Getting stuck in Braşov

Braşov has proofed somewhat a trap as a stop-over location on my trip to the warm south. An area rich in history and with interesting architecture, mountains to climb and a very friendly hostel owner couple that is just waiting to tell you all about Romanian history and culture, I couldn't bring myself to leave after just a couple of days but stayed here for the last 9 days, trying to sample everything there is. To get back on schedule I now will have to have a very short stay in Bucharest.

View over Braşov's old town with its huge "Black Church" and the old town hall.

On Tuesday I went to see the Bran and Râşnov castles. Bran castle is tiny and picturesque and its association with Vlad Tepeş, better known as Dracula (Dracula translates as son of Dracul, and his father was Vlad Dracul (engl: Vlad the Dragon) the duke of Wallachia at his time) creates a lot of hype. I had decided not to visit the castle at the weekend in order to avoid the tourist crowds – and this part actually worked out pretty well – but what I had not considered is that all the local stray dogs could focus on just me and challenge me for my lunch. I had just gotten one of my home-made sandwiches out and before even managing one bite I found myself cornered by three of these Romanian “community dogs”. I didn't want to risk getting bitten, so I sacrificed one of my sandwiches and then walked off quickly. Next time I will check my vicinity more carefully for these buggers before getting any food out!

Râşnov castle is a massive fortress sitting on top of a mountain and thus has a very different character compared to Bran. It was temporarily closed when I got there on my way back from Bran but, resorting to scrambling, I still managed to get to the side facing the town and was able to enjoy the grand view.

Overlooking snow-covered Râşnov from the fortress. Our day time temperatures this week were around -10, and one night it even plummeted below -30 degrees.

Another of my day trips took me all the way to Biertan, one of the most important Saxon villages in Transylvania. It took a couple of train rides and hitches to reach the place, including two rides on horse carts, and so getting there and back was at least as exciting as visiting the village. Nowadays there are only few Saxons still living in Transylvania. Starting during the communist times, most of them left for Germany due to the discrimination by the Romanian state. But the Saxons are not the only ones who have left the country. In my conversations here I have learnt that the Romanians have given up on believing in economical and political change. People here talk about the revolution in 1989, but even 20 years later nothing really has changed since then other than people getting more and more frustrated. If people have an opportunity to leave the country, they will do so in order to escape corruption and poverty. This whole state of affair got sumed up for me in one sad looking scene where a station chief waved off our train, standing under a dirty, half torn Rumanian flag. After 20 years of frustration nobody seems to care any more.

Peasants with their horse carts - a common sight outside Romania's cities

The impressive fortified church of Biertan, you can see it from miles away

Statistics:
km travelled this year: 1700
cheapest 1/2l beer in a bar: 0.75Euro
dog bites: 0
friendly and helpful Romanians: lost count

A very pleasant stop-over in Budapest and entering Romania

Arriving at Budapest the first thing I did was get some Hungarian Forint from a cash machine. I was stupid enough to go for a nice round figure, 5000HUF, which came out as one single note. The exchange office didn't want to change my note into smaller value denominations because they wouldn't be earning a commission on this service. Just in front of the exchange office some dodgy looking guys were hanging around, they too were into the money exchange business. I was sure they had watched me and when I was approached by one of them I indicated that I already had sufficient funds and merely interested in smaller notes. With this knowledge I assumed the guy would just leave me alone, but he insisted on helping me. That was rather surprising since again, he would not be able to earn a dime on me, unless he is into cheating, and this made him even more suspicious. Aware of the situation I decided to be extra alert and went along and followed him to a snack shop in the station hall. He talked to the shop owner about my money problem, and seconds later I held five 1000HUF notes in my hand. The money tout just smiled at me and walked back to his spot outside the exchange office. This all was too good to be true, I thought, and started inspecting my new notes, wondering if I had become victim of a counterfeit money scam. The notes however looked alright to me and everyone accepted them without a second look. Appearances can be so deceptive!

After this first bit of excitement it was time to go and look for my host Ági who had offered to pick me up from the station. Just before arriving in Budapest I had sent a message to her, explaining she could recognise me on my blue coat and the head scarf. I was lurking around in the station hall, scanning the faces of every woman for reactions to my presence. After a minute or two I spotted a girl with a wide friendly smile and she was heading straight for me. My gut feeling told me this must be Ági, and this time my gut feeling was right!

For the next two days Ági and her friend Peter made me welcome in their house like I have been a long-time friend. They live outside Budapest in the small town of Alsónémedi, where almost every house seemed to have a nice garden and often feature a small vineyard. The next morning I took a local bus into Budapest and sorted out my onward ticket to Brasov, Romania for the day after. Without any fixed arrangements for the remainder of the day (they only thing clear was I would stay for a second night) I used the time to visit Budapest's Memento Park, a open air museum where the “remains of communist dictatorship”, the statues from Hungary's communist period are on display. In the evening I headed back to Alsónémedi and found out that Peter's parents were expecting us for dinner. It was cold outside and the roads icy so we took Peter's car for what seemed not more than 1km journey, skidding through the streets. At his parents a big pot of goulash with galuska (Hungarian style gnocci) awaited us. However, before you start the meal it is custom to have a shot of palinka to boost your appetite. When I was getting ready for my second serving of goulash Peter signalled that there are two more dishes waiting to be sampled, and so I made it a small portion. The next dish up was paprikás krumpli, a dish made from potatoes and spicy sausage, flavoured with lots of paprika. This was followed by túrós tészta, a dish made from cottage cheese and pasta. I put a portion on my plate and Peter's dad mixed it for me with the right amount of sour cream, salt and sugar. This last dish didn't feature any paprika and did a great job in reducing the heat in my mouth. Before we left for home Peter's mum made me a big lunch pack for my long journey to Brasov. Starting with the palinka, the wine, pickled paprikas and even the spicy sausage in the potato dish, everything served that night was home-made. The language barrier made direct communication with Peter's parents difficult, but I hope they could feel from my body language how much I appreciated their hospitality.

I was pretty much the only visitor at the Memento park. The cold and snowy weather just added to the feeling that no one is missing the old communist relicts.

This T-shirt is being sold at the Memento Park, and for those in doubt, it made absolutely clear that Memento Park is not about romanticizing the old commuist days.

After a long feast of Hungarian home-made food and drinks

The next morning Peter's dad came by the house. He was on his way to Budapest for work and he gave me a ride back to the Keleti train station, where Ági had picked me up two days ago. In these last two days I felt fully submerged in local life and culture, something you don't find – at least not to the same extent – when you stay at hostels. I still haven't used couch-surfing yet, but I got the feeling that I shouldn't wait much longer and start writing couple of emails to potential hosts.

On Tuesday morning I board the IC 435 which provides a direct connection between Budapest and Bucarest. The train was virtually empty but this changed when we get closer to the Hungarian-Romanian border. In Békéscsaba the platform was bustling with Romanian traders who had come over to Hungary to buy cheap supplies. Every single one seemed to have at least 20 large shopping bags. As soon as the train had come to a halt they started rushing to the doors. They only had 3 minutes to get all their stuff on the train and it was a mad display of people running back and forth between the train doors and their bag depots on the platform. A few of the guys must have been through this ordeal before, they had organised a cart for their bags and so they could just bring them all up to the doors in one go. The final stop in Hungary is Lökösháza, no one boarded there but the Hungarian police came through the train checking passports of every one. I had to hand mine to a female border police officer with an excessive amount on make-up in her face. She stared at me for what seemed like minutes, checking if my face matched the photograph in my passport, and then went on to inspect every single page of my passport before she was pleased. A little bit further down the track at our first stop in Romania the Romanian police came through the train but these guys were way more relaxed, the passport check only took seconds.

Thanks to the generousity of my Hungarian hosts I got to enjoy this for lunch whilst waiting for the border crossing formalities to complete.

Entering Romania from the north-west, I was shocked about the sudden change of how everything looked. There were tons of derelict factories and abandoned company yards, and everything that had not yet been abandoned looked like it is going to collapse any time soon. There was garbage everywhere and instead of seeing tractors on the fields farmers used horses and carts. I remember thinking that passing the border felt like entering a different world, a world hard to believe to be a member of the EU. In Arad, the first Romanian city that we passed, two Romanians joined me in my compartment. Minutes later we were already discussing the poverty (the average income is 200€, but many prices match or even exceed those back home) and corruption issues of Romania, and with a few short interruptions and changing passengers this discussion only ended 7 hours later when I arrived at my destination, Brasov. For the next few days this would be my travel base for exploring Transylvania (German: Siebenbürgen), an area influence by German settlers that followed an invitation by the Hungarian king in the 12th century to inhabit these lands.

The very first stop in Romania, things still looked pretty "normal" here...

...but further down the track this was a much more common display.

Getting to Budapest

It is Sunday morning and I already managed to get to Dresden. I am waiting for the EC171 train. Coming from Berlin, it will take me via Praha and Bratislava to Budapest, my first stop on the way to the Middle East. The train is very spacious and virtually empty and I check whether I accidentally boarded a 1st class coach. I am happy when I find that I am indeed in 2nd class and that I had not bothered with a seat reservation. If you can plan at least three days ahead, it is amazing how little you pay for these international train connections. The whole 815km from Dresden to Budapest only cost me 29€! The first section of the 9 hour journey is particularly scenic because the train follows the river Elbe which is cutting its way through the Elbsandsteingebirge.

Part of my travel gear is a portable fridge. It really is just a vacuum flask in which I stick a frozen gel-pack, but it does the job of providing cooling for my temperature sensitive medication rather well. About half way through my journey I head down to the restaurant cart, hoping that they have a freezer in which I can recharge the gel-pack. After some gesturing I manage to convince the guy in the cooking section that my flask is not a bomb but a device that my health depends on and he is happy to help me with my cooling problem.

Despite an engine problem somewhere in the Czech Republic we arrive with only 30 minutes delay in Budapest. Here at the station I will meet up with Ági, a friend of a good friend who was kind enough to invite me to stay with her for a couple of days before pushing on south into Romania.

For most of the 9 hours of the train ride I had all this space to myself.

Although the only goal of this first leg was getting to Budapest, taking the day train meant I got to fully enjoy the nice scenery along the way.

Picking up my route again

After my time in Poland I managed to do a bit more traveling in Hungary and Slovenia, but after just four weeks some domestic affairs made me opt for another short interruption of my vagabonding experience. Without being fully in control of matters, that short interruption turned into quite a long break from what I actually had planed on doing.

Early December it finally looked as if I could start traveling again. But I had a problem now. More than two months had passed and the outlook of snow and ice made me wonder whether picking up my trail in Slovenia and meandering from there via Ex-Yugoslavia into Transylvania (which was my original idea for continuing) still made sense. So I got a map and some climate charts and after some studying I decided I should instead concentrate on Turkey and the Middle East. Using public transport to get there, I could choose my route and still see a bit of, at least, Romania and Bulgaria before reaching Turkey, and it would also link this forthcoming vagabonding episode geographically to my travels from last year.

I started with some travel research, sent my passport off for a Syrian visa (apparently Jordan and Lebanon issue visa on entry), bought my first digital version of a Lonely Planet guide (being able to do a text search is just fantastic!) and then, just after getting my passport back the snowy road conditions forced me of my bicycle (thanks to a rather daft maneuver on my part). To cut it short, I managed to injure my foot and this meant I had to wait another couple of weeks before backpacking became an option again. But this latest delay also had a positive side; I got to spend a few days around New Year with a bunch of close friends and we had a truly awesome time.

And this takes me to the presence: I am fully eager to get going, my foot has sufficiently recovered, I am half packed and have one more day to sort the final bits and pieces. On Sunday I'll catch a train to Budapest, and from there I'll get another one to Romania. I have planed to spend a few nights there and in Bulgaria, before heading to Istanbul and beyond. Depending on how things go I will visit at least Syria, Lebanon and Jordan and then return home in April and start looking for work.

Some impressions from Hungary...

Boat spotters, or more likely they are just enjoying the view over Budapest ;)


Delicious local wines and foods at the annual Budapest wine festival. It venues in the castle grounds which just adds to the whole experience. The Tokaj was a wee bit sweet for my liking, although the pickles made more than up for it.



No matter what age, many Hungarians still mourn the loss of land that came with the peace treaties after WWI & WWII.



...and some impressions from Slovenia: with emerald-green rivers and high soaring mountains it is a paradise for outdoor lovers...



In the mountain resort of Bled I came across this vending machine for, you guessed it right, MILK! You can choose between small and large bottles and you even get to fill them yourself!

History lessons in Poland

OK, that has been a very long period of silence. No, the sailing boat I went on did not get lost in some mysterious fog, I actually got sidetracked on my detour to Poland. I spent three weeks there, trying to educate myself most of the time, but then after heading back to Slovakia I had to interrupt my travels due to some health issues. And somehow I didn't find the time to write about those amazing three weeks in Poland... until now! Health wise it is looking good again and I am about to hit the road again.

Originally I had not even planed going into Poland on my trip. But when I learnt that my friends from back home were going there for a sailing trip I thought it would make a welcome change to living in hostels. Money wise it didn't cost much to go there from Slovakia anyway and renting a sailing boat - even one that sleeps 6-8 people - is pretty cheap in Poland, too. And so I was off to Poland's Masurian Lake District. I had been there sailing with my friends before a couple of times, but we still haven't got tired of the place because every time we go there the boat is a different one, we go on different lakes and we meet new but always friendly and hospitable people.

After a long drive into East-Poland it is BOARDING TIME!

Besides of being a beautiful and unspoilt area, one where you can camp wild and make fires all year round, the Masurian Lake area is also rich in history. The Wolf's Liar (Wolfsschanze) is there, once one of Adolf Hitler's headquarters and now a large open air museum that tells the story of Stauffenberg's attempted assassination on Hitler.

Thanks to a slight onshore breeze our fire lasted almost 20 hours!

When stopping at a private landing place our whole crew got invited for dinner by these friendly folks.

We had visited Wolf's Liar already during an earlier sailing trip in the Masurian Lakes, so we were ready to see something new this year. Our sailing map indicated an isolated bunker not too far from one of the landing places and so we stopped there early one afternoon, took our map, locked up the boat and went into the forest where the bunker was supposed to be. We didn't stay long. There were squillions of hungry mosquitoes waiting for us and we had no choice but to abort our little “Indiana Jones” adventure. World War 2 became a topic again at the end of the sailing trip when we went to Bialystok, the home town of our captain. We met up with one of his friends for the evening and this guy turned out to be an expert on war machinery. It was very interesting, and at the same time bizarre, to be taught by this young Polish surgeon about the deficiency of Germany's World War 2 tanks (they run on synthetic fuel which had high production costs and gave low mileage, and Russian diesel supplies could not be utilised and also the tank tracks were too narrow to manoeuvre safely on the often soft and soggy ground in the eastern terrains).

Stopping for the night

On the way back to Germany I asked my friends to drop me off in Warsaw. The “tank expert” had recommended to visit the Warsaw Rising museum there (not to be confused with the rising in the Jewish ghetto) and that is what I was going to do. After asking a few people I managed to find it and during the following four hours I learnt not only about the activities and crimes commited by Nazi-Germany there, but also the merciless and self-interested conduct of the Soviets to secure freed territories for themselves and establish a communist government in Poland. Before I started my trip I had no particular interest in history and so all the knowledge I did have was based on my East-German education, which of course had presented a very single-sided analysis of the Soviet role in the liberation of Europe from the Nazis.

When I arrived at my hostel that night I discovered the fabulous “Use-It” city guide to Warsaw, which did a great job in selling the city and gave good background information to the various sites. I also was still moved by the faith of the city during the war that I had just learnt about in the museum, and so I decided that Warsaw deserved more than just a couple of days and I booked a whole week at the hostel. The following days I walked up and down on Warsaw's streets, explored cemeteries, bazaars, communist style eateries and the few houses that were not destroyed during the war. Then came the weekend and I was invited to stay with the sister of the captain from my sailing trip, and her husband. And once more I was spoilt by Polish hospitality (thank you again for the fantastic time!). During conversations with my hosts it became apparent that I had managed to discover a few spots in Warsaw unknown to them, and they were also surprised that I had managed to enjoy Warsaw for a whole week. But that wasn't too much of a surprise because as it turned out, they both had not grown up in Warsaw but had moved there because of the good work opportunities, rather than being attracted by the city itself. The funny side of all this was that, whilst walking with them through the city, I realised how much I had missed out on because I don't speak Polish and I also didn't know half as much about Polish history as those two. And so the weekend was a true pleasure.

Shrines like this can be found in many courtyards of house that have survived World War 2. People erected them to help them endure the years of war and terror.

The Palace of culture and science, also known as Stalin's wedding cake, is an “offspring” of Moscow's “Seven daughters of Stalin” skyscraper and used to symbolise Russian domination.

Quality food for almost nothing at a communist style eatery: people cueing with their receipts at the food outlet.

Traditional Polish food: sour soup with egg and sausage and a fruity drink

Visiting one of the many parks...

The rooftop of the university library features a garden, inviting everyone to wander around and enjoy the view.

From Warsaw I went back to Slovakia with just one short stop in Krakov in order to visit Auschwitz from there. Some people that I have met since going to Auschwitz were quite clear that they don't want to go to such a horrible place; they said they know what happened there during World War 2 and hence there is no need to go there. My motivation for going there was driven by the question of how a place like this was able to exist and function. How could it get so far that the Nazis were able to kill millions of people in camps like Auschwitz, and what had happened to the people “working” in these camps to be actually able to commit these atrocities? Because, at some point, they all must have started out their lives as innocent children, right? Three days in a row I went to Auschwitz. One day alone I spent on the main exhibition where I read a lot of the original German language orders and decrees that were on display and another whole day was spent on the Dutch exhibition, one of the many “national exhibitions”, which told from the faith of the Dutch Jews during the war. Looking back at history, these national exhibitions made the strategy of the Nazis regarding the Jews transparent: identification, registration, marking of identification papers, night-time curfew, setting up of ghettos, confiscation of businesses and assets, occupational ban, requiring them to wear the yellow star and then arrest followed by deportation and extermination.


Visiting Auschwitz also was a very bizarre experience. For most people it seems to be just another stop on their sightseeing trip through Europe. They spend couple of hours rushing through the main exhibition, they peek through doors and windows and glance over posters, and amazingly many pose under the infamous “Arbeit macht frei” entrance gate to have their picture taken by friends, before they all are picked up again by their buses. And so many a time it felt like being at a tourist attraction rather than a memorial site. Despite of this, at the end of the three days at Auschwitz I had the feeling that I had found some answers to my questions and I was ready to go back to Slovakia and continue my trip.


New on board since those three weeks in Poland is an increased interest in European history and I am looking forward to pursue this interest further now that I am starting to travel again.

Seeing and learning more whilst spending less

I left Bratislava in mid May and spent the following few days in the Mala Fatra National Park, exercising my legs walking from mountain hut to mountain hut, enjoying great views and the fresh air on desolated trails (because it was still early in the season). The huts are perfect for long distance hiking; they offer very affordable accommodation starting at around 5Euro if you bring your own sleeping bag and serve up superb food.

...following a ridge trail through the Mala Fatras...

...and enjoying a delicious cabbage soup in a mountain hut at the end of the day. It has become my favourite soup so far and I sample it where ever I get a chance, though it has never been quite as tasty as in that Mala Fatra mountain hut.

Later I moved on to Zdiar, a small Slovak village in the Tatra mountains. I was attracted to the Tatras because they climb up to about 2600m and promised some alpine hiking experiences. When I arrived at the Ginger Monkey Hostel in Zdiar, I thought I'll stay for about one week and do a couple of hikes before heading south into Hungary. However, Jim, the owner of the hostel also had some plans... After some chatting with him I found myself with the offer to run the hostel for couple of days so that he could go off to pursue another project. I was sitting on the hostel's sun deck with a bottle of beer in my hand, thought about it for 15 minutes and then took up his offer. I thought that working at this hostel would leave me with plenty of spare time to finally get on with some reading that I had been meaning to do ever since I started traveling and also catch up with replying to emails. I moved from the dorm into a private room, did a nice hike that involved crossing through many steep snowfields and spent the rest of the weekend relaxing and then started work on Monday. Towards the end of the next week I noticed that I had sort of developed a routine in cleaning the place, doing the laundry, showing guests around etc, so I decided to work for another week and use that newly developed efficiency to really get on with some reading. Besides, I also realised that hostel work was a good way to prolong and intensify my travel experiences. I had a free accommodation, free beer, a couple of days off per week to pursue my own interests and I was located right at the edge of the High Tatras with an awesome view of the still snow-clad mountain summits.

Contemplating about starting hostel work

Spending some quality time on the Ginger Monkey's sun deck...

...and enjoying the mountain view.

After about five weeks of staying at the Ginger Monkey it felt like I had been stationary for long enough and it was time to start traveling again. I did more in the area than any regular guest, including a superb hike along the Tatra border ridge between Poland and Slovakia, some canoeing and I soaked in hot water for a whole day in a nearby water spa centre. However, I didn't manage to finish either of my books and that despite the fact that there was probably only 3-5h of work on an average day. The problem is that the work is distributed quite randomly over the day, like checking people in and out, getting the laundry in when it starts raining, helping guests with planing their day activities... so unless there are two people to share the work between, you are kind of always on call which is less than ideal when it comes to reading something. Another interesting experience was that you have to learn to relax when working at a hostel. An example: You clean the kitchen, do the dishes, dry everything up and put it away, sweep the floor and all that and then, five minutes later, someone decides to bake a cake for everyone to share. Yummy, I love cake - and the kitchen is back in a mess in no time. Most people do make an effort and clean up after themselves, but there is always something that gets left behind, and that will encourage other guests to be that little bit more sloppy as well. So you can try to talk to your guests about it but depending on your verbal skills that might create an atmosphere where people think they are being watched all the time, you can keep cleaning, every minute of every hour, because if you look hard enough you will always find something that needs cleaning, or you set yourself some priorities that result in a reasonable level of cleanliness and still have some energy left to enjoy that piece of cake that someone just made for you. Being a perfectionist that was a tough one to get to terms with!

Even in the summer season there is still a lot of snow to conquer in the mountains

Skywalk on Lomnicky Stit at about 2600m. It was bloody freezing up there - always bring a spare jumper when visiting the High Tatras!

Entertaining our guest with BBQ's

The most valuable “thing” I am taking with me from my six weeks stay at the Ginger Monkey hostel are a few conversations with some of the guests. I met so many people there that you don't have a choice but keep conversations to a superficial but friendly level with most people. And that is OK, it happens automatically and is probably some kind of self-protection mechanism. But then, every once in a while you meet someone very charismatic, or well-traveled or just someone who you get on with extremely well and you make a connection. I will not forget Chuck's analysis of why Germans, of all people, picked up the Stanford Prison Experiment that he participated in, and made a movie about it (Das Experiment) exploring how a system makes generally good people turn into bad people. Another highly interesting encounter was that with Matt and Jai who have travelled extensively. Well, to be fair, they actually live for it. They have had so many adventures, and many of them were the result of giving away control, like what you do when you hitch hike and allow chance creep into your daily routine and at the same time you get so much closer to the locals of a country. Ever since meeting them I wonder how I want to continue my trip...

One of the many communal meals at the hostel - nice group effort, guys!

Exchanging experiences and ideas and planning the next move...

Well, for now I am looking forward to do some sailing. I left the Ginger Monkey and the Tatras on June 24 to meet up with some friends to go to the Great Masurian Lake District in North-east Poland and spend a week there living on a small sailing boat. After that week I will continue with my backpacking trip.

Planing the next stop - Slovakia part 2

Towards the end of my stay in Bratislava I felt the need to see some countryside for a change. A friend had recommended to visit the Mala Fatra National Park and I also always wanted to see the Tatra mountains in the Eastern part of Slovakia. Some planing became necessary and so I spent the best part of my last day in Bratislava on the internet, checking out bus and train schedules, availability of mountain huts, onward connections from the Mala Fatra area to the Tatra mountains and accommodation options in the Tatras. It is the sort of planing I have to do every time I move to a new location. That, together with the fact that every time I move I have to check that I have packed everything, get up early with the help of my alarm to catch an early bus, make sure I find my connecting buses on time, make those periods of traveling quite stressful. So far that has resulted I in a travel pattern where I make just a few stops per country but stay more than just a couple of days in each place, unlike most other travellers – and that seems a pretty nice balance of quantity and quality so far.

Some impressions from moving through Slovakia...

Making the most from the space: rolling timetables

People inside a train station, waiting for the platform to be announced. For some strange reason they are announced only couple of minutes before the train arrives.