Having been invited to give a reading and a lecture at the University of Transylvania, I got another chance to attempt to find Brasov, which I missed completely the last time around.
Technically, we visited Brasov back in early March, even spent the night in one its better hotels, but we never really found Brasov. We got some bad directions, walked the wrong way (away from the center, not towards it), took a taxi into the “center” after much frustration, then stumbled into the first authentic-looking restaurant we could find to appease our starving kids. Previous blog entries detail those mis-adventures. The next day we pulled out for Sighisoara, wondering what all the hype was about…
Suffice it to say, this time around I actually located the real center of Brasov and spent a good amount of time wandering in it. Brasov, as it turns out, is the Siena of Romania: adjacent to the gigantic “Black Church,” haunting and beautiful, is a giant “campo”-like space humming with pigeon and human life. On every side of this huge square are Saxonesque buildings of every shape, each painted a different bright color. From there, numerous narrow alleys radiate outward, each one offering a bevy of attractive cafes, archways, and secret little restaurants.
Above all this, as if rising out of the buildings themselves, is Mount Tampa, a wall of impenetrable foliage whose rounded heights are always disappearing into the Carpathian mist. It is one of the most pristine and charming city centers I’ve ever seen, and certainly the loveliest in Romania (though I’m told that Timisoara will give Brasov a run for its picturesque money).
All my joy at rambling about in this evocative and delightful place was heightened that much more by the brilliant students and professors who attended my reading and lecture, peppering me with perfectly delicious questions, exhibiting a largeness of spirit and curiosity that it was impossible not to love.
Ah, Brasov, city of long sighs and excellent coffee…. it’s good to have found where you were hiding all along, even in a steady drizzle!
I write these rhapsodic notes aboard the train back to Bucharest. For twenty minutes, we have been steadily rising into the curves of a spooky mountain pass. The rivers are gushing after two days of rain and…surprise, surprise…out of the low-hanging clouds huge, swollen snow-flakes are suddenly falling.
Technically, we visited Brasov back in early March, even spent the night in one its better hotels, but we never really found Brasov. We got some bad directions, walked the wrong way (away from the center, not towards it), took a taxi into the “center” after much frustration, then stumbled into the first authentic-looking restaurant we could find to appease our starving kids. Previous blog entries detail those mis-adventures. The next day we pulled out for Sighisoara, wondering what all the hype was about…
Suffice it to say, this time around I actually located the real center of Brasov and spent a good amount of time wandering in it. Brasov, as it turns out, is the Siena of Romania: adjacent to the gigantic “Black Church,” haunting and beautiful, is a giant “campo”-like space humming with pigeon and human life. On every side of this huge square are Saxonesque buildings of every shape, each painted a different bright color. From there, numerous narrow alleys radiate outward, each one offering a bevy of attractive cafes, archways, and secret little restaurants.
Above all this, as if rising out of the buildings themselves, is Mount Tampa, a wall of impenetrable foliage whose rounded heights are always disappearing into the Carpathian mist. It is one of the most pristine and charming city centers I’ve ever seen, and certainly the loveliest in Romania (though I’m told that Timisoara will give Brasov a run for its picturesque money).
All my joy at rambling about in this evocative and delightful place was heightened that much more by the brilliant students and professors who attended my reading and lecture, peppering me with perfectly delicious questions, exhibiting a largeness of spirit and curiosity that it was impossible not to love.
Ah, Brasov, city of long sighs and excellent coffee…. it’s good to have found where you were hiding all along, even in a steady drizzle!
I write these rhapsodic notes aboard the train back to Bucharest. For twenty minutes, we have been steadily rising into the curves of a spooky mountain pass. The rivers are gushing after two days of rain and…surprise, surprise…out of the low-hanging clouds huge, swollen snow-flakes are suddenly falling.
Photos above of the alpine approach to Brasov, and of the city itself...
Wish you were here,
Christopher
Wish you were here,
Christopher
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