Travel-4Less

In the eastern part of Transylvania, a region of Romania, are two unusual geographical features that are results of the volcanic nature of this area’s geology. While one of them – Saint Anna Lake -is slowly changing, the other – Mohos Lake- is an example of what it is going to turn into.

Lake Saint Anna (Lacul Sfanta Ana) is a blue-green colored, very calm and beautiful lake formed in an exploded crater 946 meters above sea level. The crater was the result of an eruption 15 millennia ago. The lake is framed by sharply sloping rock coated with coniferous forest, and has an area of about 21 hectares. It never gets beyond 8.3 meters deep, and its average depth is about 4 meters.

All sorts of legends and traditions have built up around this lake. Although it is actually filled exclusively with rain and melting snow, and is not connected to other bodies of water, there’s a persistent legend that it has a subterranean link to some sea.

On the day of Saint Anna (July 26), the lake is the site of a big procession and a mass held by the Roman Catholics who make up the majority of the local population. The center of this event is the chapel dedicated to the Saint, which sits at the lake’s side. In pre-Christian days, the spot where the chapel stands is said to have been the site of pagan sacrifices. A more worldly tradition associated with the lake is camping. Locals, especially young people, love to descend on the lake on sunny weekends to set up tents, sunbathe and swim.

It is known that the lake has been here for more than six centuries, because it is alluded to in a 1349 charter. But it will only be around for another two centuries before it turns into a swamp. In 1870, its depth was 12.5 meters. The lake is getting ever shallower as sediment piles up on its base.

To get a glimpse of the lake’s future, visit Mohos, located in another crater that’s part of the same mountain. Once a lake three times as big as Saint Anna, Mohos atrophied somewhere between 3,000 and 4,000 years ago. What that means is that so many plants were growing in the lake – especially sphagnum moss – that it became a bog.

A guided tour of Mohos sets off each hour, and it is a strange experience. When you walk on its surface, you are stepping on a seven-meter moss layer that floats on top of 13 meters of water. To prove this, find a place where the moss parts to give way to a peaty black pool, and jump up and down on what you thought was the ground. You’ll see ripples in the pool.

The moss is so thick that the water underneath is highly inhospitable to living organisms – the technical term for this is oligotrophic. The same is not true, though, of the moss’s top surface, where there are some rather rare species of life forms. There are three different species of insect-eating sundew here: red flowers that look quite harmless but are able to catch passing mosquitoes. Black vipers live here, too – be careful, as they are venomous.

Located only an hour’s drive from the major city of Brasov, these two unusual geographical features can be an interesting day trip as part of a Transylvanian vacation. They serve as a reminder that in this beautiful part of Romania, it is not just the human history and culture that are fascinating: the natural environment is also full of explosive surprises.

Written by and photos by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Rasnov (pronounced Ryshnov) is a small town in Transylvania, central-western Romania, that is home to a spectacular fortified complex. While major Transylvanian cities such as Brasov and Sibiu are famous for their medieval city walls, the Rasnov fortification is older than theirs, its construction having commenced in 1241. It is called the “peasant citadel” as it was constructed by the town’s agricultural workers.

Sitting atop a crag 150 meters high, the fortification several times served as a refuge for Rasnov inhabitants. The area, strategically located on the road linking Transylvania to the neighboring principality of Wallachia, often came under attack from Tatars or Turks. Whenever that happened, townsfolk would retreat up the hill from the town itself to shelter within the fortress walls. The town of Rasnov, which now has 16,000 residents, is spread out at the hill’s foot. It largely consists today of sleepy lines of Baroque houses from the 18th century.

To climb up to the citadel, start by locating the town’s main square, Piata Unirii, which is situated at a place where you directly face the Hollywood-style white letters spelling “Rasnov” on the hillside. Go to the square’s side nearest the fortress, and there is a building with a gateway that leads onto a broad courtyard. This building houses a restaurant, Pub Castel, with a nice beer garden. You might need the sustenance of the food offered here – including flavourful Romanian soups – before you start climbing the steps that lead from the courtyard up to the top of the hill. They are steep, but not dangerous.

If you’d rather drive to the fortress, you can take a winding road that starts a few hundred meters right from Piata Unirii. This doesn’t save any time, though. Either way, you need 15 minutes or so to reach the top.
The fortress is constructed directly into the cliff, and its 17th-century outer wall, five meters high, falls and rises with the hill’s contours. It has eight bastions, the most powerful of which is the gate tower. Within this is the 14th-century inner wall.

Once you get to the interior of the fortress, you’ll see that it is a kind of miniature town. It has a little network of streets and some 30 houses. In the old days, these would be kept prepared for the town’s residents to retreat into. The complex is in good condition and contains facilities like a café and a museum full of medieval utensils, weapons and documents. Elsewhere in the fortress is a place where you can take archery lessons. There is also an international medieval arts festival held up here every year.

The fortification has saved the people of Rasnov more than once. For instance, during a Tatar invasion in 1335 that devastated this area, contemporary documents say that Rasnov was one of only two fortresses that resisted.
Only once did the fortress surrender, in 1612. That was a result of invaders locating the water supply – a hidden river. After that, the townsfolk decided to dig a well in the fortress, which was completed between 1623 and 1640 – probably by Turkish prisoners. The well, which is still visible, goes down 146 meters through solid rock. It only ceased to be used in 1850, as a result of its wheel breaking.

The enemy in 1612, ironically, was the leadership of Transylvania. Rasnov sided with the Wallachians – who had formed an alliance with the Austrians – against the Transylvanian leaders, who were Turkish vassals. The Transylvanian leadership won that particular conflict, and punished Rasnov by holding its citadel for a year, eventually freeing it on payment of a ransom.

Despite that defeat, Rasnov’s residents successfully sheltered in the fortress when the Turks attacked Transylvania in 1658 and in 1690. The last time the fortress served its protective purpose was a period of a few months in 1789, when Austrians and Turks once again battled for domination over the area.

In today’s more peaceful times, Rasnov’s fortress is simply a delightful place to visit. Rasnov is also fairly easy to find, as it is easily reached by road or rail from the major city of Brasov, about 15 kilometers away.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Visitors to Sighisoara, Romania, one of the most evocative Gothic cities in Transylvania (central-western Romania), might not be surprised when they come across a statue of Dracula and learn that the city is his birthplace. With its medieval walled city center on top of a hill, the place seems to have just the atmosphere you’d associate with the bloodsucking aristocrat. But the more you start to find out about the real-life Dracula, the more you realize what an improbable coincidence it is that he was born here.

In fact, when walking around the cobble-stoned streets of Sighisoara, it is best not to even try to find any analogies between the historical Dracula and the fanged villain who made his debut in the 1897 Bram Stoker novel. The real Dracula, though born here, was not primarily associated with Transylvania. Instead, he found fame as the ruler of Wallachia, a different principality whose territory now makes up southern Romania. That means he was a prince – unlike his fictional namesake, who was, of course, a count. Also, the real Dracula was a Romanian, whereas Stoker’s character calls himself a Szekely (a Hungarian-speaking race). Nor was the historical Dracula a vampire, as far as anyone knows. He was, however, an impaler.

Prince Vlad III of Wallachia was called Dracula – originally spelt Draculea – because he was the son of Prince Vlad II, who was known as Dracul. That means “dragon,” and was derived from the fact that Vlad II had joined an order whose symbol was a dragon. The order was dedicated to protecting Europe from the westward expansion by the Ottoman Turks.

Those defensive efforts did not always go well, and when young Dracula was growing up, he spent a lot of time imprisoned by Ottoman forces. His first spell as Prince Vlad III was as the Ottomans’ young puppet, in 1448. He lost that job after the Hungarians, led by Janos Hunyadi, invaded, but he then sealed a pact with Hunyadi that brought him back to the Wallachian throne in 1456.

This was the start of a reign that lasted six years, during which Vlad started to be known as the Impaler. People who displeased him – be they invading foreigners or rebellious locals – would often find themselves punished by being stuck on a wooden spike driven into the earth. Similar to crucifixion, it was a slow, painful method of execution that let gravity do most of the work. Legend tells of occasions when Vlad would have many dozens of people skewered at the same time, forming forests of writhing bodies on wooden stakes.

Dracula was not always a shrewd strategist. Anticipating a war between the Turks and the Hungarians in which his intention was to back the Hungarians, Dracula launched a bloody campaign in the Turk-dominated Balkan peninsula in 1460. The Turks retaliated against him and backed Radu, Vlad’s brother, as the new prince of Wallachia. Unfortunately for Vlad, the Hungarians, too, recognized Radu as the prince. Vlad then spent several years imprisoned in Buda (now part of the Hungarian capital Budapest) under Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary. This may not have been a very closely confined captivity, though, as he married Corvinus’ cousin during this time.

During the 1470s, Vlad strove to become the Wallachian prince again. The Transylvanian prince, Stephen Bathory, lent military support, and Vlad succeeded in regaining the throne. However, he only held it for a month before he was killed, in 1476. Nobody quite knows whether it was his old enemies the Turks who finished him off, or whether it was local people, still angry about his earlier cruelty.

His spirited defense of Wallachian lands has led toVlad III being considered a hero by modern Romanians. But they are not oblivious to the marketing potential caused by the confusion between him and the fictional Dracula. Many locations in the country are promoted to foreign tourists as having a “Dracula connection”, despite having little or nothing to do with Vlad III. On the other hand, some Romanians are annoyed by the bloody legend that has been constructed by writers and filmmakers that bears no relation to the real Dracula.

In Sighisoara, its possible to eat dinner in the building in which, it’s assumed, Dracula was born in 1431 and lived for his first four years. It’s a yellow building right in the historic city center. Given that a lot of central Sighisoara needed to be reconstructed after a fire in 1676, this is probably the oldest house in the area. It survived the fire and is still the same edifice Vlad knew. Once you step inside the house, though, you’re in the world of fiction, with over-the-top, vampire-themed, fake medieval décor. Confused tourists are clearly the target market!

Written by and photos by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Cluj, Romania is a city of many different faiths and historic communities, just like the region of Transylvania in which it sits. In another article, we’ve already looked at its two largest churches and the stories behind them. But in this article, we’ll explore some of the smaller churches and the congregations they serve. In this compact and culturally rich city, all of these beautiful and widely different churches are located within a few square miles.

The most prevalent Protestant denomination in Transylvania is the Reformed or Calvinist faith. The church in the southern part of the city center now belongs to the Calvinists, but was the site of some inter-denominational conflict in centuries past. Built in 1486-1516, it originally belonged to Franciscan monks. Townsfolk filled with Protestant zeal raided it in 1556 and trashed its sculptures and icons. The Franciscans relinquished the church and it was given to another Catholic group, the Jesuits, in 1579. Protestants struck again in 1603, ransacking the building and destroying the roof. In due course, the Jesuits said goodbye to the building and in 1622 it became what it is now: a Calvinist church with a Hungarian-speaking congregation.

There followed a series of 17^th century renovations, including new vaulting and a pulpit made from limestone and alabaster, creating an interior that remains largely unchanged to this day – somewhat sparse, and still with a Gothic look. The simple wooden pews date from that time. However, the ornate organ housing is from 1765, as it was not until then that the Reformed congregation countenanced organ playing. The church’s single nave is extremely broad.

The statue outside the church’s entrance, showing St. George killing a dragon, is a miniature replica of one that still stands in the Czech capital Prague, having been created for that city in 1373 by a pair of Cluj-based sculpting brothers.

Slightly to the west of the central square in Cluj, named Piata Unirii, stands the Greek Catholic church, which, though small, is a relatively important seat for this dwindling denomination. Greek Catholicism was popular among Transylvanian Romanians in the 18^th century because it allowed them to be in full communion with the Catholicism of their Austrian rulers while keeping Orthodox rites. Accordingly, this church’s interior is a weird hybrid. Like an Orthodox church, it has an iconostasis, icons painted on the walls, and no statues. But there is a Catholic flavor to its pale colors - the Stations of the Cross paintings hanging on the walls, and the fact that there is a pulpit. A side chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary, though lacking a statue, in other respects resembles something from a Catholic church, including votive tablets hung on the wall by parishioners.

To the south of Piata Unirii is a Roman Catholic church displaying the Baroque style typical of the 18^th century, when the Austrians sent Jesuits around Transylvania to revive Catholicism. In fact, this was the first church the Jesuits built in the region during that counter-Reformation. It has a splendid, highly ornamented interior, with lots of gold.

A real curiosity is the “Cock Church” built in 1912-13 by Karoly Kos, an architect influenced by Transylvanian Hungarian peasant art. A 20 minute stroll west from the city center, this salmon-pink edifice is named for the rooster designs on the top of its tower and on the interior lampshades. The church offers a modern twist on village architecture, with stylized folk motifs punctuating the simple dark wood planks of its chunky but elegant interior.

A faith strongly associated with Transylvania’s Hungarian community is observed in the Unitarian church, built in 1792-96. This faith – in which there is only one God rather than a Trinity – was mostly adopted by ordinary folk, because aristocrats, as part of their duties, sometimes needed to swear on the cross. In keeping with the Unitarian ethos, this church contains no pictures. Its broad, sweeping, single-nave interior, topped by a low arched ceiling, is plain and simple. The walls are painted a uniform pale yellow and punctuated with big windows. During services, the priest likes to stand facing the crowd rather than delivering his words from a pulpit.

A stone’s throw west is the Lutheran church, which stands on the northeast corner of the square named Piata Unirii. The word “Pietati” is written on the front facade, meaning “To Piety” in Latin. Inside, this church proves to be another big, arched, elegantly simple single-nave, although it has more adornment than the Unitarian one. The columns that support the expansive white interior are touched up with gold paint on their bosses. The north wall contains a couple of small epitaphs to local officials from the 17^th and 18^th centuries. This church was constructed in 1816-1829 in a style that is a fusion of Baroque and Neo-Classical. Its congregation mostly consists of ethnic Hungarians, and services are held in their language.

Travelers to Cluj who want to know its history, culture, and people, need only visit its many religiously significant churches.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

The Tara Motilor region in western Romania features beautiful, heavily wooded mountains and rustic little towns. Here, the town of Campeni boasts a Romanian Orthodox church that stands on a small hill. Its wood gate is adorned with carvings of important national events and heroes. Read more about Tara Motilor, Romania

Photo and article by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Start with the soup. That might be the best advice for anybody who is about to be intoduced to Romanian food. The country’s cuisine is at its very best when it comes to the various types of tasty soup – “ciorba” – with which it is traditional to commence any sit-down meal. Bits of chopped meat, as well as vegetables like beans, carrots and potatoes, are common ingredients, as are dill and other herbs. Soup with meat dumplings (ciorba de perisoara) is a favorite, and so is stewed beef soup (ciorba de vacuta).

In fact, one of the most distinctive signature items in the whole of Romanian cookery is a soup. Not for the faint of heart, it is named ciorba de burta, and is a creamy, sour, yellow-colored concoction containing rubbery strips of cow stomach and slices of red pepper. It’s traditionally consumed with a curly, long, hot green pepper on the side, and a dollop or two of sour cream added according to taste. Delicious!

Not that the main courses in Romania are anything to sneeze at. Study the menu of any restaurant and you will be able to select from a range of simple grilled or fried cuts of pork, beef or chicken. Common options include leg (pulpe), breast (piept), sirloin (muschi), nape (ceafa) or cutlet (cotlet). The most frequent accompaniment is French fries (cartofi prajiti), and the fries are sometimes sprinkled with shredded soft cheese (telemea). Other typical side garnishes are mamaliga, a yellow corn meal, and cucumbers or peppers pickled in brine.

And then there are the dishes where things are mixed up a little. There is frigarui, in which chunks of cooked meat alternate with bits of sweet pepper and crisp onion along the length of a skewer. There’s the pork cutlet with a layer of cooked cheese that is found in Transylvania, known as cotlet sibien. Or there are stewy platters like tochitura, a peasant favorite in which an assortment of fried pork pieces, including bits of liver and sausage, swim in tomato sauce spiked with garlic and paprika. This might come with a slab of mamaliga topped by a fried egg. Pomana and tocana are other words for stew-type dishes.

Several smaller dishes provide a delightful way to experience Romanian cuisine. Sarmale is a national specialty, consisting of cabbage or vine leaves rolled up around minced meat that is mixed with herbs and rice. These are cooked until they are soft, and they go very well with a spoonful of sour cream. Liver (ficat) is also a popular light meal. It is generally offered in small portions because of its rich flavour. And a typical vegetarian option simply consists of a slice of mamaliga served with cottage cheese and sour cream.
For those long Romanian summer evenings, there are mici or mititei – grilled cylinders of minced pork and beef, served with bread and mustard. They taste great with a beer.
For dessert, the most typical choice is pancakes (clatite) stuffed with a sharp-tasting jam, cheese curd, or poppy seeds. But there’s also a tasty type of doughnut, named papanasi, that comes filled with that bitter Romanian jam.

Finally, don’t be surprised if a meal in a Romanian restaurant comes with a bread roll that you didn’t ask for, but then turns out to be listed on the bill. This is not an attempt to rip you off. It is just a part of the local culture – many Romanians cannot imagine eating a meal without bread.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Cluj, in central Romania, is among the best-served cities in the country when it comes to dining and drinking. The city even has its own dish, Varza a la Cluj, which contains cabbage leaves and minced meat in alternating layers reminiscent of lasagna. What follows is a list of a few personal favorite places to imbibe and ingest in Cluj, Romania, starting with five that are right on the main square, Piata Unirii.

Ursus is an unpretentious place with a basic interior; a long tube-shaped hall filled with rows of tables. The fare is homey Romanian food, which typically means a grilled or fried cut of meat served with French fries and a side order of pickled vegetables. Dessert might be a crepe filled with jam. Prices at Ursus are cheap, service is friendly, but a bit slow. It is almost inconceivable to eat here without having a bottle of beer, as the restaurant is owned by the Ursus Brewery which is based in Cluj. The brewery makes one of the finest Romanian lagers.

Ernesto is a good spot for a quiet evening meal. Located in the underground level of a building, it has a restful ambience, helped by its brick arches and subtle colored lights. Its cuisine is pan-European, with caviar among the flashier appetizers, and steak, lobster and duck dishes among the entrees.

Hotel Melody is a landmark institution, with flashing neon signs which seem to date back to the mid 20th century. Its second floor boasts a pleasant restaurant where even non-guests can enjoy a traditional Romanian meal.

By contrast, Diesel Club is a modern café and bar where hipsters hang out. The coffee here is pretty good, and it is nice to sip it while sitting at one of the outdoor tables on a sunny day.

Flowers caters to a different type of contemporary crowd. It is an alternative teahouse in a new-age style, with a tip of the hat to Central European Secessionist arts; check-out the Alfons Mucha illustrations in the interior wall arches. A wide range of teas and coffees are served here.

Now to stray beyond Piata Unirii. Casa Ardeleana is inside a shopping mall, but it doesn’t feel like it once you enter the restaurant. It has a folksy feel, with embroidered wall hangings and wooden furniture. This is also reflected in the cuisine, which is traditional Romanian, including delicious rich soups and a good Varza a la Cluj. The place is quite popular at lunchtime.

Close by is the elegant Hubertus, with its modern décor and outstanding food and service. The name comes from the patron saint for hunters and game dishes are among the house specialties. They include stag, pheasant and deer. Other imaginative dishes include salmon carpaccio and camembert with fruit. And there’s the cross-cultural experience of eating paprika chicken – a Hungarian delicacy – accompanied by the very Romanian garnish of polenta (known locally as mamaliga.) They offer a great choice of international beers and wines as well.

Restaurant Matei Corvin is located on the street of the same name, both named after a Hungarian king who was born on this street. The restaurant’s slightly cramped interior is complemented with a random selection of paintings. It offers big, hearty portions of Romanian foods – including a tasty tripe soup.

For Hungarian specialties really well done, try Nostalgia, located on Strada Universitatii. It’s a friendly place where they serve delights such as crispy duck with mashed potatos and steamed red cabbage, pork cutlets soaked in garlic, and cabbage leaves stuffed with minced meat.

If you want to get more international, try Club Roland Garros, located slightly north of the city center. It has an imaginative and large menu with Mediterranean touches, such as octopus salad, moussaka, and many pasta options. It is unusually vegetarian-friendly by Romanian standards – the menu even indicates which dishes are meat-free. It has a stylish sport-pub interior, and a pleasant terrace down by the rustling river. From here, you can look up at the bridge leading into the city center and at the elegant 19th-century buildings on the far side. If only the river were not greenish-brown and dotted with garbage.

A more unexpected international menu is encountered at Napoca 15, a restaurant whose name is also its address. While its rivals vie to offer the best local food or the best “western” cuisine, this place offers specialties from other East European countries. There’s a Bratislava-style pork cutlet (which is stuffed with brain), a Prague schnitzel, a chicken Kiev and a Stroganoff.

Bistro 1900 is a place aiming for a European turn-of-the-century mood. There’s not much variety on the menu except for a wide range of light pasta dishes, which arrive very well presented. There’s a good choice of Romanian wines, and the bistro also does a hot chocolate that is delightfully bitter.

Pizza Rex only serves pizza and pasta. But the food is tasty and the service is brisk – a rarity in Romania. It has a pleasingly simple décor, with dark wood furniture against yellow walls, and the arrangement of its tables in booths makes for a comfortable atmosphere.

Lugano, with its elegant menu design and prices toward the high end, is going for a more posh experience. It serves truffles and fancy Italian dishes in a serene, peach-colored interior. Service isn’t quite as good as the food.

Finally, there’s the unique experience of Etno Club, which is in the basement of a building that also contains a museum of ethnography. Hence the curious combination of folk furnishings – wooden tables and chairs and the occasional antler or wagon wheel on the wall – all with techno music. The menu consists of typical Romanian dishes, plus pizza. Come in the summer, when the establishment spills out of its walls, setting about 50 large tables in the gorgeous courtyard.

Casa Ardeleana
Bd. 21 Decembrie 1989 5 (Sora Shopping Center)

Hubertus
Bulevardul 21 Decembrie 1989 22

Diesel Club
Piata Unirii 17

Pizza Rex
Str. Bolyai 6

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

The area of Romania known as Calata (in Romanian) or Kalotaszeg (in Hungarian) may be rich in traditions, but it also has some unexpected sides. In among the sleepy Transylvanian villages and farms, the well-preserved medieval churches, and the peasant handicrafts, there are a few unusual things that stand out.

For one, there is the castle in the village of Stana (Sztana in Hungarian) that was built in 1910 by Karoly Kos, a Hungarian architect. Called the Varjuvar, or “crow castle,” it served as his home and workshop for a good portion of his life. Kos was a student of the area’s folk architecture, and he incorporated elements of it into his own creations. But for all the traditional features of its construction, the building definitely has the feel of having been created in the modern era, and by a highly individual, waywardly talented person.

Other people answering that description were among the residents of a notable architectural complex in Ciucea (Csucsa). This complex, atop a promontory at the east edge of the town, was the home of the writer Octavian Goga. It includes a palace with yellow outer walls where Goga himself resided. You can visit his pretty library with 6,000 volumes (he could read in six languages) and the bedroom where he died.

Also on the grounds is a white-colored house, which contains displays of Transylvanian furniture, folk costumes and icons. These items, dating from the 17th to 19th centuries, were collected by Goga. The house, for a while, was the home of the writer Endre Ady with whom Goga had what must be described as a most unlikely friendship. The Hungarian Ady wrote symbolist, erotic poetry, lived hedonistically and criticized rural life compared to his own  urban existence, while Goga, a patriotic Romanian, celebrated the charm of villages.

Another interesting feature here is the mausoleum where Goga and his wife, Veturia, lie side-by-side. Veturia, a visual artist, created the colorful mosaic work that covers the mausoleum – it took her 20 years.

The grounds also contain a little stone church, where services are still sometimes held. Constructed in 1575 in a nearby village, the church was transferred here, stone-by-stone, on the instructions of Veturia Goga, to spare it from destruction. The church is quite tiny inside – watch your head! The whole Ciucea complex can be visited from Tuesday to Sunday between 10am and 5pm. Incidentally, Ciucea also happens to be a good place to bathe in the Cris river, as it runs quite shallow here and the water is warm in summer.

Belis (Josikafalva) is a village with a haunting story to tell. Its inhabitants were forced to move from the original, low-lying location to the top of a hill in the early 70s when the communist government decided to create an artificial lake here. The old village church still stands under the lake, although the local folk did take its furniture and icons with them and even exhumed their dead to rebury them in the new site. The church is still clearly visible to the many tourists who row boats across the lake or scuba-dive under its surface. In hot weather, the cross atop the church tower appears above the water’s surface. It is said that under the church is a fortune. Belis today is a very nice, relaxing  resort town with a host of tourism, sport and spa facilities. The surrounding hills are also good for hiking, strolling, and skiing.

The main town in the region, Huedin, is a great place to see an architectural phenomenon that has become quite prevalent in Transylvania over the past ten or fifteen years. These are the showy mansions built by people of the Roma (Gypsy) ethnicity. This group has increased in size in Huedin since the fall of communism, and several families have become wealthy (at least by local standards), thanks to money sent home by young relatives who work in western countries. They have poured the cash into big houses topped with glittering roofs made of steel galvanized with zinc. Occasionally the roofs are adorned by shiny insignia such as western automobile logos or currency symbols.

Finally, a head-scratcher. Calata/Kalotaszeg is known as an area populated by Hungarian-speakers, and as a stronghold of ancient customs of that ethnicity. But Calata also happens to be the name of one particular village in the area, and it’s a highly unusual one: its residents are Romanians.

Written By David Hill for EuropeUpClose

In western Romania, between the city of Cluj and the town of Ciucea, is an area of gentle hills and winding roads, of sunflowers and storks, quaint villages and ancient churches. Called Calata in Romanian, it’s known as Kalotaszeg to the ethnic Hungarians who form the majority of the population, and who continue to practice age-old handicrafts and customs. Agri-tourism thrives here, with many villagers renting out rooms in their homes, while others advertise with the German words “Zimmer frei” (room free).

The people are friendly and unhurried, happy to exchange a “jo napot kivanok” (good day) with a passer-by. You’ll spot some interesting headgear, with women toting headscarves or broad straw hats while men wear tweed trilbys (black felt hats) or porkpies. Considering the unforgiving sun that beats down in summer, head protection is wise.

A lot of houses are decoratively hewn from wood, and filled with embroidered drapery and pillows, stoves covered with carved tiles, and red-painted furniture with floral motifs. In an incongruous modern touch, some homes have satellite dishes, picking up TV stations from Hungary.

Quaint villages hold beautiful old churches, with whitewashed outer walls but colorful decorations inside. If a church is closed, ask around the village for the priest – “preot” in Romanian or “pap” in Hungarian – who will let you in. The churches, originally Catholic, now mostly serve the Calvinist denomination, to which many Transylvanian Hungarians converted in the 16th and 17th centuries.

The main town is Huedin (Banffyhunyad in Hungarian), home to about 10,000 people. It is built around a main road, lined with shops selling car parts, household appliances and hardware, with a great deal of through auto traffic thundering along.  Huedin’s church, founded in the 13th century, has much in common with others in the area. Its interior walls are festooned with cloths decorated with red and blue embroidery that depicts traditional motifs or spells out heart-warming rhymes. A cloth like this is known in Hungarian as “falvedo” (wall-protector.) You’ll see another typical feature if you look up from the wooden pews and study the church’s slightly warped ceiling. The ceiling is covered with a patchwork of wood panels (“cassettes”) painted with religious or folkloric designs and sayings. These were added to the area’s churches in the 18th century. Another 18th century touch found here, and in other churches, is the carved pulpit, topped by a sculpted pelican. This bird was used to symbolize Jesus, because of its mythical habit of nourishing its chicks with its own blood. If the church is closed, you can find the priest at number 28 on the side street that runs by it.

Next to the church stands a tower, which was already here by 1411. It formed part of what was originally an entire fortified surrounding wall, where Huedin residents took shelter during raids by Turks. Right opposite the church is the hulking concrete Complex Comercial Vladeasa, a block that contains a large restaurant named Montana. It has a covered terrace in front with log tables and benches and it is not a bad place to eat.

As for smaller localities in the area, one worth visiting is Sancraiu (Kalotaszentkiraly). It is also an agri-tourism center, with many residents offering rooms for tourists. A dance camp is held every August and has grown to become an international event. It is organized by Davincze Tours, which operates out of house 291 near the church. The village’s 13th century church proudly displays a ceiling covered with 200 panels.

Another village, Vistea (Magyarvista), contains a church on a little hill in its center. It’s approached by entering a gate and climbing a spiraling path framed by stone walls, into which gravestones are set at intervals. Founded in 1280, the church was renovated several times in subsequent centuries but retains many original features. In a throwback to the days when Christianity was something to which locals had to be introduced gently, you’ll spot some pre-Christian symbols – a moon, sun and stars – on the southern entrance. Other intriguing, old characteristics can be found inside. Frescos dating from earlier than 1580 were uncovered in 1913, having been designed and created  in the days before the local population converted from Catholicism to Protestantism. Calvinist ideas about proper church decor required that the frescos be covered up after the conversion. Incidentally, this was one of the first Reformed churches throughout Transylvania, having made the switch only a few years after Calvinism was established in the region. Unusually, the Vistea church’s bell tower is separate from the main building, and made of wood. The timber is said to have come from a now extinct forest which grew on a hill close by while the bell was forged in 1784. The priest lives next to the church, his house and yard separated from the church grounds by a simple gate.

Many master masons operate in Vistea, with signs on their houses advertising their skills. It’s an industry for which the village’s inhabitants have had an excellent reputation for centuries.

Other lovely village churches – displaying many of the same typical features – are in Valeni (Magyarvalko) and Manastireni (Magyareromonostor). And there is a particularly large one in Izvorul Crisului (Korosfo). It is surrounded by fortifications and stands on a hill. While it shares the cassette ceiling found in other churches in the area, it has one unique feature: a 1660 Turkish carpet. This was donated by Gyorgy Rakoczi II, prince of Transylvania, in gratitude to the villagers who nursed him after he was injured fighting Turk invaders.  Izvorul Crisului is also a great shopping village. In fact, its entire main street is full of shops selling craft and art items. Some of these are tacky trinkets, identical from store to store. But look more closely and you will find some interesting handmade wall hangings and ceramics – charming pieces of Kalotaszeg to take home with you.

Written by David Hill  for EuropeUpClose

Welcome to Cluj, Romania: a city that for centuries has embodied the religious diversity typical of its region, Transylvania. Survey downtown Cluj, Romania, from atop the citadel hill to its north, and you can see churches of six denominations. Scanning left to right, you first see the tall domed tower of the Romanian Orthodox church, then the spire of the Unitarian church, which swells into a bulb before rising to a point. Next is the white-topped Lutheran church. Then look into the distance to find the massive bulk of the Calvinist church, before bringing your focus back to the foreground to observe the largest church, a Roman Catholic one. Finally, there is the small gray roof of the Greek Catholic church.

Then, consider that the Unitarian, Lutheran, Greek Catholic and Orthodox buildings are not just any old churches, but cathedrals: the seats of bishops in their respective denominations.

Since it would be overwhelming to tour all these churches in one go, I will focus on the two biggest cathedrals: the Orthodox and the Catholic. The four smaller churches - and a couple of interesting others that don’t happen to be visible from that hill – have their own curious stories to tell, so they will be the subject of a whole different post.

The Orthodox cathedral, with its carved stone facade built onto a skeleton of concrete, serves the Romanian community which, today, is the largest ethnic group in Cluj. It was erected between 1923 and 1933, after Transylvania became part of Romania. Intended as a monument of Romanian national pride, the building has neo-Byzantine architectural features – most notably its central cupola. The church is 64 meters tall and has room for 2,000 worshippers. Its interior dazzles with large mosaics and murals in many colors, with gold predominating. Walking straight ahead from the main entrance, you eventually reach a grand iconostasis with icons arranged in five rows. From the huge alcove behind it, a mural of Mary and Jesus gazes down at you. Hanging far down from the interior of the cupola is a massive chandelier shaped like a crown, which was a gift from Carol II, King of Romania.

The Orthodox cathedral stands on a square called Piata Avram Iancu, one of the main squares in Cluj. And just a few blocks west is another, similarly sized square, Piata Unirii, home to an older, Catholic church. This, the tallest church in Cluj, is, in fact, the tallest in Transylvania, at 80 meters including the cross on top. The magnificent Gothic church, dedicated to the Archangel Michael, is not a cathedral, because Cluj is not a Catholic episcopal seat but, in stead,  falls under the bishopric of nearby Alba Iulia.

Catholicism made a comeback at St Michael’s after a couple of other denominations held it for a while. In 1551, St Michael’s became a Lutheran place of worship, and then became the seat of a Unitarian bishop in 1566. It has been a Hungarian-speaking Catholic church since 1718.

St Michael’s was built between 1350 and 1487, although some of what you see today is reconstruction, including the clock tower which was rebuilt, in neo-Gothic style, in the 19th century. The likeness of St Michael (killing a dragon) above the main door is original. To its left is an inscription in Latin proclaiming that the depiction was installed there in 1444. Still older is the church’s 24-meter altarpiece, made in 1390. The colossal, richly adorned pulpit, carved from wood, is a comparative youngster, dating from 1750. The interior is massive, with huge arches bolstered by two-meter thick pillars separating the side naves from the main one.

There is evidence of conflict between Catholics and Protestants on the church’s interior walls. When they were in control of this building, Protestants obliterated almost every trace of rich, 15th century frescos. But some patches of fresco painting can still be seen, having been uncovered when the church was restored in the mid 20th century. At the rear, under the clock tower, is a small chapel where there is a whole mural showing the Crucifixion.

The rich history of Cluj and its diverse population is indeed reflected in the outstanding art and architecture of  every church you visit. 

Written by David Hill  for EuropeUpClose