Please note, I’d planned on writing this blog two days ago but the tiny bar on our campsite served Transylvanian real ales, ipso facto, no writing was done that night.

A couple of things have happened today and only one of them was good.  Shamefully, we were never going to give Hungary the time it deserved because we had to get to Slovakia, by the 12th.  But when we crossed the border last night and found a camp on the banks of the Mureș River, it promised to be just as agreeable as Romania.  We might not have enough time to spend in Hungary but we planned to break up our journey the next day with a night in the capital Budapest.

But by ten that night we though Chloe’s loose stools were concerning, by midnight she was effectively jet spraying liquid shit from the back and end by 5am Kerry informed me she was also bleeding from the anus too.  Mood broken.  After a dash to the vet, we decided not to drag a hound around a city who was not well, fasting for 24 hours and full of many different medications.

It was raining, and our phone, frustratingly, wouldn’t connect with Hungary Telekom so we thought why not just head for Slovakia straight away.  Our journey the breadth of the country on a motorway was tedious and dull, while a snotty assistant was rude, unpleasant and condescending as she sold me a hot dog and cappuccino from her high horse behind the counter of a motorway services.

With the meagre reception our 2g connection would allow we found a campground complete with concrete sulfuric thermal pools directly from the 1970’s, completed with a violinist playing Frank Sinatra classics.  Mood restored. And dog very much on the mend.

Now, here’s the bit where I rave on about Romania but first, I’ll start by saying it has the crappiest mini golf I’ve come across, the balls were made of wood and the putter was a 6 iron. But it’s also a country full of surprises, where every tiny country town reveals a treat for the traveller.  Every place seems to have some sort of speciality and locals man road side stalls pedalling their wares. 

When it’s made by a local for locals you just have to pull up and buy some, we’ve sampled Kürtőskalács (a traditional chimney cake, Țuică (a plum brandy distilled in back yards and sold in plastic bottles), kilogram lumps of cheese, strawberries, mushrooms, cherries, bread and apricots. 

It’s also the things you don’t expect that make a trip extraordinary and a bit weird.   We’ve been pulled over by the cops who were looking for smuggled cigarettes, watched as a tiny old lady dressed in black plodded down a country road carrying a massive scythe, have seen plenty of horse and carts, while farmers labour away in fields with pitchforks and hoes. 

When we turned up to the fictional home of Dracula, Bran Castle, the skies thundered and the heavens opened for the first real rain we’d seen in over a month, which added a certain Vampiric atmosphere.  Although we were already in that kind of mood because we’d crossed the dark and brooding Carpathian Mountains that morning.

Cities like Sibiu are virtually devoid of foreign tourists but contains the finest central squares that I’ve ever seen.  A ten-year-old carpark attendant insisted Sibiu’s Christmas market is something to behold.  Even finer than Vienna he assured me, before confessing he’d never been to Vienna.  But I imagine it he’s right because Romania is a really dynamic place, the people are friendly and we saw at the home of Vlad Tepes, they are as proficient at tourism as anyone.  With the snow-capped Carpathians ringing the city, I imagine it would be a delight.

Sibiu’s spectacular cathedral cost 15 lei/ each (3 euros) to enter and included the tower. At the top was me and some other guy and not some crowded mass vying for the best view. 

The mountains split the country, on one side there is more influence from the Ottomans and the other side the Hungarian/Germanic influence is apparent. As a country, it’s probably been my favourite, not only because of its beauty but because it’s a destination that will soon become the new must-see place.  Over tourism is not a problem here apart from around Bran Castle and I feel I can safely say to my half a dozen readers that you really should visit before the travel industry sinks it’s claws in.  There were so many photos I wish I could have taken and many of my best images from Romania, remain in my mind.