[A bit back dated...]
I got to Braşov on the evening of the 14th after taking a train up from Bucharest. While still in Bucharest I made arrangements online to Couchsurf with Anca, a local journalist in Braşov who shares a flat with her sister in the center of the old town. However, apparently the CS request was made for the 15th and 16th, which means that I ended up showing up a day earlier than expected. Luckily Anca didn't mind too much and welcomed me into her home.
The next day I was pretty much on my own as Anca and her sister both had to work. When I first set out, I was on a mission to buy a new bag. Since leaving Ireland I had been using a cheap bag that I bought there as a carry-on for airplanes and as a day bag to tote things around with, but by the time I was ready to leave Bucharest, that bag had already pretty much had it. I got the not-so-clever idea to just replace it with another cheap bag that I bought at one of the luggage stalls inside the Gara du Nord Metro stop in Bucharest. However, “cheap” in Ireland and “cheap” in Romania are two different things and the bag I bought started falling apart even before I put anything in it. I didn't really have the time to go buy another one in Bucharest and catch my train, so I went ahead and used it anyway. By the time time the thing was packed, virtually every strap on the thing had popped off and I had to hold it together with two belts and a couple emergency bungie cords. Plainly this wouldn't do. So I set out to find a place to buy a new bag and found an Intersport (a chain of large sporting goods stores in Romania which tend to sell quality name-brand merchandise at decent prices) and invested in a very good small bag. It was 179 RON, but should last indefinitely.
After this, I brought it back to Anca's house and set off to do the touristy stuff in the old city. Braşov is actually a pretty big town, or small city of about 300,000 people, but most of the old medieval city still survives largely untouched – the medieval walls and fortifications, the tiny cobble-stone lanes, and so on – and is very picturesque. Most of the modern city was constructed between 1950 and 1960, when Romania was still firmly pro-Soviet and Braşov was temporarily named Oraşul Stalin. During this period, the government engaged in forced urbanization – pulling in thousands of rural farmers from the country-side and dumping them there to work in factories – but they left most of the old city alone.
The old city was initially founded by the crusading Teutonic Knights and evolved into a German (Saxon) mercantile colony by the 13th century by the name of Kronstadt. The Germans lived inside the walls, whereas the Romanians lived outside in the Schei quarter, which still has a very unique look and feel quite distinctive from the German town inside the walls. Most of the town's fifteenth century walls – built to defend against Turkish attacks – remain standing and can be seen in some of my photographs. I also took the funicolore (cable car, or incline) up Mount Tâmpa, the small hill/mountain overlooking the old city. This is where the famous Hollywood-style “Brasov” sign is and from the top you can walk to the sign where there is an observation deck. This is where I took the “high up” photographs of Braşov.
[Between 1950 and 1960, during the Oraşul Stalin period and long before the modern sign was built, the name “Oraşul Stalin” was etched into the side of the mountain by means of artistic deforestation.]
[One thing I was wondering while I was exploring the old town is why they built it in the valley instead of on top of Mount Tâmpa, which would plainly be a better position to defend. Later I learned that the original settlement had indeed been built on top of Mount Tâmpa, but in 1458 Vlad Ţepeş (the real “Dracula”) attacked it and had the original settlement completely dismantled and relocated into the valley in 1460. And, true to form, he impaled some 40 German merchants in the process.]
Braşov has a very different feel than Bucharest. Whatever was left of medieval Bucharest was pretty much destroyed first by the Romanian monarchy starting in the nineteenth century and lasting until World War II who sought to “modernize” their capital, then by the Stalinists who sought to remake the capital with their vision, and finally in the post-Stalinist period with modern developers snatching up and developing whatever they can. This is what gives Bucharest its unique feel: part nineteenth-century monarchical (copying the styles prevalent then in Europe), part twentieth-century Stalinist, and part twenty-first century ultra-modern capitalist. The old town of Braşov has none of this, it is very much still a medieval town, though functional today.
It isn't just the town itself that is radically different. The people look different as well; the difference between Wallachia, which is almost exclusively Romanian and Transylvania, which is a complex mix of Romanians, Hungarians, and Germans. Braşov has, for example, a lot more natural blonds which means I don't stick out as dramatically as I do in Bucharest. There are also a lot more big breasted women here, in fact almost all the women here have big tits; I imagine flat-chested women in Braşov have all sorts of complexes about it. Of course, like everywhere in Romania, there are also a noticeable number of Roma (gypsies) as well though they seem better off here than the ones you see in the center of Bucharest. Even the pigeons look different here: in Bucharest they look like pigeons everywhere (Denver, London, where ever), whereas in Braşov they look smaller, darker, and more uniform (and yes, they are pigeons).
After walking around all day and tiring myself out (Braşov is very hilly, so walking it extensively is very tiring) and getting the worst sunburn I've had since I visited Mom in Chattanooga back in September, I decided to take a load off. I just sat down at a little street cafe in Braşov's main thoroughfare and started drinking beer, people watching, and writing in my journal. I decided to do a little stream-of-consciousness thing, just jotting down random thoughts and flash observations, and here they are (though I have edited out some random thoughts, mostly about cute girls and elaborated on a few so people reading this blog know what I am talking about):
A whole lot of girls with big tits here – [I saw] the first overt Neo-Nazi skinhead I have seen since I've been in Romania – [Braşov is] bigger than I expected, but much smaller than Bucharest – [there is] a better mix of young and old here than in the center of Bucharest – prices are noticeably cheaper [in Braşov] – white trash is everywhere: here is a very rough looking woman, wearing a green fluorescent tank-top, who is VERY pregnant lighting a cigarette – [there are] a lot more ugly women here than in Bucharest – a lot more people with tattoos – these quaint little medieval streets must really suck when it rains – I stand out here a little bit, but not like in Bucharest – I am one of four guys sitting by themselves at this cafe drinking beer, though I am he only one writing – there are a lot of German tourists here - a LOT of girls here with big tits – I just ignored a very well dressed guy begging for change – I have just seen the second Segway [the weird two-wheeled mechanized things you stand on and drive around] drive by – it is utterly impossible to guess the age of some of these girls/women – some sort of crazy person is walking down the street screaming “Hallelujah!” making weird noises and dancing around while ranting in Romanian like a lunatic, at least the US doesn't have a monopoly on this kind of thing – I have been, and still am, smoking way too much – [despite it being very hot] a group of Japanese tourists just went by and all of them were wearing heavy jackets, do they sweat or what? - a lot more fat people here than in Bucharest – a lot of people wearing British Premier League shirts & jerseys – quite a few American tourists too - ...
After having a few more beers, it was time to go. Anca had invited me to join her and some friends to go to an international film festival that was happening over the weekend. On this night there were two movies, the first was a Romanian one and the second was an Irish one. I missed the first one but made it the the second one (an Irish film about some musical project that brought Irish Traveler musicians to Mali to play a benefit for NGOs trying to save the Niger River). Along the way to the film festival I bumped into a couple friends from Bucharest, people who were at Goa Festival, which was a bit weird. As it turned out, Anca only stayed at the film festival through the first movie and then left, so we completely missed each other.
As you may know, I like to check out the Irish pub (or failing that, the English one) in whatever city I am in as the pub tends to be a little Western oasis in Eastern Europe where English is accepted, where you're likely to meet other English-speakers (both locals and foreigners) and probably football on television. There is always an Irish or English pub in any city of decent size. I found six (and I know there are more) in Bucharest, one in Constantia, one in Chisinau, and so on. Earlier in the day I passed by Braşov's Irish pub – Kilkenny's – but it was closed for renovation.
After leaving the film festival, I saw “The Auld Scots Pub” directly across the street (Str. Johan Goth, Nr. 2, - at the corner of Str. Johan Goth & Str. A. Hirscher - Braşov, Transilvania, Romania) and this place turned out to be great. Good food, reasonably priced beer, good music, football on the television, excellent service and a great mix of people. This is probably the best pub I have been to in Romania or Moldova. So I got some dinner and started drinking again.
In the process I met a very drunk Dutch guy who was on a mission to get much more drunk and then go clubbing. He had great English and since we were both out to get drunk, we joined forces. After having a few more at the pub, we tracked down where the biggest nightclub was and set off for it. In the process we met up with two South African Jewish guys who were also looking for a place to go, so they joined us as well. We went to a club called Caşo, which was obviously a major club - the place was huge and very well done - but for whatever reason, this night there were no people there. We spent a couple hours there, but finally I just got bored as the place was virtually empty and the only unattached girls were the paid stage dancers.
I left those people at the club and went back to Anca's house and spent the rest of the night hanging out with her, her sister, and three of their friends which was fun. We all finally went to bed at about 6:30 in the morning. It had been a long day.
I woke up at about 2:30 in the afternoon on the 16th, like everyone else, but this pretty much ruined my original plan to go out to Bran Castle, the most famous of the “fake” Dracula castles in Romania. It is a real castle, but has nothing whatsoever to do with either Vlad Ţepeş (the real “Dracula”) or with Bram Stoker's novel. It was just marketed well. The Romanian courts just gave the castle to Dominic von Hapsburg, the heir to the throne of Austria-Hungary (a New York-based architect), but not the stuff inside the castle, so right now it is mostly a barren shell of a castle as the Romanian authorities have removed all the old stuff, but the Hapsburg hasn't put in any new stuff yet. Further, the castle is only open until 4:00 PM, so I would not have made it anyway. I still did a little more touring around, I found and photographed the synagogue and a few other odds and ends and then went back to the Scottish pub.
I started watching Premier League football (soccer) as a social thing; everyone in Europe loves football, so it gave me something to chat about at the bar. However, oddly enough – like hockey – I have become a real fan now. Although it became fairly obvious that Chelsea wouldn't win, I was still hoping that Liverpool would beat out Manchester United, as I REALLY don't like them at all. Anyway, on the 16th, I watched the Everton vs. West Ham. game at the pub and had a good time. Interestingly enough, unlike at the street cafe where I was the only one writing, at the pub I was one of three people sitting around writing.
After leaving the pub I went to an Internet cafe to make my arrangements for Sighişoara (next blog) and met up with Anca, Bogdan, Ileana and her boyfriend (I forget his name) and we went back to the film festival. On this day it was a very depressing German movie. On that evening (the 16th), the various museums were having an “open night” so I got to go inside the White Tower (which is allegedly haunted as this is both where the city fathers used to meet but also served as the town torture center for prisoners as well). We went around a bit and then went back to Anca's place. Since I was leaving the next morning, I had a couple beers with everyone and called it a night.
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