Tim Cahill once said “In good travel writing, something on the trip always has to go wrong.” If this is true, then after my most recent Lonely Planet research trip in Romania and Moldova, I should have a book deal landing on my desk any second. At least I hope it’s a book deal. With the way my luck has been lately, it could just as easily be a talking, vampire gorilla.

This was easily the most calamity-ridden LP research trip I’ve ever had. While this cluster bomb of misfortune, this cyclone of discomfort, continuously assaulted me like starving Venetian pigeons, well-meaning bystanders kept on saying that, hey, this will probably all seem really funny six months from now. So, I’ve decided to write a letter to Future Me to see, in retrospect, how effing amusing he thinks everything was.

Dear February 2011 Leif,

How are you? Did you ever go see “Inception”? If so, what the tap dancing Buddha was that all about?

Oh, and I hope the over-night, lucrative book deal that should have arrived soon after I wrote this letter has gone well and that the film adaptation is progressing smoothly.

Anyhoo, I just wanted to recap that catastro-f*ck trip you took last summer. You know, now that you’ve had time to heal and get your lithium dosage just right so you aren’t drooling too much and your sphincter control has returned to socially acceptable levels, I thought we could reminisce a bit and see if maybe things weren’t as bad as we thought they were at the time.

As you may remember, when you first landed in Chisinau, Moldova, it was about 115 degrees in the shade. This, obviously, was uncomfortable, but since you were cross-eyed with jet lag, you managed to fall right to sleep in your rented apartment that first night.

When the phone rang at 2am, you were understandably confused. After all, you were in a strange place, brain damaged from exhaustion and the ring tone sounded like the hourly siren they use at the sleep deprivation cell block at Guantanamo Bay. When the pounding on the door and hollering in Russian started, including when they bafflingly started yelling your name, it’s understandable that, teetering on irreversible insanity, you scattered broken glass all over the entryway and tried to lock yourself in the refrigerator. We’ve all been there. Bangkok 1991, comes to mind. Anyway, that it later turned out to simply be downstairs neighbors, panicking over a leaky pipe in your bathroom that was flooding their apartment, and that you were able to manually close it and save the day was, in the grand scheme of things, a rather painless outcome.

Three boiling hot days later, during which time you perspired freely without pause, borderline dehydration really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, particularly when every muscle in your body cramped up, your gums receded and your eyeballs turned orange. Yes, I know you drank something like two liters of water every hour, so your deteriorating condition was a bit confusing at first, but dammit Future Leif, you have got to start salting your food in those conditions! How does a veteran world traveler not know this? You really are an idiot sometimes.

I bet after that unpleasantness, those first few days of cool rain in Bucharest came as a relief. Yeah, by the forth day it was a bit tedious. And on the ninth day, you can be forgiven for tearing apart your belongings to see if someone might have slipped a cursed idol into your backpack that makes every wish spectacularly backfire, like that enchanted monkey fist from The Simpsons. Incessant rain has been known to spark a delirium or two. Ask anyone in Seattle.

Then, there was that incident in Sinaia when, for the first time in 30 years of having a cash card, that Banca Românească ATM ate your card and it was still only the first week of the trip so you really needed to get it back, but it was a Saturday and the bank was closed and you had to drive all the way back to Sinaia from Brasov on Monday to retrieve it and the bank manager held your card right in front of you and said she couldn’t give it back until your bank at home faxed a formal request which, with the eight hour time difference and all, would have required you to drive back to Sinaia again two days later from, who knows, Sighişoara?, burning, in total, over two days of critical research time and so in desperation you deluged them with five kinds of identification, including your passport, LP business cards and the LP Romania book itself with your name and picture on the inside until their steadfast dedication to pointless bureaucratic nonsense wilted and you walked out of there triumphant, having only wasted a total of ½ a day.

Nicely done.

And remember two hours later when your car was towed away in eight minutes flat while you were checking prices inside a bus station? Keeping in mind that this is Romania, where, since the beginning of recorded history, parking one’s car has been a lawless, creative art, with sidewalks, parks, handicapped ramps and even the middle of the street being fair game. Do you think they were targeting you specifically because you’re so enviously handsome? Probably.

It was kind of amazing that, the odd food poisoning episode aside, in over 20 years of international travel you had never been extravagantly ill while on the road. So, really, you kinda had it coming when you were struck down with the Transylvanian Flu mere hours after arriving in Sibiu, where you thought that you might, finally, be able to relax a bit and enjoy yourself. Arguably, the 17 bed bug bites that you suffered that same evening, several of which were on your face, might have been just a teensy bit uncalled for.

Remember how 10 days later, just when those bed bug bites were finally fading, suffering six more bed bug bites seemed like a bizarre, but conceivable bit of bad luck?

And, being that our notes get a little frantic here, can you describe exactly how you felt when you were attacked again seven days later and it became rather obvious that the bed bugs were living in your backpack? Was it like a psychosis or closer to full-on hysteria?

On a scale of One to Hilarious, how funny were those last few days of the trip when, instead of unwinding and recovering from the baffling, unremitting torment of the previous five weeks, you spent that time boiling/scalding all of your possessions, scrubbing them with detergent, sun-baking them in black plastic bags, boiling/scalding everything again and generally suffering low-level, jittery paranoia day and night, believing that every itch, every tickle, every single form of exterior stimuli, was a bed bug that was preparing to repeatedly chomp you like a shark on a chum line?

Oh, that reminds me, how go the inquiries that you’ve been making that God may be specifically out to get you?

I think we’ve covered all the key incidents here. It’s difficult to be sure, since our final couple pages of notes have been rendered indecipherable due to the shredding, teeth marks and extensive fecal damage. So, if you could just get back to me with your thoughts on how funny this all seems from the safety and security of February 2011, that’d really help me out.

Sincerely,

Past Leif

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During my (fleeting) downtime in Timisoara, I went around the city making a spectacle of myself for the locals while shooting my (abridged) retelling of the events of the 1989 Revolution. Check it.

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Bucharest has precious few, outdoor, calm retreats from the frantic drivers and crowded sidewalks. Here’s one, with atmosphere to boot.

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Here we are, the final post for Romania Month. I’m happy to close things out with a list that, not even six years ago, wouldn’t have been possible. A few standout places aside, when I first arrived in Romania in 2004, restaurants were pretty dreadful. Both food and service frequently fell far short of what I had assumed was the bare minimum of quality and effort. On my first LP research trip in 2006, with rare exception, eating wasn’t about the pure enjoyment of the food as much as simply preventing death by starvation.

Well, the landscape has changed dramatically. Though wretched places still exist in mystifying numbers (I challenge anyone to find a decent meal anywhere in Craiova), new places, particularly in larger cities, are popping up that meet and exceed expectations that I’d normally hold for restaurants in the US. For me, traveling Romania used to mean losing 5-10 pounds. Now I only lose 3-5.

This is a snapshot of an admittedly somewhat arbitrary list that changes pretty much every time I come back from Romania. (The living version of this list can be found here.) I picked these places for a variety of reasons that don’t always necessarily include the strict quality of the food. But rest assured, each one will provide a memorable meal, in one way or another.

In no particular order, my picks for Romania’s best restaurants:

Bella Musica
Braşov
0268-477 956
Str George Baritu 2
This place gets full points on food, service, atmosphere and variety. It’s pretty much everyone’s local favorite too. The lovely cavernous basement of red brick and candlelight serves up a few Mexican dishes, but keeps the focus on very tasty Romanian fare. The shot of ţuică and chips with excellent salsa that’s served upon arrival is icing on the cake.

Grand Plaza
Sibiu
0269-210 427
Str 9 Mai 60
Not far from the train station, this busy place serves gimmick-free Romanian cuisine at great prices.

La Piazzetta
Sibiu
0269-230 879
Piata Mica 15
Among the best pizza served in Romania, with outdoor dining seats in the best plaza atmosphere in Romania.

Crama Sibiul Vechi
Sibiu
269-210 461
Str Ilarian
This popular, evocative brick-cellar spot off the main crawl reels in locals for its tasty Transylvanian armory of delicious soups, mutton, sausages and fish.

Pub 13
Alba Iulia
3rd Gate, Citadel
Built into the citadel’s eastern wall near the ‘third gate’, this cavernous restaurant-bar has medieval weapons hung around a cool brick-walled space. Though it screams ‘tourist trap’ I was amazed at the creative and delicious food they were serving up.

Lugano
Cluj-Napoca
0264-594 593
Str General Eremia Grigorescu 51
With Italian food being happily butchered in most of Romania’s “Italian restaurants”, finding this gem was pleasant surprise. It’s among the best pasta you’ll find in the country, with no pizza to clutter the menu or a long wine list.

Casa Lavric
Iaşi
0232-229 960
Str Sf Atanasie 21
Up the hill from Casa Bolta Rece is one of Iasi’s best Romanian cuisine options, owned by singer-musician Laura Lavric and decorated in classic musical instruments.

Restaurant Noir
Piatra Neamt
Piata M. Kogalniceanu
0233-211 886
This place opened just after I’d made my visit in 2009, so I haven’t eaten here, though I’m assured by discriminating locals that this is the best food in the area. The food here is French with Asian influences that is gourmet caliber “at Piatra Neamt prices”.

B+B
Suceava
0745-581 922
Str Mihai Eminescu 18B
This cozy restaurant, using fresh ingredients, is a top choice for backpackers wanting a stomach-distending, proper, savory Romanian meal. It’s one of the best value Romanian restaurants in the country.

Nora
Timişoara
0256-218 204
B-dul Dambovita 49a (corner of Str Transilvania)
Reservations are a must to nab a spot on the terrace at this very popular, casual Romanian restaurant.

Irish Pub
Constanta
0241-414 400
Str Stefan cel Mare 1
The attractive, orderly wood interior and exceptional menu (one of the best in town) miss the true mark of an Irish pub, but you can get your pint of Guinness here. Try the thin grilled pork chops, served with a side of mashed potatoes.

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I realize before I say this that a guidebook writer shouldn’t be so vocal about favoring one city above all others in his research area, but when it comes to Sibiu, I simply cannot control myself in the face of its all-encompassing awesomeness. So, here it is: Sibiu is hands-down the best city in Romania. In fact, it’s one of my favorite cities in the world. Let us tally the awesome…

The city itself is a walker’s dream. Other city centers in Romania are nearly as pretty (Oradea for example), but the main difference is that Sibiu has three interlocking central squares, making it one of the very few Romanian city centers that are pedestrian-only (Timisoara is another, though less serene). One can stroll happily along without worrying about when/if they’ll be mowed down by a swarm of cars being driven at high speeds by total a$$holes who have a love affair with their horns.

The museums are first rate. Being named a Europe “Capital of Culture” in 2007, the city was thoroughly restored and/or beautified to its Saxon-licious greatness. Many of the museums enjoyed a good touch-up, especially the History Museum, which was completely redone, with swanky displays and moodily lit corridors. Outside of town is the sprawling, open-air Museum of Folk Civilization, with 120 traditional dwellings, mills and churches brought from around the country and set among two small lakes and a tiny zoological garden.

They love their culture. Excellent events take place all year long, including the International Theatre Festival (May and June) and the Sibiu Jazz Festival (May).

Accommodations: Over the course of only three years, Sibiu went from having one moribund hostel to having four hostels that are so excellent, it pains me that I can’t sleep at all of them every year. I’m speaking of Flying Time Hostel, Chess Hostel, Felinarul Hostel, and Roth Hostel. There’s also a large variety of great B&Bs and mid-range hotels.

Restaurants: Most cities only have one, maybe two (but often zero) really good restaurants. Sibiu is packed with them. There’s Grand Plaza, one of the best no nonsense Romanian restaurants in the country. There’s La Trattoria, one of the precious few Italian restaurants in Romania that knows what they’re doing. There’s La Piazzetta, serving some of the tastiest pizza in the country on what is easily the best terrace area in Romania (NOTE: I heard a rumor that this place closed down due to a bureaucratic eff up. Anyone know if it ever re-opened?). There’s Crama Sibiul Vechi, serving ciorba (soup) to die for and really good meat dishes. There’s more, but you get the idea.

And if, by some miracle, you get your fill of Sibiu, there’s also a wide variety of worthwhile nearby villages that can cumulatively fill several day-trips, like Cisnadie, Rasinari and Paltinis.

I love other cities around the country for a variety of different reasons, but Sibiu does it all and they do it extremely well.

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A hard-won ‘best of’ list if there ever was one. I’ve spent many uncomfortable nights around Romania over the years to boil this list down to the perfection that it is today. The good news is that each year another worthy budget place opens up and one or two god-awful places disappear. This is just a snapshot of the living list that usually gets one or two changes every time I return from a trip. (Meaning, if you’re reading this after September 2010, you’d better refer to the living list.)

In the meantime, here are my favs:

Felinarul Hostel (Sibiu)

A 14-bed sanctuary, roughly mid-way between the train station and the center. The Romanian-Irish husband and wife team have put a lot of thought into the design, including tasteful German, Hungarian and Romania influences. On Thursdays they whip up a Transylvanian Goulash, served with a palate-sterilising shot of ţuică, naturally.

Flying Time Hostel (Sibiu)

In an 18th-century building designed to stay naturally cool, this place has ‘classic’ furniture and decor courtesy of an interior designer’s brain splatter. There’s great beds, a flowery inner courtyard, a cafe serving excellent coffee and a basement pub that gets raucous at the weekend.

The Midland Youth Hostel (Bucharest)

It doesn’t get any more central or affordable than Midland. Just a few blocks from the Universitate metro station and just across from the entrance of the Cismigiu Gardens. It’s a little hard to find. Walk west along B-dul Regina Elisabeta to the park entrance and make a right; the hostel entrance is three doors down. Buzz and then find ‘Scara 2’ (stairway 2) to the right; walk up three flights.

Kismet Dao Hostel (Brasov)

This is a busy, dorm-y, four-floor, six-room villa. They have a DVD library, playful staff and one free beer/soda each day to get your evening started. It’s the party-leaning hostel in town.

Rolling Stone Hostel (Brasov)

Run by the high-energy, friendly Bolea Family, the Stone is a welcoming hostel spot with a more homey feel. Unfortunately, it gets pretty tight in the kitchen and bathrooms.  They also rent private apartments off-site.

High Class Hostel (Suceava)

Monica, your interminably good-natured, problem-solving host, is a licensed tour guide for all of Romania and has particularly encyclopaedic knowledge of Bucovina, Neamt and Maramures. Not surprisingly, she leads outstanding monastery tours. The comfy hostel occupies a flowery villa, five minutes walk from the bus station. A self-cater kitchen and laundry service are available.

Retro Hostel (Cluj)

On a quiet lane amidst 16th-century citadel wall fragments, the happy, superbly run Retro is one of Romania’s best hostels. The larger dorms are a bit tight, but colourful with gold walls, moonlight windows and sunshiny bedspreads and the privates are a good value. The chatty and tirelessly helpful staff offer maps and good-value day trips.

Transylvania Hostel (Cluj)

The leafy inner courtyard is prime end-of-day, cruisy, drinking territory. Even without the copiously consumed alcohol, this centrally located, 50-bed place is disarmingly welcoming, with all the next-gen hostel attributes: PCs, wi-fi, home theatre, large self-cater kitchen and combo sauna/massage showers inspired by Star Trek. The privates feel a bit overpriced.

Pensiunea Ruxi (Curtea de Arges)

Tel. +40 (0) 727 827 675
Str Negru Voda 104
Family-run Pensiunea Ruxi, sitting inconspicuously across from Hotel Confarg, is exceptional. The rooms are new and comfortable (though the walls are smidge thin). Never mind that, the real treat is the homey atmosphere, where the family will go to heart-breaking lengths to take care of you. Daughter Ruxandra speaks passable English and sweet talking her will likely win you access to her computer for a quick, gratis email session. A home cooked breakfast is three euros and is served on in front of the TV, with remote control at the ready. Just like home.

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Romania Month continues with a look at ‘Stefan cel Mare’ (Stephen the Great, ruled 1457-1504), defender of Moldavia, founder of monasteries and total badass.

It’s a rare day when a Romanian doesn’t speak this guy’s name, not only because he was the closest thing to a superhero that Moldavia has ever had, but his name adorns squares, boulevards, streets, statues and landmarks in virtually every city. When reading a Romanian address, if the place in question is located on ‘Boulevard Stefan cel Mare’, rest assured that this is the biggest or most important (or both) street in the city.

During his reign as Prince of Moldavia, Stefan repulsed forces from Poland and Hungary and his heroic resistance against the Ottoman Empire was admired throughout Europe. Pope Sixtus IV awarded Stefan the Atheta Christi (Champion of Christ) award. Although it’s said that he untiringly fathered over 20 illegitimate children, Stefan was nevertheless considered holy enough for canonization by the Romanian Orthodox Church under the mouthful of a title ‘The Right-believing Voivod Stephen the Great and the Saint’.

When he wasn’t building a battle record of 34 and two (sources vary wildly), he erected 44 churches and monasteries, many of which are now Unesco World Heritage sites.

Strong, battle-savvy leadership ran in Stefan’s family; his cousin Vlad ‘Tepes’ Dracula, though distinctly less pious in temperament, also fought – or, more accurately, frightened off – the Turks during his reign as Prince of Wallachia.

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Among the many, many, so very many brainless, monumental, money pit projects hatched by former Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, only one remains useful and even admired. I speak of the Transfagarasan Road, Romania’s highest asphalt road, winding over the Fagaras Mountains, connecting Transylvania to Wallachia.

The road was born, not surprisingly, out of one of Ceausescu’s many paranoid episodes, wanting to secure a Carpathian crossing in case of Russian invasion (as had happened in Czechoslovakia in 1968). Ceausescu sent in the army to tackle job, which they did in just four and a half years (38 fall-down exhausted soldiers reportedly died in mishaps during construction), opening in September 1974.

Due to the high altitude weather, the road is only open (roughly) from June through October. The north (Transylvania) side is indisputably the highlight, cinematically twisting and climbing, passing little waterfalls and remote lodges while providing stupefying views. Soon after the tree-line starts to thin, Bâlea Cascada (Bâlea Waterfall) appears – or not, as it is often enshrouded in a fog so thick and creamy you could mix in parmesan and poured it over pasta.

At the road’s peak is Lake Bâlea (2,034 meters/6,671 feet) which is also often lost in fog. Keep an eye out for (pathetic) signage signaling your arrival or just pull over when you see a lot of parked cars and roadside vendors selling corn on the cob. The walk from the road to the lake is about 15 minutes. Or drive it, though with all the people wandering around driving is about as slow as walking and you run the risk of finding nowhere to park once you reach the busy lakeside chalet/restaurant. Lake Bâlea is also the site of the Ice Hotel.

An instant after passing the Lake Bâlea turnoff, you’ll plunge into a nearly one kilometer long tunnel, emerging on the south side of the mountain, which is less striking to look at, but the upshot is that it’s rarely foggy on this side. The drive down the mountain and through the twisting, deteriorating forest road at the bottom takes about 90 minutes all told, before you suddenly come upon Lake Vidraru Dam and Poienari Citadel (the real Dracula’s castle) soon after.

This is such an unforgettable experience behind the wheel that it was declared “the best road in the world” by the Top Gear boys when they visited in 2009, tearing up and down the mountain in an Aston Marton, a Ferrari and a Lamborghini. (I’ve driven it four times, each behind the wheel of a Daewoo Matiz – not quite the same thrill.)

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Romania Month continues with my picks for the best World Heritage sites.

Take a look at the voluminous full list of Romania’s World Heritage sites and you might be tempted to assume that Romania has naked pictures of World Heritage’s sister. They’re everywhere and, more importantly, each one is super cool.

I’m linking to proper descriptions below, and it’s not a small amount of reading, so without further babbling, my Romania World Heritage picks are:

• The fortified church of Biertan (15th-century Saxon double-walled church and cover model for the 2010 LP Romania guidebook)

• Village of Viscri (excellently preserved/restored Saxon village and fortified church)

• The Painted Monasteries of Southern Bucovina (among Europe’s greatest artistic achievements, some of the amazing murals have the the unusual distinction of being painted on the outsides of the churches; pictured)

• Historic center of Sighişoara (hill-top citadel and clock tower, 500 year old, colorful buildings, a collection of arresting museums and the birthplace of the real life Dracula)

• Wooden Churches of Maramureş (a series of thriving peasant villages with hand-built, ancient wooden churches)

• Danube Delta Biosphere Reserve (Europe’s second largest delta)

• The Monastery of Horezu (unusually large, ‘stern, but at the same time welcoming fortress’ built in 1694)

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Vlad Dracula was kind of like the Marilyn Manson of historic Romania. He was pretty twisted, but not nearly as twisted as the widely circulated rumors about him suggested, and, of course, he was considered a hero by many – even today (despite poor record sales).

Nevertheless, the fifteenth-century Wallachian prince’s reputation was still frightening enough to be used as a model for Dracula, the toothy vampire starring in the horror story of the same name, penned in 1897 by Bram Stoker.

While many Romanians happily cash in on the tourism fueled by Stoker’s artistic license, some argue that Vlad’s good name, an undeniably significant figure in their history, has been tainted by his literary doppelganger. Vlad is still considered by many Romanians to be a hero. He was voted one of “100 Greatest Romanians” in the Mari Români television show in 2006.

The real Vlad Dracula was born in 1431 in the Transylvanian town of Sighisoara. Somewhat counter-intuative to his enduring fame, he only ruled Wallachia for a mere eight cumulative years (1448, 1456-1462 and 1476). His father, Prince Vlad II, was called Vlad Dracul (from the Latin ‘draco’, meaning ‘dragon’) after the chivalric Order of the Dragon accredited to him by Sigismund of Luxembourg in 1431. The Romanian name Draculea – literally ‘son of Dracul’ – was bestowed on Tepes by his father. Bram Stoker chose to adopt an alternative meaning of the word draco, which, conveniently, was ‘devil’.

Vlad’s childhood was rather brutal. He spent many years in a Turkish prison, where he was allegedly raped by members of the Turkish court. He returned to Wallachia, unsurprisingly, a very angry young man, though he was soon able to vent that anger in a productive fashion. Notorious for his brutal punishment methods, ranging from decapitation to boiling and burying alive, he gained the post-mortem name ‘Tepes’ (‘impaler’) after his favorite form of pre-death torture. A wooden stake was carefully driven through the victim’s anus, to emerge from the body just below the shoulder in such a way as to not pierce any vital organs. This ensured at least 48 hours of unimaginable suffering before death. Tepes legendarily enjoyed eating a full meal (rare, one presumes) while watching his Turkish and Greek prisoners writhe on stakes in front of him. It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to make the connection of how his years in that Turkish prison might have contributed to this affinity.

There’s no denying that skewering defeated enemies was extravagantly cruel, but to be fair to poor Vlad, this was not, in fact, an unusual form of torture in medieval Europe. Tepes’ first cousin, Stefan cel Mare (Stephen the Great), the much celebrated Prince of Moldavia, is said to have ‘impaled by the navel, diagonally, one on top of each other’ 2300 Turkish prisoners in 1473. And that guy ended up being sainted!

Bram Stoker’s fictional, bloodsucking Dracula, of course, was a lavish exaggeration, recast as an undead corpse reliant on the blood of the living to sustain his immortality. Though he never actually stepped foot in Romania, had he made the journey, Stoker would have had no shortage of additional vampire material to work with, being that vampires formed an integral part of traditional folklore. The seventh-born child was said to be particularly susceptible to this affliction, identifiable by a hoof as a foot or a tail at the end of its spine.

Vlad Tepes died in 1476, and Stoker in 1912, yet Count Dracula lives on in an extraordinary subculture of fiction and film. The original “Dracula” has never been out of print.

So, now that we’ve straightened that out, wanna do some real Dracula chasing? Here’s a fun post I wrote for Gadling a few years back: can you guess which is the real Dracula’s castle? – part of my criminally under-recognized “My Bloody Romania” series.

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