ParadiseUK /ˈpær.ə.daɪs/US /ˈper.ə.daɪs/
a place or condition of great happiness where everything is exactly as you would like it to be.
Welcome to Romania!
The city which is not actually a city. With roughly 1600 inhabitants and one single road (barely enough attributes for it to be considered anything other than a small-ish village in many other nations), I wonder why Romania has such a special affection for Băile Tușnad, as to consider it the smallest city in the whole country! Despite its size, Băile comes with a few surprises:
- The town is almost engulfed by nature! Located in a valley, everywhere you look there are endless hills covered in thick forest, giving you the purest and freshest air you can breathe;
- Its mineral waters are also proven to have healing properties, especially for those with heart diseases… Whether you seek treatment or not, make sure to spend at least an afternoon in the thermal spa!
- Bears! Yes, you read it right – BEARS! Being a natural sanctuary, don’t be surprised if you come across bears roaming around the town, particularly late in the evening, fetching for food in the trash cans… Estimates say that there are over 6000 bears wandering in Romanian forests. If you are really eager to go on a late evening hiking, don’t. Better safe than sorry.
- Every street sign is written in both Romanian and Hungarian… Reasons: only in 1947 this area became, once and for all, part of Romania. Before it was most of the time in the hands of (you guessed it!) Hungary! Nowadays around 90% of Tușnad’s population is still Hungarian.
Back to the top. Took me two flights to get to Bucharest. After an horrific train ride from Bucharest, without an assigned seat, hence having me travelling for over 4 hours standing up with other fellow passengers, I arrived pretty strained to the town that would have me for the upcoming week.
Things did get better though.
I got to spend 10 days exploring my body (no hidden meaning here!) and senses through various activities, both indoor and outdoor, and other holistic methodologies, facilitated by experienced trainers. Every morning began with something called the harvesting circle – a safe space for people to share their heart’s out and also reflect upon their learning. It set the mood and atmosphere for the days to unravel in a peaceful manner. My personal highlight of this experience was having the chance to co-facilitate a training session along with some of my fellow colleagues. We came up with a workshop that required the involvement of the 5 senses and guided the participants on a sensory journey through Băile Tușnad.
The cute and charming historical centre is enough to leave you hooked! Look for its heart, Piaţa Sfatului, bustling with locals and tourists alike. Unlike Băile Tușnad, this is an actual city in all its essence, where you can find beautiful medieval buildings alongside an Hollywoodesque sign atop the hill, to remind you that you are indeed in Brașov.
Besides wandering around the city, I also took an afternoon to go to Bran, a small town not far away, which is well-known for one single monument: Dracula’s Castle. Full disclosure: huge disappointment. Too many visitors for such tight quarters, as we basically queuing all the way through various rooms, corridors, stairs and balconies, hoping to feel the presence of Dracula along the way.
Dracula’s father, the Irish writer Bram Stoker (who never actually visited Romania), depicted the character’s castle as “… on the very edge of a terrific precipice… with occasionally a deep rift where there is a chasm [with] silver threads where the rivers wind in deep gorges through the forests.”. In all of Transylvania it is surprisingly the only castle that actually fits his description. A dubious story that ultimately created a perfect tourist trap.
Money was tight and I still had a few more days of adventure, so I decided to resort to hitchhiking as my main way of transportation.
I had read that Romania was a hitchhiker’s paradise. Friendly and curious people willing to give rides without much thinking, meaning less time thumbing up. And not many highways, so cars have to travel through the national roads, making it easier to catch a lift.
With all these things in mind, my hopes were high up there… But things usually never go as you want, right?
I placed myself on the main road heading out of the city, with plenty of space for cars to stop. A sign in one hand and my finger up in the other. Expected it to last a few minutes, half an hour in the worst-case scenario.
I ended up stranded for more than an hour, seemingly invisible to the drivers passing by.
Eventually it paid off. A middle aged university professor on its way home was kind enough to stop for me. We got along easily and conversation happened naturally: politics, economics, psychology… we had enough time to cover it all.
Once I nurtured myself with a bowl of soup at a roadside restaurant, I walked to the intersection with the road heading towards the mountains. Soon I was being driven up the mountains. The local couple who took me had previous experience in helping other hitchhikers. Despite having been there multiple times before, they told me that the experience was always magical. Eventually we made it to the top and we went our separate ways.
Journey distance: 134 km
One of the world’s most famous roads has one of the strangest spellings. Built upon a dream of an egomaniac man, Ceaușescu, construction only lasted fours years (1970-1974), which is quite impressive given the region’s orography.
What as meant to be a fast and reliable way for the military to cross the Carpathian Mountains during the Communist time, ended up becoming an exciting destination on its own. Petrolheads probably have heard about Transfăgărășan from Jeremy Clarkson himself (former host of the British TV series Top Gear), who proclaimed it “the best road in the world”.
I had planned on wild camping at the top of Transfăgărășan, by one of its lakes, but the weather was freezing cold. As I didn’t pack that many warm clothes I thought it would be wiser to go back down and find lodging somewhere. Decided to go to Sibiu. Wrote it on a piece of cardboard and put my thumb up.
Going uphill traffic was plentiful so people driving up faced me with a curious smirk… (there’s no other way for me to put it).
It didn’t take many more inquiring looks before a car stopped for me. Inside, a young couple with their baby. The car was packed to the fullest so I had to take all of my belongings with me in the front seat (which was actually on the left side). The father, who was making a living in the UK, had came back for summer holidays to be with his family and they were now returning home after a couple of days spent at the seaside town of Constanța. My plans to stop in Sibiu were soon scrapped as I made my way to Alba Iulia, their home.
Journey distance: 154 km
A dull and soulless star-shaped citadel… The silver living is that I got to relax for a couple of days, wandering around the perfectly manicured walled city. Oh, and I wild camped for one night too!
Effortless. I hopped in after making sure that I wouldn’t have to shell out money for it. Three people already in the car, in what it looked like an unofficial taxi ride. I got worried, as the image of my hitchhiking experience in Albania ran across my mind. I tried to steer myself away from such thoughts but soon a red flag emerged: one of the passengers handed some cash to the driver as his journey came to an end.
F*ck. Maybe he misunderstood me or is actually trying to extort me! I shouldn’t have accepted his riding offer!
Ended up having nothing to pay, as he told me that he had understood I was indeed hitchhiking.
Took me 5 minutes for a car to stop. Again, another car with random people inside. This time I had to have it crystal clear, and didn’t get in until I was sure that they complied with the hitchhiking norms… The driver was a bit reluctant and we ended up having an healthy argument on paid versus free rides. Ended up knowing that he was taking the other two passengers as BlaBlaCar rides.
Journey distance: 98 km
The unofficial capital of Transylvania is a vibrant city full of sights to be seen, parks to be explored, nightlife to be enjoyed…
At last, I made it to the Romanian capital after taking a short flight from Cluj, which saved me from taking an excruciating train journey.
I was feeling somewhat edgy and decided to document all the things I see with the HUJI camera app. In my humble opinion the photos below perfectly embed the city’s atmosphere. Crazy, hectic, grandiose and incredibly vibrant in its own way. It might take time to move past Soviet feeling and
Make sure to visit the lavish Palace of the Parliament. It’s amazing how one man’s insanity can rule an entire country. Yes, it is Ceaușescu again.
*no, it’s not a typo on how to spell my name.
In Romanian Viitor means: future, subsequent, time to come, etc.
Source | bab.la
Once I saw online the beautiful half-moon shaped beach known as Voidokilia, I knew that nothing would stop me from getting there! Roughly 60 km away from Kalamata, I ended up hitchhiking all the way! I couldn’t believe myself once I got a glimpse at those pristine waters and golden sand. Pictures definitely don’t do it justice. Make sure to conquer the castle (take appropriate footwear) for the most amazing views!
I came to Kalamata to be an artist! Despite my lack of music, dance or circus skills, I still pushed on and submitted my application to take part in the youth project funded by the Erasmus+ programme. However, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I felt like a total outcast and end up wanting for it to finish long before its due date.
The sweating that I had to endure everyday. Wearing white clothes helped a bit, but doing any kind of outdoor physical activity provided to be unbearable. If it wasn’t for the baths in the Mediterranean (albeit not so refreshing) I don’t know how I would have coped with.
In between flights I had an eight-hour layover at Munich, so heading to the city centre sounded like a no-brainer. The sky was grim and as soon as I went out of Bahnhof München Marienplatz it
BLOODY SOIL. Scenes of NSU crimes
“The most oppressive thing about these photographs is that they depict neither the murderers nor their victims. It is their inconspicuousness, the trivial and ordinary that make Schmeken’s pictures so eerie.” (Hans Magnus Enzensberger)
Only when Regina Schmeken began taking photographs of the NSU (National Socialist Underground) crime scenes in early 2013 did she become aware of the dimensions of these crimes committed in German cities by far-right terrorists. With her new exhibition project BLOODY she seeks to commemorate the victims of the murders and to confront the public with places that, at first sight, seem to bear no traces of acts of violence. Between 2013 and 2016, she paid many visits to the twelve crime scenes in Germany. Her journeys resulted in a series of large-format, disturbingly impressive black-and-white pictures that are the visual representation of her coming to terms with what happened.
The concept of “Blood and Soil” was first coined by Oswald Spengler in “The Decline of the West” (Der Untergang des Abendlandes) and was later used as a propaganda slogan by the Nazis, who were convinced that a “healthy state” was based on the unity of “its own people and its own soil”
This very idea also was the motive for the NSU murders. Almost all of the victims were of Turkish origin. They were found on the ground, lying in their own blood — brutally executed by right-wing terrorists.
In the catalogue accompanying the exhibition, Feridun Zaimoglu (a German author of Turkish origin) calls the history of the NSU a “story of great damage” German journalist Annette Ramelsberger writes: “The journey to the crime scenes was a journey to a land of pain and tears, of indifference and callousness, and of secret gloating over the things that happened. When the NSU was exposed after ten murders, two bomb attacks and 15 robberies, everybody was convinced that such a series of terrorist attacks could never again happen in Germany. But if you observe the NSU trial, you become aware that there is no guarantee for this.”
The first victim, florist Enver Şimşek, was murdered on September 9, 2000 in Nuremberg; the last victim, policewoman Michéle Kiesewetter, on April 25, 2007 in Heilbronn. Ten people died in these seven years, and many others suffered wounds to body and soul. The trial of Beate Zschäpe, an alleged member of the NSU, began in 2013 at the Higher Regional Court of Munich. The judgement is yet to be delivered; the crimes are not yet completely solved.
Who knew that in Muş I would have the chance to come across such amazing hermanos?
Málaga came to be without much thinking. Onward flight booked and off I went to Andalucía!