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Up Close and Personal in Romania

By Joyce Dalton

As time, miles and trips tick by, travelers often develop ways to make their journeys more personal. For sure, they visit the famous monuments and museums, canyons and waterfalls, but they find ways to move beyond the great sites, to forge unforgettable experiences that are for them alone. More often than not, these special happenings, these moments of connectedness evolve from two essentials: the people waiting to be known and the settings waiting to be discovered.

Over the years, Romania has provided more special moments for me than seems fair to ask of any country. Most of them relate directly to people and settings and in many cases, are centered around the small properties where I based myself. Three favorites illustrate the point:

Casa Bud, Immersed in Village Life

Maramures is unlike any other place. Tucked in the country’s northwestern corner, it remains Romania’s and perhaps, all of Europe’s, most traditional zone. Yes, people have cars, but horse-drawn wagons are a more common sight. Some live in large, modern houses, but most still favor the small, wooden styles of their forebears. Even those who own TVs and telephones spend most of their spare time sitting on benches in front of towering wooden gates pulling coarse wool onto twirling spindles as they gossip with friends.

Tourists come to Maramures for the villages with their intricately carved gates and exquisite small wooden churches. They want to learn about the old customs (still practiced) and traditional costumes (still worn). It’s not surprising, then, that most opt to stay in private homes. During my 20 or so visits to the Iza Valley, the best and most accessible region for immersing oneself in Maramures life, I’ve stayed in several villages, always with wonderful families. However, after meeting Mariana and Vasile Bud and overnighting in their home, I’ve headed straight there every trip.

It’s not wood and it’s not small, but Casa Bud is situated right on the Strada Principala, the main road running through the Iza Valley. Its balcony, stretching the entire length of the second floor, is the perfect spot for watching farmers and their red-tasseled horses bringing wagons overflowing with grass or hay (perhaps topped by a child or two) home from the fields each evening. Or observing village women walking to the little store across the street, then returning with their black and white checked cloth shoulder bags filled with bread and other necessities. If Pelaguta, a neighbor, spots me from her yard, I’m sure to be invited to see the new oxen her husband brought home from the weekly market in Sighet, the main town, and to try one of her cakes and homemade tuica, a powerful plum brandy that is de rigueur when guests drop in. East and west, shingle-roofed homes stretch along either side of the road and always, the mountains, which have kept Maramures and its customs safe and intact for centuries, meet the eyes.

I know of nothing more peaceful and joy enhancing than waking in the morning to the sound of horses’ hooves clipping along the road. Mariana will set out a nice breakfast of fresh eggs, cheese and jam before heading off for the village school where she teaches French and her husband serves as principal and biology teacher. If I need anything, her parents are in their ground-level living quarters or drawing water from the front yard well or puttering in the multi-hued garden.

Lingering over coffee, I plan my day. I could remain in “my” village, Oncesti, reading for a while on the balcony before setting off for a leisurely stroll. Or perhaps I should visit the valtoare in neighboring Vadu Izei where women are sure to be scrubbing their hand-woven carpets and wooly vests and jackets before tossing them into wooden vats where river water, diverted along sluices, tumbles with such force it creates whirlpools, a bit of peasant technology that is surely the precursor of today’s washing machine. Maybe I’ll hop in the car and revisit favorite churches with their multi-gabled roofs, soaring steeples and in some instances, interior frescoes. I can go to Sighet and wander once again through its fine ethnographic museum filled with traditional costumes and festival masks or the outdoor museum where houses and other dwellings have been reassembled from around the county. Of course, I can always consult Vasile, who is ever ready to suggest a new road or village, a particularly fine roadside cross, or the home of an icon painter or carpet weaver.

Whatever I choose, I’ll end the day with one of Mariana’s good dinners, yet another look around her “traditional room” with its myriad array of embroidered scarves, hand-woven carpets and painted ceramic plates, and a good night’s sleep lulled by gentle mountain breezes.

Dintr-un Lemn, a Monastery Home

Dintr-un Lemn, situated in a wooded area of south-central Romania, is a monastery filled with happy nuns. And why not be happy? The setting is lovely, their church rich in history, and their days spent tending gardens of vegetables and flowers, looking after the farm animals, painting icons, and worshiping surrounded by natural and manmade beauty. Of course, there are visitors to show around and the occasional overnight tourist to attend to, but the sisters seem pleased to share their home and to exchange conversation and ideas.

The name Dintr-un Lemn means “from one piece of wood.” An old story says that a shepherd was sitting by an oak tree when a holy vision appeared, asking him to build a church from that very tree. This he did. The little church was destroyed by fire, but rebuilt in the early 1800s, equivalent to the original in size and beauty.

A two-story white guesthouse opened in the summer of 1999, just in time to house tourists who flocked to Romania for that year’s total eclipse of the sun. The area around Dintr-un Lemn was the exact epicenter of totality. Flowers surround the exterior and line the red-carpeted walkways leading to guest rooms. And red carpet treatment is what you can expect here. While the nuns respect their guests’ privacy, they remain quick with a smile and friendly greeting or to offer an apple or plate of freshly baked cookies.

A number of Romania’s more than 2,000 Orthodox monasteries accept overnight guests. However, conditions in many are quite Spartan. Not at Dintr-un Lemn. First floor guest rooms are doubles, each with a private bath. Fabrics on beds, chairs and windows tend toward soft pink and pearl gray. Rooms have nice carpets, wall sconces and amble closet space. Designed for groups, second floor rooms each house four single beds, a table, nicely upholstered chairs and a sink. Just down the hall, the bath has a tub, two showers and toilets.

Perhaps you’re thinking that this all sounds very nice but exactly what does a person DO at a monastery? The simple answer is exactly what you would do when staying in any other type of accommodation. It’s not expected that you’ll attend services although if you’ve never experienced the haunting beauty of an Orthodox service with its magnificent singing, this is the perfect place. A number of interesting and important monasteries lie within a 30- or 40-mile radius of Dintr-un Lemn --- Surpatele, Bistrita, Arnota, Govora and Horezu, to name a few. The latter boasts vivid paintings on the porch walls, beginning with gentle images of birds and trees and culminating in a damnation scene where flames stream from the mouth of a ferocious beast, entrapping dismembered people while demons plot further tortures. 

I never tired of roaming the grounds around Dintr-un Lemn, pausing many times to admire the serenity of the bisericuta (little church) or to chat with the friendly nuns. I examined more closely the precious icons of wood or glass and the unusual iconostasis made of linden wood carved in a grapevine pattern. At each meal, Maica Inocentia, a warm, intelligent English-speaking nun to whom I soon felt quite close, joined me. One day at lunch, the Mother Superior, Maica Stareta Emanuila Oprea, stopped by to take a glass of wine, homemade in a nearby village, with us. When I commented on the relaxed, almost casual demeanor of the nuns, she laughed, exclaiming, “But it’s normal!” and pantomimed that even nuns needn’t go about all the time in serious prayer.

When I left, there were hugs all around, the Mother Superior’s so strong, it lifted me off the ground (no easy feat). Dintr-un Lemn and its happy nuns are very special, indeed.

Hotel Tirol, a Mountain Retreat

Less than three hours’ drive from Bucharest, Romania’s capital, lies the country’s premier ski and summer resort center, Poiana Brasov. Totally non-athletic types also love the place for its fir-covered mountains, equally lovely whether grass- or snow-covered, its many interesting restaurants and its proximity to the city of Brasov, which claims a well-preserved medieval core. Once I discovered Hotel Tirol, Poiana Brasov exerted an even stronger pull on my travels.

Opened in 1999, this small chalet-style hotel reflects its joint Romanian/Swiss proprietorship. Each guest room boasts an individual décor, featuring white wood furnishings and other light touches. Balconies offer mountain vistas, as does the glass-walled restaurant. Some suites have a duplex lay-out with large work areas and whirlpool baths, while the top-of-the-line royal suite has its own fireplace fronted by green marble, a well-stocked bar topped by a large revolving globe and both a Jacuzzi tub and circular, glass-enclosed Jacuzzi shower. In winter, the lobby’s white, wood-burning fireplace welcomes skiers home from the slopes.

Another welcoming spot, any time of day, is the Tirol’s restaurant. Management prides itself on its kitchen and wine list. Although the leather embossed menu presents everything from caviar and smoked salmon to a variety of meat, poultry and fish dishes plus luscious desserts, it notes that the maitre d’hotel “stays at your disposal” for any special request. Depending on the number of guests, breakfast (included in the room rate) is either a lavish buffet or a la carte. Each morning, when I was sure I couldn’t eat one more bite, a waiter would appear with an irresistible plate of breakfast cakes, insisting, “Won’t you please try one?” Naturally, I did.

While I’m quite content to take all my meals at the Tirol, it would be a shame to miss two of Romania’s most famous traditional restaurants: Coliba Haiducilor (Outlaws’ Hut) and Sura Dacilor (Dacians’ Shed), both in Poiana Brasov. The décor could be termed upscale rustic, with walls sporting strings of garlic and peppers, masks and animal pelts while wooly sheepskins cover the carved wooden chairs and stools. Waiters don traditional dress and folk musicians entertain evenings. Menu items include game and other meat dishes, traditional sour soups, cheeses and fresh vegetables.

Seasonal sports abound: hiking, mountain biking, horseback riding, skiing, snowboarding and ice-skating. Poiana Brasov also serves as a good base for visits to several important attractions. A 15-minute drive or bus ride leads to Brasov, which during the Middle Ages, was a rich, predominantly Saxon city devoted to trade. Its old section, centered around Piata Sfatului, is a major tourist draw. In and around this large cobblestone square stand the history museum, housed in a 15^th century council house, and the Black Church, so named for the still soot-blackened walls caused by a 17^th century fire. Inside the church are a marvelous collection of Turkish carpets, gifts from long-ago merchants, and a 4,000-pipe organ. Shops and restaurants with outdoor terraces line the square. The remains of Brasov’s medieval fortifications overlook the city. An easy drive to the southwest brings you to Bran Castle, hyped (not exactly truthfully) as Dracula’s Castle, but imposing, nonetheless, with its ramparts, towers and medieval accouterments. Just north of Brasov are wonderful fortified churches in the towns of Harman and Prejmer.

I can think of few better endings to a memorable day than returning to the Tirol, where a warm greeting, a fine dinner and a lingering image of sparkling stars and a brilliant moon illuminating the mountains guarantee the happiest of dreams.

Contact Information:

Casa Bud. Mariana and Vasile Bud. Str. Principala 335. Cod 4932. Oncesti, Jud. Maramures, Romania. Tel: (011) 40-262-331-322. E-mail: BudMariana@yahoo.com. Mariana and Vasile’s home has six bedrooms and two full baths exclusively for tourists. Cost is $12 per person, including two meals. Mariana speaks enough English for tourists’ needs to be met.

Dintr-un Lemn Monastery. Cod 1013. Com. Francesti, Jud. Valcea, Romania. Tel: (011) 40-250-765-224. Ask for Maica Inocentia, who speaks English. Rates are $40 per person for a room with two beds and a private bath and $25 per person for four-bed rooms with shared bath, including three meals. It is not necessary to take all meals at the monastery.

Hotel Tirol. Cod 2209. Poiana Brasov, Jud. Brasov, Romania. Tel: (011) 40-268-262-453. Fax: (011) 40-268-262-439. E-mail: tirol@rdslink.ro. Rates are $72 single, $96 to $105 double, $200 to $280 for suites; prices include breakfast. All reception and restaurant staff speak English.

Note: When calling from within Romania, add 0 before the three-digit regional area code.

Tour Operators: Due to language differences, it might be easier to make reservations through a Romanian tour operator. The following can be recommended:

Accent Travel & Events. E-mail: lboronea@xnet.ro. Web: www.accenttravel.ro.

Atlantic Tour. E-mail: office@atlantic.ro. Web: www.atlantic.ro.

Romantic Travel. E-mail: romantic@fx.ro. Web: www.romantic.ro.

Romanian National Tourist Office. 14 East 38^th St., 12^th floor. New York, NY 10016. Tel: (212) 545-8484. Fax: (212) 251-0429. E-mail: ronto@erols.com. Web: www.romaniatourism.com.

Images by Joyce Dalton

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