My impression was that this would be a small town tucked in a sort of mountain bowl, so I am really surprised when we drop out of the mountains into a long city that goes on and on for kilometers. But the city does wind back into a sort of valley and near the head of the valley we finally come into the old “Istoric” central part. Here the cathedrals and squares and crooked streets are surrounded by green hills.
Our guesthouse is on the very top of one of these hills, and the road winds two kilometers up to it. We are staying in the Pension Toscana, and it is very quiet up here. We can see the BRAȘOV sign on the side of Mount Tâmpa, looking like the HOLLYWOOD sign, just across the valley from us, and off in the distance the high peaks of the Carpathian Mountains rise. It is a steep 10 minute walk down into town; about 15 back up.
We are just ready to get out after driving a good part of the day, so we head down the hill looking for a place to eat. When we were in Sighişoara, we met a girl from Braşov who insisted we eat at Sergiana. We found the restaurant at the end of Strada Muresenilor, by the roundabout (There is another Sergiana back a block, on the wrong side of the street.) but we almost missed it. It is in the basement of a building, and when you go down the stairs the doors are closed, with no real indication of what is behind.
What is behind the closed doors is a maze of old brick tunnels, all arches and vaulted ceilings. It is pretty cool. The food was good. Not spectacular, but the ambiance was amazing. Gail had pastrami and polenta, while I had chicken stuffed with ham and cheese, a green salad with lemon, and mashed potatoes. We drank through a bottle of white Sauvignon Blanc from Romania, then called it a day.
Back at our room we went down to the Finnish Sauna for an hour.
We are on our last bottle of the red Romanian wine we bought, made from Feteascâ Neagrâ grapes. I bet you have never heard of this grape variety. Me neither. You might know it by its other common names: Poama fetei negre, Păsăreasca neagră, and Coada rândunicii.
No? I didn’t think so.
Anyway, we really enjoyed the wine. It is very regional, but I think it might be good for the Romanians to export it at some time. Want to jump on the Feteascâ Neagrâ bandwagon? Perhaps plant a few rows of your own? Read more here.
It is always fun to find some little good thing that is only available in a specific region.
The next morning we dropped Fred off safely back at Avis.
Phew!
Brasov, home of four lane roundabouts and lots of honking. At one red light I was looking around and when I turned back there was a hunchback with his face pressed right up against my side window. I almost jumped off the clutch!
Yes, a real hunchback, staring in the window, un-moving, with a grimace on his face. He was holding something like the daily paper, and he just would not leave. I was wondering if he would move when the light turned green, or if I’d get honked at by the 600 drivers behind me.
Suddenly he turned and moved up to stand and stare in the car ahead of us.
Next door to Avis was the train station, lucky for us, so I stopped in for tickets onward to Bucharest. The departure and arrival boards are all in white and in a different format than what I have seen in other countries, and the ticket machine had no English or German options.
So we got in a line.
Unsmiling ticket agents, all women, looking like they hate their jobs.
Here is a hint that will save you time if you come here for tickets: as you walk in the main doors from the city side (facing to the tracks) go to the ticket booths on the right side of the building. The left side is a private railway and they are known as "the slow train to Bucharesti company." About a six hour trip.
Anyway, I picked up reserved seats, second class, on the 12:20 IC for $12 apiece. Two point five hour trip.
We walked the two miles back into the old town, down the Strada 13 Decembrie. It is interesting walking past old blocks of identical communist era apartment buildings. At one corner, I decided decided I wanted to be "that special comrade," to get the top apartment with the rounded balcony.
There are some really depressing "motivational slash inspirational" carved panels, showing the (depressing) reality of the family here.
And then there are very modern glass and steel buildings, with modern apartments listing for about €200,000
Once we were back in the istorical section, we found the Home Cocktail Bar which was quaint in a truly progressive, cutting edge way, run by two girls who must have been all of nineteen. I had a great glass of cool rosé, sitting in the warm sun out on the sidewalk.
This area all used to be under Roman control (hence the Roman blood in the Romanians) and there are the old statues near the city hall to show it.
All along the main street park are beautiful groups of flowers, made to look like peacocks. In between are displays planted to look like the state symbols.
There are big tables in the park where groups of old men gather to play some game with tiles. I thought it was chess at first, but we looked closer.
So we passed the afternoon looking into churches and around corners, walking the main pedestrian street and sitting in the square.
I watched the gypsy children come up the street, picking the very best flowers out of the planters at each sidewalk cafe, then walk in among the customers selling “bunches of fresh flowers.” They were trailed by their brother who just walked up to people with his hand out, looking for coins. When they got to me, I just laughed, and pulled out my camera to photograph them. That was a surprisingly effective way to shoo them on.
We found the old arched entryways in through the city walls, and walked the back streets looking at lots of "fixer-uppers" with "potential."
The main town square is actually the main town triangle. The top edge runs to the Black Church, and in the middle is the clock tower and main city hall.
Interesting Fact:
The local city symbol is a crown on a bunch of spaghetti. The spaghetti is flying.
King Flying Spaghetti Monster.
Due to another miscommunication in Romanian-English-German-Italian, Gail ended up with ice cubes for her wine.
I noticed they were heart shaped.
She was charmed.
There was an interesting item on the menu: Crap. I didn’t bother trying it. I am served enough crap the rest of the year that I don’t need anybody giving me more crap here.
A funny thing: one of the big sponsors of tourism here (as in they pay for printing out tourist maps and their ads are EVERYWHERE) is the Sex Shop Emmanuelle.
So we chugged back up the hill.
Another hour in the Finnish Sauna finished off the evening.
If I were to return to Romania, I would spend an extra day or two around here, to return south by Sinaia (or perhaps stay down there) to spend a few days hiking in the Bucegi National Park mountain area. It looked pretty nice as we drove by on our way to Peleș Castle.