Romania
Benji’s musings on Romania 5 months out…
I was walking the other day in ‘Le jardin des tuileries’ between le Louvre and les champs Elysees in Paris. Just ahead in bright blue tracksuits reminiscent of the 1978 olympic games team, a Romanian team of KQRCE (I have absolutley no idea) were walking in the same direction. All of a sudden a pigeon swooped down at about head height from the side, just in front of a young romanian about 20. As it did, he made a quick, sudden snatch at it with both hands, and I could only laugh.
Two things went through my head at this time.
1- What was he going to do with it if he actually caught it?? Start smacking it on the ground and bite lumps out of ‘the rat of the sky’.
And 2- What does this say about living conditions in Romania if a bird flies in front of you, and by absolute pure instinct, without hesitation, you think “mmm… FOOD!!!”.
Sure, the French eat small birds we’d usually keep as pets, but even they have their limits.
I can’t wait to eat pigeon in Romania.
Breaking through the Iron curtain.
Bulgaria- where did this country come from? Once a mystical country where Eva of Sports Café fame came from , we were excited about seeing this ex soviet bloc state. For us, Bulgaria came with Ladas and cars made from recycled cardboard, women resembled characters from ‘Meet the Feebles’ who were a little frumpy with large pointy noses, food was boiled cabbage and donkey sausage, and home appliances would be large grey boxes from the 1950’s. How we were wrong! This place is fantastic! Beers at 1 euro, friendly beautiful women everywhere (no… not that kind of friendly), and a warm dry climate make this our favourite place so far.
Eva the Bulgarian, a ‘presenter’ from NZ’s ‘Sport’s Cafe’ TV show. She didn’t like sports and could hardly speak English, but she was hot!
Although the beers were ridiculously cheap, and the waitress at the bar just below our hostel ‘very friendly’, a quick walking tour was enough for us in the capital Sofia. North we headed to the old Bulgarian capital- Veliko Tarnovo. Having heard stories of corruption and bribery about the back country (and the number of 25 year olds driving 7 series BMWs in Sofia confirmed something was awry) we were a little apprehensive. But how we were wrong (again)! Perched on the top of a valley with the river flowing below, and mountains above- Veliko Tarnovo was real Bulgaria. Meeting up at the hostel with some Aussies, an Englishman, a Canadian, a Luxembougeois and a Welshman nicknamed Jesus- this was real travelling; 7 nations around a table outside, hidden away in a valley in Bulgaria, sharing some beers and having a laugh.
The Verliko Tarnovo Bell Tower lightshow… watch out- soviet lasers!
That night’s entertainment, we were explained, was a hill fort above the city that arranged a music and light show most summer evenings. We were intrigued! As much as we loved Bulgaria, it was still coming out of the Soviet era and hadn’t struck us as the most advanced country. We arrived around 9pm, looking on a dark mound in the distance. There was a spark somewhere, and then we saw what was hidden- A large compound with a small belltower at the top, a lot of grass and hill, and then a massive stone wall below. Max commented that they must have built the wall first, then said ‘shit- we’ve run out of money!’ Coloured lights and powerful lasers whizzed around. We covered our eyes; the lasers were probably from an ex soviet space program.
Still curious about Romania, we headed north and got a good taste of Bulgarian trains. An hour late in Bulgaria, three in Romania, and a carriage that reeked of… umm… urine. Two student Finns even slept on the floor outside these toilets. Not quite the TGV.
Like all good Kiwis, what do you do on a Saturday morning the moment you arrive in Bucharest?? Go to an Irish pub and watch the All Blacks vs the Springboks. We lost, so had another pint. Like all good travelling stories, we met an Australian women living there who recommended a small town in Transylvania- SHigi.. sigi shwa…..shaggysu… Sighisoara!! Imagine living there, being called Sammy Smith, and having a lis(h)p!
Bucharest just wasn’t doing it for us. So another 5 hour train ride north into the depths of Transylvania brought us to Sighisoara- the birth place of Vlad Dracul- the inspiration for Bram Stroker’s Dracula! And my, how many tourists were on the same pilgrimage as us to see any remnants of ‘The Dragon’? In a huge valley covered in green bush all around, we climbed up to the medieval village and the fairly innocuous house where he was born. Some of the stories we heard portrayed him as being a great Romanian leader and prince, others as an allergic-to-the-sun torture-loving psycho. We preferred the psycho stories. Apparently Old Drac used to drive a stake through the spinal column of his worst enemies, putting them under the most pain as possible while they lived for the next 48 hours. Also, according to the legend, he put the stakes on the hill just below his castle so he could hear them suffer. We wanted more, so that night went up to the cemetery above his native village, hidden away in some bush. Let’s just say things got a little strange… The video will be available soon.
Sighisoara…. the birthplace of Dracula?
Shaiigy… Saggy…Sighisoara was a great way to see some of the old Romania before Ceausescu got his hands on it. Peasant families passed in the streets in carts towed by donkeys, huge Transylvanian houses were left abandoned, and the beautiful green valley seemed untouched. Scared out of Sighsoara, we headed back down to Bucharest to take a closer look how ex ruler Nicolae Ceausescu literally scarred his signature on the capital.
The Peoples Palace, (although the people weren’t actually allowed to visit until he was overthrown and killed) now called the Palace of Parliament, is claimed to be the second largest building in the world behind the Pentagon in the US of A. Mark and I can vouch for its size- we walked for 45 minutes around the perimeter just to find the low-key entrance. Old Nicolae was obsessed with France and Paris, wanting to create his ‘Paris’ in Romania. Street signs seemed very similar to what we saw in France, but he even tried to build his own champs Elysees- a huge fountain lined boulevard leading right up to the Palace entrance. Construction was… dubious to say the least. One fifth of the city was destroyed in 1983 to allow for this Commy beast, 10% is still unfinished, workers were mostly unemployed, soldiers, students, or just not even payed. Most of the materials, marble, walnut and gold were just ‘taken’ from the countryside. Ahh communism… everything is everyone’s!
Our tour was a bit of a rushed affair- we were only given 45 minutes to visit 15% of the world’s largest administration building.. We climbed the massive marble stairs lined with 5m tall velvet and gold trimmed curtains, passed through a massive wood trimmed boardroom and out onto the marble balcony where ironically Nicolae never got the chance to look out on Bucharest. Michael Jackson is the only person to have held an official address from the terrace, where he famously yelled ‘Hello Budpapest!’ (Hungary’s capital). Opps. To be honest we found it a stunning achievement if not a little…mmm… kitch.
Pushed out after our rapid tour, we could only reflect on what could have been! It all seemed like they had tried to build the world’s most beautiful palace with Yugo the local village DIY handyman and his prepubescent lackeys. Cheap air-conditioning units hung from column framed windows; there were holes in some of the marble stairs; the beautiful green expansive lawn was scared by a huge power box spilling out wires topped off with a pile rotting grass cuttings adorning its centre. We wondered whether the 70 architects that worked on the project had actually been to Paris, or they had just seen some postcards and used these blueprints.
Back to Bulgaria on our way south-east to Istanbul we stopped off in Plovdiv for some R & R along with the most impressive roman theatre we’d ever seen, and amazing cuisine most nights at a local restaurant for less than 5 euro each. This sparked a little quiz sitting on the filthy platform, trying to read the nightmare that is Cyrillic, while waiting for the train down to Turkey. Most beautiful women in the world? BULGARIA! Cheapest beers in Europe: BULGARIA! Best donkey sausage in the world? BULGARIA! And as our train turned up at 1:15 in the morning, 3 hours 15 minutes late. Worst trains so far? BULGARIA!
With a lot of time for reflection on our 11 hour train ride to the only city in the world spanning two continents, and with our last Bulgarian train ride nearly behind us, we were poised for hot steaming Turkish baths, belly dancers, kebab and endless Turkish Delight. We were just starting to dream of the wonders of Turkey as the pungent smell of the train toilets took hold of our consciousness and we past out for one final sleep in beautiful Bulgaria.
