Bucharesti Brasov (area) Sighisoara Maramures
After Bucharesti, I visited the 13th century Poienari Fortress. This is located a few kilometers north of Arefu in the Transylvanian Alps. Vlad Tepes lived here and his wife killed herself by jumping off of the walls when she thought the invading Turks would overtake the fortress. According to Arefu legend, Tepes ordered it to be built on the very top of the mountain in one week. The peasants formed a chain and handed bricks up to one another day and night and succeeded in building it within a week. Today, most of it is gone due an earthquake, but the surrounding majestic view remains.
While getting a van to Arefu, I learned that time in Romania has little significance to reality. After some valiant attempts at speaking Romanian, I was able to get the time that the van leaves. With 45 minutes to waste, I wandered for half an hour to get some pictures and arrived back at the van 15 minutes early-but it already left. Another driver said he would be leaving to Arefu in an hour, so I sat in front by him to get some shots out the window. While we waited, he talked and laughed with a different driver with a moustache for some time, throwing occasional glances at me. Little did they know that “American wife” jokes transcend all language barriers and you needn’t know what they are speaking to know what they are saying. When they finally finished, I just looked at my driver with a grin and chuckled while shaking my head. He immediately froze and turned red as he looked away embarrassed. It’s always best to make them think you understand the language, even when you don’t speak it.
Arefu is a small village which has somehow been able to evade the negative repercussions of both Tepes and Ceausescu. A peaceful Eden with friendly hard-working people, great fresh cooked food and some mean home brewed tuica (plumb brandy). Here I found a wonderful 10 year old girl who spoke English very well and was able to teach me some Romanian words and phrases rather quickly. Little did I know that this girls’ father was the driver with a moustache. He confirmed one night amidst much tuica and laughter, that they were indeed joking about me and that my driver wanted to just take me wherever I wanted to go and forget about all of the other people waiting for a ride.
I also participated in traditional dancing around a campfire and met the only Americans I saw on the whole trip. They were with a guided tour, and later, gave me a lift on my long arduous journey to Brasov.
