Part
Two
From Râșnov our vans took us to Bran Castle
where the real Vlad Tepes, after being captured by the Hungarian King in 1462, was
imprisoned for a month or two. Built in
1377, this castle and its infamous visitor, Vlad the Impaler, were likely the
model from which Bran Stoker took his fictional Dracula. The castle was illustrated in a book by
Charles Boner and printed in Britain in 1865.
Bran Stoker had a copy of that publication.
Bram Stoker’s Dracula, and other books, films,
and plays which have resulted from that character, have made Bran Castle one of
the most visited tourist sites in Transylvania.
Today, a rather large market has sprung up in the nearby village on its
eastern side. This Romanian style shopping
area was not in existence when we last visited Bran Castle in 2004. It has many items hand-made in Romania. Fur hats, jackets and coats, linen table
cloths and runners, embroidered cloth, old coins, watches, scarves, leather and
fur gloves, wooden trick boxes, and weaving made from cloth, straw or rattan
are available. This time, there were even
items with ‘Dracula’, ‘Transylvania’, and ‘Bran Castle’ written, sewn, or printed
on ‘T’ shirts, sweat shirts and ball caps. Those had been unheard of in 2004.
Bran Castle sits on a high ridge and a
visitor has to walk up a rather steep incline to get to the gate house or old
customs house. From there, a single set
of long, stone steps lead to the castle’s door.
There is no moat, draw-bridge or spacious court yard for a horse or
carriage. Those additions were the
fictional creation found in Bram Stoker’s book, Dracula. Bran Castle was a
defensive structure and has only one way in, the massive double oak doors with
their ornate, giant knockers.
The castle was built for the royal family in
the late 14th Century. Each room
has a ceramic fireplace, most have their original furniture, and they give you
a glimpse of how the wealthy once lived.
Amazingly, thieves managed to steal the king and queen’s ebony-wood, four-poster
bed. In 2004, that ornate bed was still
in the King’s bedroom. I took a number
of close-up photos of the intricate carvings in its head and base boards. Its canopy was of similar wood and had rich
patterns carved into the beams. The
replacement bed is just a plain-Jane king-size bed, its frame stained in a dark
shade to simulate aged wood.
Without doubt, to ‘steal’ such a massive
piece of furniture took inside cooperation. It would have been an awkward item to
carry down the very narrow winding passages and stairs. My guess is that it was partially
disassembled and then lowered out the window to awaiting arms where it vanished
into the night, post-haste. My pictures
from 2004, if I ever dig them out, should help trace it to its new owner. My images have better detail than those rather
bland images currently posted in the king’s bedroom.
Most of us still had ski points on our ski
passes and these points can be carried over until they are used up. This permits you to ski a few hours each day
and still tour the towns nearby. Some of
us went back up the mountain for a lovely stroll and lunch. Others put their skis back on and spent the
day in the snow and the sun.
On January 15th we departed Poiana
Brasov for Sinaia and their high alpine ski region. From
Transylvania, we crossed into the neighbouring province of Wallachia, a trip of
just under an hour. Romania and its
countryside are breathtaking.
Thankfully, the trip was run in broad daylight, reducing the speed our
vans were able to accomplish. This
provided a chance to enjoy the ride while seeing a part of the region.
Vila Wendy (spelled with one ‘L’) was right
in the heart of the city, and we had rented all three floors. The boys, Dave, Peter and Trevor, took to bottom
level. Tam, Shelley, Nathalie, and
Katherine took the 2nd floor while Bruce, Shannon, and I took the
top floor.
Aged, but very well maintained, each
apartment at Vila Wendy had modern facilities and was well stocked. Water bottles and juices were in the fridges,
bread and butter on the counters, and fresh fruits in baskets on the
table. No one other than guests lived in
the villa and the employees, who greeted us and left every afternoon, did not
speak a word of English, German or French, the three languages members of our
group spoke. This only became a problem
when we needed supplies or tried to pay for the accommodation.
Yes, this is Romania, and I had been here in
2004. I knew that businesses in many
small towns do not take credit cards or foreign money. The only currency is often the Romanian
lei. Our ski club had made arrangements and had sent
the funds via a CIBC bank transfer to the Transylvania Bank in Sinaia. Unfortunately, we were told, it never
arrived.
This put me in a bit of a quandary as I had
to extract over 7,600 Lei from the local ATM machines. Some had a maximum of 200 Lei, and I found
one which handed out 2,000 a day. In the
end, I had the cash and I did not get hung, drawn, and quartered by the local
thugs…speaking of which, the local security company in Sinaia is called ‘Thug
Security’. I believed Trevor took a
picture of the vehicle with its logo.
Sinaia is the city where Romanian royalty
resided during the long, cold winter months.
Most of the homes are stately villas, albeit in dire need of
repair.
The villa next door was where
the crown prince secretly met his young mistress on more than one occasion. It’s for sale and at 5,000,000 Euros—a steal
with its rich and royal past.
Almost
each house in Sinaia has its own name and there is a great book, translated to
English, which gives the history of the two railway stations, the town, the
famous monastery, the hotels, and many of the homes.
Across from our villa lay a beautiful park
with an ice skating rink, Christmas decorations, and one of the oldest hotels in
the city. Covered in snow when we arrived,
well over a foot of new snow blanketed the walkways and paths of the park the
following day. This snow storm continued
for several more days, luckily most descended overnight and it was sunny each
morning.
For the skiers, the deep snow shut down the
lifts. These remained closed until they shoveled their way in and out. For the
wandering, inquisitive tourist, it was fantastic. Yet, Nathalie was out the door early, traveled easily on her own, and often got in a day of skiing as well as
meeting us in town for dinner.
There are few things as beautiful,
refreshing, or enjoyable as a bright new day with lovely sunshine, deep fresh
snow, and crisp cold mountain air. That
first day, we took the opportunity to tour the city from one end to the
other—beautiful!
The following day we hiked up to Peles
Castle. Once there, we paid the entrance
fee and spent a few hours inside a palace built by King Karl I for his wife. It is the first castle ever built which had electricity,
a built in vacuum, and a stained-glass, retractable roof. The original generator still powers the
castle, the Crown Prince’s villa next door, and the nearby medieval
village. What a majestic day that was.
The next morning, new snow again greeted
us. It erased any idea of taking the
effort to go up the mountain and ski. There
are actually two different ski operators on one mountain in Sinaia’s ski
region. It may seem a little confusing,
but it’s not much different from the old days when Blackcomb opened at
Whistler. Yet, in BC each company had
their own mountain. At Sinaia, the better
of the two ski region’s lifts are only reachable by taxi or bus. The older company has its gondola base right
in Sinaia, but they only offer one high-alpine lift. As a result, we opted to hike up to the
historic Monestary. The pictures speak
for themselves; the scenery was spectacular. 
Sinaia with fresh snow on the ground is
incredible; it’s a visitor’s winter paradise.
They still have gas lights operating in the park at night, each post individually
decorated for Christmas. The fountain,
covered from the elements, is lighted and had decorations surrounding its
circular form. Music played on outdoor
speakers, and locals took their families on strolls or onto the ice rink. The
whole town is reminiscent of Dickens’ 19th Century London in a much
smaller scale.
We found many small bars and restaurants in
Sinaia. We were often drawn into these quaint
establishments to seek warmth, lunch, drinks, and later dinner. We even found an Indian restaurant right in
the downtown core. 
A British bar, Old
Nick’s, became our meeting place after lunch, and we had more than a few pints to
quench our thirst.
I even found a kiosk on
the main road with a lady who not only spoke and understood English, but she
had a brother who lives in Toronto, Canada.
At her kiosk, a cold beer was 1 Lei or about 30 cents (3 Lei to 1 Canadian
dollar), but you had to stand outside near her window to keep warm. Yet, the narrow lane had local items for sale
on hooks tucked into the niches of the stone walls and I could look these over
while I enjoying the conversation and beer.
Not known to be succinct; I had more than one beer at her outlet. I assure you, the beer were ice cold!
I dropped my book, The Curse of The Red Crystal, off at two local book shops. I
was wearing my red ski vest with Canada written in large white letters
on its back. In one store, I met an older fellow who spoke
to me in clear but extremely awkward words of English. Without elaborating while in the store, he spoke
to the book shop’s owner in Romanian. He
had offered to personally take me to the main post office for stamps. He had noted the post cards I had just
purchased. Apparently, it was a short
walk from the book store.
This trip took me off the main tourist road and
into a more deserted area where the locals live and shop. It reminded me of the Romania I recall seeing
in 2004; little seems to have changed. People
kept to themselves or peered out a door or window at strangers who happen to
pass by. The few people on the street
noted my chaperone, and stayed where they were, not coming over to take a
closer look. Even with the older fellow
at my side, I did not linger to take too many pictures. I had the odd feeling I was an intruder and we
moved on.
Once away from the store and out of earshot
of others, this white-haired man told me how wonderful it was to meet a Canadian
or anyone from the West who spoke English.
During communism and later the terrible dictatorship, English was strictly
forbidden. To avoid torture or
imprisonment, he had not spoken one word for over 30 years. To him it was important that no one in Sinaia
even thought he spoke fluent English.
“When I was young, it was different,” he said
in a quiet but jovial voice. “We learned
English in school and Romania was a modern country embracing technology. Even during the war, we could speak
English. Then, the Soviets came and you
could be sent to prison as a spy; under Comrade Nicolae, it was torture and
death, so I never spoke another word of English.”
In the post office, the older fellow only
spoke Romanian but an Orthodox priest, to whom I had just been introduced,
spoke in broken English. Asking what I
needed, he helped me buy the stamps. My
host feigned ignorance of English and simply smiled at me while nodding his
head. We had an understanding that he
wished to keep his secret to himself. I
bade them all god’s good grace, and headed back up the steep hill to the main
road in good spirits. The priest came
out of the post office and kept an eye out.
Several times I turned, took a photograph, and waved back. Then, he was gone and I found myself back on
the main road.
Day after day, the new snow fell. Shannon and I took photographs or looked for
geo-cashes. Bruce went out and fed his leftovers to the local dogs.
Peter,
Trevor and Dave found a lovely breakfast cafe, trudged through the deep snow
drifts, fell in love with the waitress, and never missed their morning stroll
or coffee.
Tam, Katherine, and Shelley followed Peter up and down all the hills and tails joining in on the many sightseeing events.
Peter,
Trevor and Dave found a lovely breakfast cafe, trudged through the deep snow
drifts, fell in love with the waitress, and never missed their morning stroll
or coffee. Tam, Katherine, and Shelley followed Peter up and down all the hills and tails joining in on the many sightseeing events.
One of those journeys, we went to the Casino
Sinaia where we paid for a tour. The
Casino was once an opulent structure and an operational gambling facility.
It was shut down a few years after the
Soviets took over. Later, it was used to
harbour displaced communists fighting western oppression. These refugees
paid their Romanian hosts back by tearing up the inlaid wood floors and breaking
down the furniture as well as many of the inner doors. These pieces were thrown into the large
fireplaces making the need to go out and gather wood (like the locals)
redundant. When they left, only the
walls were standing. Our guide explained
that, basically, it had been gutted.
Their infamous dictator, Nicolae Ceausescu, later
used the casino as his winter office and some repairs were made. His wife had an office and an apartment
across from his. Her part of the second floor of the casino was lavishly decorated in her own style.
Ceausescu often called his inner circle to Sinaia for meetings where he often handed out brutal discipline.
Ceausescu often called his inner circle to Sinaia for meetings where he often handed out brutal discipline.
“Those ministers,” our guide remarked, “had
to sweat it out in the small foyer next to his grand office.”
I was in the Capitolo in Havana, Cuba and sat in Fidel Castro’s chair. I saw no reason not to sit in Ceausescu’s
chair as well. I must say, Fidel had a
more lavish office with a table clock carved out of solid gold and a better
chair.
On our fourth day, the snow suddenly
stopped. Tam, Shelley and I put our ski
clothes on and grabbed their skis, poles, and boots. Then, we caught a taxi which took us up the mountain. Tam and Shelly had all their gear with them
and were going to get ski passes.
I went
to rent boots, skis and poles in a small rental shop. Luckily, it was quite busy and it took a while
before I found a seat and tried on several pairs of boots. I had just taken out the equivalent of $50.00
and had the bill in hand when Shelley popped in and told me the high winds had
just shut down the ski lifts on the upper part of the mountain. The gondola was still running but there would be no skiing that day. The rental shop owner tried to sell me the
package saying I could come back the following day.
“Just pay for the equipment and we will store
it all here for you. You save time and
do not need to wait in line.” The owner
suggested. Not being a fool, I kept that
cash in my pocket.
Slightly
saddened by having the high-alpine lifts closed for another day, we walked down
to the bus loop. Sinaia has the same
great bus service as Delta, British Columbia. Their buses
run each hour, and we had just missed one.
It was not the same service as that which is provided the skiing
public at Poiana Brasov, Transylvania. There, the longest wait time is
30 minutes. We called the same taxi driver who had just brought us to
the mountain, and he picked us up three minutes later. 
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