Herăstrău Park, one of the best places to visit in Bucharest

People have it worse than I – it is such an effective way of  making people feel better about their own situation, that it has weaved its way into the gene pool of our complicated society. It is at the root of the city v. village mocking, the East v West… it is used as a parenting tactic what is wrong with your purple sausage and green mush dinner?! There are children dying of hunger in… It inspires songs, for goodness sake:

Stay with me.

What does that have to do with Romania? Well, Romania was one of our feel good Balkan neighbors, Albania being the other.  We may have been squished under the iron fist of communism, but they had it worse. They had Ceausescu! – ahhhs and gasps fill the air.  We may have been poor, but they were that little bit more in lack of money. And this was the extent of my knowledge really. I am guessing any more might have threaten to pop the bubble of feel good we were bouncing on. And if you knew how bad life was in Bulgaria before I left, you will be awe struck by the low expectations I had for the country.

Romania is beautiful. The whole of Transylvania is filled not with concrete jungles amidst abandoned crumbling statues, but with views like that:

St.Nicholas church and cemetery in Brasov

Development following years of communism has not ruined the charm of the old cities. Nothing is over commercial yet, at least after you go out of Bucharest.

Rooftops of hilly Sibiu

The Carpathians are a balm for the eyes, be it on a rainy day or through the warm blanket of the shining sun.

There are plenty of things to see.

Old and new churches, intricate architecture, magnificent castles or imposing forts, lush green parks for the children to play in, mountains and hills to climb or peaceful squares surrounded by colorful buildings and rustling under the sound of a fountain, it is all here.

Piaţa Unirii in Timisoara

And yet, we left underwhelmed.

I was not sure if our feelings were a bit bias after spending almost 3 months in Bulgaria, where I speak the language, know the customs and were surrounded by friends. But the moment we stepped into Serbia and walked a little bit through Belgrade, we knew it was not a fluke.

I found in Romania everything that I did not expect, but it failed to satisfy the basic needs of my traveling soul. It felt distant. Villages seemed empty behind closed doors. There is no street food or cafe culture outside of the fancy cafe’s  selling overpriced fare.  Places turn into ghost towns as soon as you venture a little bit away from the central square, housing the expensive establishments I mentioned.  Elderly people must be locked behind those village doors, because you don’t see many of them around.

I am sure there is life in Romania, we had the good fortune of being guests in a house that was buzzing with it. We have also managed to chat with a few of the locals, who seem full of it. But it is not easy to access. Life is hidden it seems and that left me wanting. I left without really feeling what Romania is, because it is not architecture and views that define a culture and people.

We loved all the Saxon buildings and the beautiful nature of Transylvania.  We consumed too many of the delightful Romanian covrigi, which is not your average round bread, it has a sweet tasting crunch outside with fluffy innards that leave you wanting more.

And the only other staple you can find on the streets kurtos, which is dough rolled on a fat stick and baked like that. It comes with different toppings – caramel, sugar, nuts, cocoa and without. It is delicious, but expensive for what it is – super hollow bread that disappears in a split second (around $4-5)

The squares in the towns are fun, although on a hot day you need to find cooling tactics, as trees are rare.

Sibiu

The mountains? Magnificent even when they are just a background to a drive to your next destination.

And we loved the sleepy eyes that followed us around in Sibiu.

So what can Romania do to keep travelers like us happy?

At least fix the salads. After Bulgaria’s huge generous and cheap salads, the local offerings seemed like a horrible mistake. For the same price that you will get a bowl of  shopska in its Southern neighbor, in Romania you will consistently be served half a tomato and almost a quarter of a cucumber and it will be called a salad.

We just passed through joked about the salads and left, but I cannot stop the nagging feeling that behind the beautiful facade, life in Romania is not as picturesque. Economically it is definitely not the straggler that it used to be, but maybe all the years of hardship have left some mark on its people that is hard to grasp. Maybe they are just more private people. Maybe I am just leaning on old habits and seeing it as worse off, but in a new area.

Only this time it is not making me happier.

Thank you Romania and all the best.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | Still a monologue | Add to del.icio.us
Romania Post tags: brasov, bucharest, sibiu, timisoara

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“Oh, it is wonderful! I am a big Dracula fan and it was great!” – her wrinkled lips extended into a wide smile, as she stepped around in those black sparkly boots of hers. We saw them the night before, glistening in the dark underneath her slim body. I don’t even know how we got to chatting, but we found out that she is from the States, traveling with her friend and both of their husbands died from smoking. She was lovely, reminding me of a Californian style grandma, long blond hair, loud and full of energy.

“We heard that there is not a whole lot of Dracula stuff there” – Mr.Blab said questioning, but I felt the disappointment comment in his voice.

“No, no! There is. It is great!” – and she was off with her equally blond traveling friend, hurrying to finish their 3 week journey around Europe.

We were here not because of the famous story, but because this is supposed to be a worthwhile visit and it was very close to our last stop. So far I was not impressed. The castle looked ordinary from the road and instead of the perched amidst lavish forests location, an impression left by the skilled photographers hired to promote it, it is on a small hill above the town that services all the visitors around.

Somewhat less enthusiastic we moved on. Trinket sellers lined up the path to the entrance. There was nothing blood thirsty about them – wood masks, embroidered clothes and textiles, scarves and whatnot. Romanian things, I guess. Thankfully unlike in Asia, here vendors keep to themselves and the walk was a lot less stressful. We passed a badly made house of screams on the left, the only vampire item so far.

As soon as we passed the gates to the Bran Castle, things changed. It was beautiful. Rich green sprawled all around reaching the huddled up village houses in the distance and surrounding the calm ponds. The kids ran up the stone ramp, while I was still trying to pull myself from the gardens.

I am not a castle person. Other than just generous curiosity about things which can bring me to a place like Bran, you will not find me running from one castle to the next and calling it a holiday.

I am not a Dracula fan either.

Still, the Bran Castle charmed me.

It looked small from the outside, but once in, you can lose yourself in its narrow passageways and hidden rooms. Plenty of wood around and peaking green hills from the windows made it…homely.

Yes, I imagined myself living in the “scary Dracula castle”.

Lets get something straight though. Even here, you will find out that the connection between the place and the story is imagined at best. An idea blown out of proportion for attracting tourists at worst. Bram Stoker had never stepped foot in Romania. Vlad the Impaler, who might have been part of the inspiration for the book, used a few castles in his life.

Other than a small room with exhibits showing the lack of connection, there is nothing vampire about this place at all.

It is homey and inviting.

As we were leaving, the kids plays had turned into a mad running around. I was busy thinking about how everyone sees what they want, in life and in travel. Our sparkly booted American lady, enjoyed the place because of Dracula, while we did because it ended up being completely non-Dracula.

Coming down the steep ramp I realized that Mr.Blab was missing.

We went back inside to try and find him.

And you, if you are thinking of coming here, remember that there is nothing vampire about it. Just a surprisingly pleasant castle amidst a mildly touristic town.

So come prepared.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 10 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Romania Post tags: bran, castle

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The thing is that we are thinking of going to Norway. Not just Norway. No. We are seriously considering going to Tromso. Where is that? Right about there:

It is so far North that in July, when we are wanting to go, the sun does not set.

Think about it.

Yeah, yeah, you are saying to yourself, big deal, your brain is fine, just go.

Sure, but we are thinking of going there with Couch.

Good night.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 14 comments | Add to del.icio.us
General, Romania Post tags: couch, tromso

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Big moon, big laughs, big meat. This was the motto of my second birthday on the road. With the years I have become less and less fussy about this day, so much so that my expectations of it are almost zero. Not quite frozen, but pretty close. This could be seen as sad “oh, poor woman, nobody makes her day special” or “god damn, her whole year is so amazing, she has no need of a birthday to know she is special”. I will leave the choice to you.

I did mention that Bucharest left us underwhelmed. Instead we spent an embarrassingly long time in the outskirts of the city with our feet running through some of the softest and greenest grass we have seen . Get out of the traffic chocked capital, drive through the big chimneys, pass the circle road while praying to survive, as nobody knows what is happening or bothers to follow the rules, drive some more until you reach the cute houses and turn right. There we were, most likely washing Couch, believing if we show him a good time, he will continue to be good to us and take us around Europe without a hitch. No kidding.

This is where I welcomed another year.

The morning was taken up by a table full of gifts prepared by the children. I piled the cards written in English and Romanian on the side. Then I  unveiled various food items from hand drawn wrapping papers. We followed this with a leisurely day and quick preparation for the evening bbq.

Not before long the meat was sizzling over the hot coals and cold beer frosted the glasses all around. Friends of our hosts joined in and only the huge moon knows how much we laughed.

And there, warmly welcomed by strangers in a new country I gave myself the best gift. I felt it all – the place, the company, the clean and waxed Couch, my kids running on the grass, the freedom, the privilege…life as a traveler.

So passed one of the most, no, THE most amazing year of my life.

Thus far.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 10 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Romania Post tags: birthday, bucharest

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Hello, Romania!

Reports I read online before we left, all talked about how the only bridge over the Danube between Bulgaria and Romania, can take hours to cross due to heavy traffic. The reality was that it was so easy, car and people free, that we slowed down a few times to make sure that we are not missing some control point along the way. One booth on the Romanian side housed both countries passport checks, which took all but half a minute to pass through. Easy!

Romania’s might be going through economic recovery which is faster than Bulgaria’s, but its roads so far have brought back memories of pothole ridden Sofia of 10 years ago.  A short 60km after the border and we were driving on a road that had tracks. I have to say, it was the first one for me. Tracks on asphalt, all on the circle road around Bucharest.

Their roads and drivers leave a lot to be desired, but the hospitality is second to none so far. Green grass, buckets of toys and trampoline – the kids are in heaven.

Bucharest itself is not so inviting. Some places just call on you to explore and dig deeper, Romania’s capital is not one of those. The center has a good collection of beautiful buildings and charming walking area. Unfortunately the busy part was full of fancy restaurants and snobby looking people jumping out of expensive vehicles.

The river walk was next to mind altering traffic, although still enjoyable.

We were missing the connection somehow. No street food, no cafes everywhere and other than the cars, not a whole lot of action around. Not much to connect to. We were just outsiders walking in a city, which is fun for approximately 30min on a good day.

The most exciting part of our walk turned out the nudity of the statue in front of the National Museum of History. A controversial fixture depicting the birth of the Romanian nation, which might be here only for a short while if many, many people have their way.  We left our mark on it just in case.

Bucharest did not win us, but we did find some lovely people right in the outskirts of its busy streets.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 8 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Romania Post tags: border, bucharest

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“Livin’ in Slivin” was fun. The city will hardly make it to a tourist brochure handed to visitors to this country, but we are not one of those. We are special and we have connections.

Life is wonderful indeed. One day we don’t really know each other, then the next we are crashing the living room of our new friends in Sofia. And then the following moment reveals us in Sliven, in their old family house enjoying dinner by the fireplace in the garden. Not long after, we are by ourselves in this most charming dwelling, setting up our own fires.

The house is full of memories. Old photos are peaking from under dusty suitcases. Piles of embroided sheets carry the smell of life gone by. Crystal glasses gently chime in as we walk by from behind the old cabinets. Our hosts needn’t have worried about us, we loved the house. As I said to Luba “you see all that there is to be done in here, we see comfort and a place to call home for short while”.

So enters into this traveling story, the “Pioneer house”. I hope you are keeping up with all those terms, because they are growing quite rapidly as we go.

And here is how you make pizza in a frontier house to provide you with warm comfort and late night smiles.

First you get busy with the sauce. Yes, you can buy it ready made, but that means you will miss out on the fun of making it and there will be less dishes for Mr.Blab to wash with the cold water (the only temperature that comes out of the tap).

Saute a lot of garlic and some onion in a pan. Pour in the tomato passata/can of tomatoes and some oregano and/or basil and salt and sugar. Add in some extra virgin olive oil and if you are a fancy member of the pioneer club, a splash of balsamic vinegar. Simmer until the surrounding area is sufficiently splattered in red a.k.a the sauce thickens.

Side note: you have in front of you a classic, a museum piece of history in Bulgaria. This is “Rahovetz” – the staple oven/stove top for every household. My mom still uses hers, after at least 35 years of service, and she would not part with it for anything.

Find a pan for baking. Make sure it fits your oven, especially if it is worthy of being a museum piece. Oil up and spread the dough to the edges, as you fend swiftly the little creatures that try to steal your olives or the capsicums you have carefully cut up.

Ask the chef to approve the sauce.

Layer sauce and your chosen ingredients. Ours were olives, capsicums and onion. Finish generously with cheese.

Bake and enjoy with salad, water and good company.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 2 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Bulgaria, Food on the road Post tags: food, sliven

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Quite unplanned we stopped in Kalofer, the birth place of one of Bulgaria’s national heroes – Hristo Botev. A poet, but more so a revolutionary, he features brightly in our history. And since this is the end of this part of the story and I feel a little bit bad about it, I will leave those of you who handle Bulgarian with a wonderful poem by Nikola Vapzarov about Botev.

Without Botev, the town of Kalofer has little exceptional to offer, although it is a starting point for treks to the highest peak of Old Mountain, named Botev (reasons for this choice should be clear by now).  The weather has been toying with us since we left Sofia, so we did not manage to venture into the deep nature of the area, but we did spend a lot of time in the center of town.

Unlike my amazing Easter decorating bonanza awhile back, this year I neither baked, stitched, painted or made anything really.

“Its Easter?!” I tried to hide my ignorance unsuccessfully when a friend of mine mentioned we might have trouble finding accommodation over this particular weekend. Even the week delay, gifted to me by the Orthodox branch of Christianity, could not help me. Frankly, I was not that torn up, because as all the other religious holidays for me, this one has always been more about a reason to have fun, to create and to enjoy the company of people who are dear to me. And separated from a firm belief, these things can be achieved any other day of the year.

When I read about how the mayor of Kalofer organized 100 bagpipers to play for Easter, I knew we had to go there, and that is how we ended up there.

Due to my tendency to read diagonally we almost missed the event, but the folk music that was carried all around town from the central plaza lured us in. People were walking the otherwise suitably for a small town empty area. Traditional costumes brightened up the atmosphere all around. As we were ordering a small lunch from the nearby cafe, I followed that nudging voice in my head and asked the waitress when will the bagpipes play? “It is supposed to be at 2pm”  “2pm? Today?” I asked while trying to press buttons on my camera to find out what time it was. “Yes, today”.

It was 1:57pm. In the nick of time, with a salad waiting for us on the table we dashed to the square and made it just before the first breaths exhaled in those skins.

The mayor of Kalofer and two of his youngest bagpipers

One hundred dizzying bagpipes filled the air with tradition. It took me 30 years to appreciate folk music, but it was worth the wait. The hairs on my arms stood up as though they knew something that I did not, a  deep meaning that I can not understand or explain.

After the bagpipers have warmed us up, it was time for the horo to start. A special orchestra from Ruse was brought in to put a sparkle under those village feet. Mr.Blab became an instant groupie of the accordion player, whose exuberance and heartfelt performance could have easily been plucked out of the drizzly days of Woodstock. The girls joined in and after a few circles around, almost got the rhythm. I jumped in too a bit later. Eeeeeha!

The orchestra played even while we made our way back to the cozy house we found up the street.

Ina, the woman whose warmth won me over in our search for accommodation, welcomed us back to the blossom trees backyard with a nest of eggs, one for each of us. I don’t care about stars or concierges, this kind of kindness and human connection can hardly be found in a hotel.

I had promised the kids that we will do our own kind of express Easter decorating, so I got busy boiling eggs. Then we worked hard, way over ten minutes, to create this year’s egg masterpieces.

And here is our “nest”

Then we waited…

Other than coloring eggs, I have incredibly vivid memories of the midnight Easter services from my childhood. We would go into the night, way past most kids bedtime. Around the church would be full of people holding candles. I just loved the candles. Choosing from whom to get my fire, keeping it going. Waiting for the service to finish and to start the egg fights. Egg fights is where all those beautiful eggs would end up being destroyed. If you had visions of yolk filled bombs flying around, let me stop you in time. You play it like this: one person holds their egg pointy side up, while the other one knocks it with theirs pointy side down. Then they change and do the same with the bottoms. The egg that doesn’t crack, wins. The egg that survives at the end is called borak , but I remember calling it бияч (biach). And let me tell you, to have the winner in your hand is one proud moment for any self-respecting kid.

So, after the service, past midnight, Sofia would fill with people carrying lit candles back home. Being part of the huge crowds, all tending to that precious flame, was so much fun. And if you lose it, no sweat, just ask someone around you to share theirs and keep on going, all the way home.

I have told that story a few times to my kids before, but it was the best Easter service by far, watching them go through it.

The best part

The funnest part - carrying the flames back home

Easter does not end there. All those piles of beautifully painted eggs, have to be used. So we continued fighting all the way to Sliven with friends.

Next to other flames…

…and to end the tradition in the small village of Chintulovo.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 6 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Bulgaria Post tags: Easter, holidays, kalofer, sliven

Snaps & Blabs

“I dont know…$30?” I am not really interested in the answer, more so in where he is trying to take this conversation. What is he trying to say?

“Almost. $27 – twenty seven dollars! Boy it was cheap there. Do you remember we used to pay like $3 or $4 for lunch or dinner usually?” he is day dreaming by now, not really starting a discussion with me.

And in a nutshell, he is right. Asia was exceptionally cheap to travel through – a big reason why we ended up spending almost a year there.

Europe is not. Europe is a different breed of cattle altogether.  While in Asia trains, buses and boats are practically dirt cheap, in Europe they may be nicer, but plain unaffordable for us. Yeah, 20 Euro for a trip might be fine for one, but when you multiply it by five it becomes a whole lotta wowza (yeah, I know this is bad English).

After considering motor-homes – too expensive; walking – no way; skipping the continent – we never give up without a fight; we ended up with the plan of buying an old cheap car in Sofia and trying our luck with it.

And we did.

I sacrificed myself to the bureaucracy gods and lost almost 4 hours of my life in the process of changing the ownership registration for our car – the rainy gray day did not help at all.

But in the end we have a shiny blue car. We needed a name and while toying with the idea of calling it Pretty Betty Blue the Second, the Dod came up with the perfect name hands down.

Drum-roll…

I present to you THE COUCH  ta-da!

We have a feeling that this creature has been tortured, badly. It has more wounds and bumps than a cat’s favorite scratch pole. It is missing bits and pieces. There is a hole on the driver’s side window. Squeaks and rattles give a lovely white noise to the experience, but…

But the most important thing is that it MOVES.

It got us almost 400km away from Sofia and every time we touch it gently and greet it for good morning, we hope it will get us a lot further.

Please kindly (and gently) welcome Couch. Send good thoughts, vibes, prayers whatever is your way. Because if this car takes us through Europe, we are one hell of a lucky buggers.

Did I say gently? Make that very gently

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 12 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Bulgaria Post tags: car, sofia, transport

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Our home for a few days. I cannot stop looking at those blossoming trees everywhere. If you were wondering, most of them are plums.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 2 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Bulgaria Post tags: accommodation, kalofer, snippet

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Early spring has awakened the vegetation in the  folds of the Middle Mountain where Koprivshtitsa is tucked. A place that has a special place for Bulgarians. Walking into house after house of revolutionaries who 135 years ago helped organize the revolution that would eventually start the Russo-Turkish War which in turn would end five centuries of Ottoman rule over these lands, for the first time I actually felt the connection that no history book had managed to pass on to me.

Putting history aside, this place is like a balm for the cement soaked eyes of a city dueler.

Unlike most of the preserved towns around, this one has managed to do it in a way that is genuine, simple and devout of cheap flashiness or over eagerness to please the visitors coming down the road. One can feel the years and stories soaking in the stone walls and the wood, which abounds not only in the woods around.

We walked on the cobble stones and savored the wood burning smells that filled the air in the early evening. Boys showed their skills on old bikes while my girls laughed and walked off with a mumbled “show offs” on their lips.

Ahhh, it is so good to be back on the road. I had forgotten quickly how freeing this feeling is. And Koprivshtitsa was probably the best first stop for our second year of life as nomads.

See for yourselves.

©Snaps & Blabs, 2012. | Permalink | 4 comments | Add to del.icio.us
Bulgaria Post tags: koprivshtitsa, village

Snaps & Blabs