Romania-Hungary Trip Comes to an End

Toward the end of our week in Transylvania we went to one of the country's most popular tourist destinations...Dracula's castle. We rode by carriage at midnight under a full moon as fog shrouded the roads. The horses, frightened, reared back at the sight of the castle, but the driver calmed them with some Hungarian phrases. Mike leaned out of the carriage window and asked in a weak British accent, "Driver! How far to the castle?"

We then decided to come back the next when the sun was shining brightly, and we drove up in Levente's van. The castle sits atop a hill, and around the base of the hill are gathered many t-shirt vendors, stray dogs sleeping here and there, and two men under an umbrella selling shots of palinka from two unmarked bottles.

We walked up and up a path to the top of the hill, occasionally stopping along the way to catch our breath. When we got to the top, me and Mike immediately went to find Dracula's bathroom, which was fairly modern. 3 or 4 urinals, a toilet, and 2 sinks.

At the entrance of the castle, we had to put slippers over our shoes (right) so as not to get mud or dirt on Dracula's brick and tile floors. Some people ignored the rules (probably Mike) and went without slippers.



In the early twentieth century (maybe the 1920s), the queen of the castle decided to go with a Spanish-themed renovation. Spanish tiles on the roof, stucco on the walls. And filled the castle with antiques she collected. Her picture was on the walls, and it turns out that a lot of Dracula's castle is dedicated to her memory. Above, we see Dracula's chest of drawers.

It was difficult to imagine the military purpose of the castle. But evidently it sits in the mountain pass that leads to Transylvania, and Vlad Tepes (Dracula) held the castle to defend the region against the invading whoevers (Turks?). He may have actually only been there one or two summers, it turns out.

Andrei Codrescu went back to Romania for Frontline to report on what had changed since the end of Communism. If you go to watch the video, Clip #3 begins at Bran and then at the 6 minute mark (you can fast forward) Andrei has a funny encounter with a man playing Dracula. If you fast forward, though, you'll miss the "Miracle Child," Romania's most popular gypsy singer who stands at 4' 10" or something.
http://www.pbs.org/frontlineworld/stories/romania/thestory.html

After Bran Castle we attended the wedding of my uncle's relative, Monica (I included a picture in the last entry). Then it was back to Budapest. We stayed one more day in Budapest in the City Panzio hotel, which was across the river from the Hilton we stayed at when we first arrived. As I recall, the City Panzio did not have air conditioning -- I could be wrong about that. But that alone was the deciding factor of whether or not the hotel was enjoyable or not. This one was centrally located near shops and street vendors and a huge market. So that was great.

By that time Mike had grown a large enough mustache that he thought the Gabo gypsies would accept him. We watched as he rode a horsedrawn wagon into the sunset, waiving his fedora. We never saw him again.

Our trip to Romania was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Only once because we would never, ever go back. Actually, I would like to go back to Budapest, Torocko, and maybe see some more of Cluj Napoca and maybe Szeged where all my paprika comes from. I'll also keep an eye out for gypsy caravans in hopes of catching a glimpse of Mike.

A Little of the Then and Now

When we had lunch in Luvete, there were some old photos on the wall including this shot of a traditional Hungarian wedding from long ago.

We then saw a young man bringing a load of hay in his wagon from one of the surrounding fields. We learned that a lot of the people there farmed but a lot took the bus to Budapest once a week to work in the city.

Finally, here is a picture from the modern wedding that we attended near Brasov, Romania. We all went to the courthouse (below) for a civil ceremony with plenty of space for all attendees. Then some of us walked to the church. Finally, we drove to the reception hall.

Morning Palinka in Our Ancestral Lands

We finally arrived in Luvete, where my grandfather Louis Martin and his father Lajos Marton and mother Anna Gyorgy Marton were born. Levente had done all the preliminary legwork, contacting people, talking to the priest, finding out if we still had relatives in town. We had tea with one family of Martons and had lunch at the village's only restaurant. In the picture above, an old man walks up the street with a broad, wooden rake on his shoulder that they used to pile up their hay. Common first names were Jakab, Ferenc, and Istvan, which were often translated in America to Jacob, Frank, and Steve.

We spoke to one World War II veteran named Istvan who almost looked old enough to be a World War I veteran. A very lovely young woman, Emoke [ee-moo-kuh], who was his neighbor and looked in on him, came over to help translate. Istvan recalled that our great grandmother had a great body.






The next morning we returned to the church in the middle of town and rousted the priest and the local historian. We gathered in the basement of the church to examine the ledgers that had births, weddings, and baptisms listed in them. After we found our ancestors listed in the books, the priest brought out the palinka and poured shots for me, Krista, Mike, and Aunt Liz. I believe me and Mike ended up doing double duty on that round. Again, it was a bit rough drinking 120 proof brandy -- this time first thing in the morning.

Mike embarassed us all by trying to get the priest to pour him an "upside down" shot of palinka, where he laid his head back on the desk and the priest would pour it directly into his mouth. Eventually, the language barrier proved too great, and we moved on.

Below is another view of Luvete [Loo' vee tah]. PS - Krista took all these pictures.

Castle of the Gypsies

Our guide Levente explained to us that gypsies often send them money back home to the family and eventually amass fortunes. When they do, they build mansions that display their wealth as ostenstatiously as possible. As a result, their houses have shiny, silver roofs, shiny peaks and gutters, and balconies. We drove by a few of these houses.

Levente also showed us that there were different bands of gypsies. One group was called Gabbo gypsies, I believe. Incredibly (but true), all the men of that clan grew enormous black mustaches and wore fedoras. And, as you may have already guessed, Mike tried to join up with them, but they said he would not be able to grow a big enough mustache. He spent the rest of the vacation trying to prove them wrong.