fortress – the true castle connected to Vlad the Impaler. While he wasn’t born here, Vlad Țepeș was said to have consolidated and refortified the structure, making it one of his main fortresses during the 15th century. So even though we didn’t go up to it, I can hold my head up high and say that I have not only been to “Dracula’s Castle,” I’ve actually seen the true castle.
I can now honestly say that I’ve picked up hitchhikers in Hawaii, the USVI, and Romania. Just use your intuition. People are decent.
When people were offering me their opinions of what to eat while in Romania, one of the more popular items that kept coming up was Papanași (pop-uh-NOSH)…so Nikki and I made it our mission to find the best Papanași.
Papanași is a fried pastry like a donut with a little ball on top, almost like a little button, and served with sour cream and a sour jam.
I know what you’re thinking: sour cream on a pastry? Gross! But actually sour cream in Romania is just that – good cream with a little bit of a kick so it’s not overly-sweet. I could honestly eat it straight and it quickly became my favorite part of the Papanași. A serving of Papanași usually comes with 2 pastries, each larger than the size of a softball…which made it really easy for Nikki and I to share an order.
My favorite Papanași can be found at Restaurantul Dobrun in Sibiu!
After Nikki and I drove the Transfagarasan Highway, we headed towards Bucharest and her place. We came upon the small town of Argeș, where we had to stop for a little Romanian-style traffic jam…
After a long day of wandering around Bucharest, taking a free walking tour, and following Pinterest and Instagram through the #ExperienceBucharest movement, I started my journey back to the subway station that would take me back to Nikki’s place.
As I made my way back in the dark, I started to hear loud classical music and thousands of feet pounding the pavement. Once again, curiosity got the better of me and I followed the noise. I found myself heading back towards Piața Unirii, the park where I met the free walking tour group.
A dark sea of black silhouettes blanketed my view of the famous fountains…when suddenly the sky suddenly erupted with color and opera. I was finally close enough to recognize Andrea Bocelli’s voice and “Time to Say Goodbye” in Italian. The fountains were dancing with light, keeping time with the music.
Even though I’m not always impressed with fountain shows, and even though there were swarms of people jostling for good position with kids on their shoulders and cell phones above their heads, there was something magical in the air.
Not a bad way to celebrate Bucharest Days!
When you’re driving in Europe, you tend to notice that smaller, compact cars are the norm. Rarely do you see an American-sized vehicle on the roads. Seeing an SUV, pickup, or even a larger-sized sedan are always exciting and a novelty.
I don’t remember exactly where we were, but while driving around Romania, Nikki and I came across a dually truck with an Arizona license plate. Yup. That happened.
If you type “Romania” into Google Images, the first image that pulls up is Peleș (PEL-esh) Castle. Built in the late 1800s for Romania’s first king, Carol I from Germany, Peleș served as a hunting lodge in the Carpathian mountains and is now considered a national monument.
I couldn’t wait to visit Peleș. The German neo-classical architecture style is as stunning to look at in real life as Pinterest!
Nikki and I realized that we’d be visiting an extremely popular tourist attraction, so we decided to arrive early enough to hopefully avoid super-busy lines. Unfortunately, we didn’t count on Peleș opening later in the day when we would be touring, giving the gobs of tourists and tour busses ample time to get their people to the castle.
We wandered around the ornate grounds, hoping to allow time to pass and the massive tour groups to get into the castle before we did. Nope. The lines just grew and moved at a glacial pace, so I hopped in the English-speaking line.
After waiting in line for almost 90 minutes, I finally got to put on the little booties and enter the castle. It. Was. Stunning. There wasn’t a spot of wall that hadn’t been manipulated in some way. Tapestries hung on every wall. The chandeliers cost more that I can imagine. The windows. The staircases. The rugs. The chairs. I was on sensory-overload…and then I realized I couldn’t hear the tour guide and would have been just fine if I took the Romanian-speaking guide. Ah, C’est la vie.
Insider tip: if you’re going to be visiting Peleș, do yourself a favor and hop in the Romanian-speaking tour line – it’ll move faster and you can’t hear the English guide anyway. Might as well save some time. Plus, there are signs in English along the way, explaining the rooms and other points of interest!
I love talking about my random stories from Romania, since they truly ARE random! Did you enjoy them?
Sharing is caring! Please show some love by sharing on Pinterest, Facebook or Instagram! Thank you!
PIN ME
