Whistlestop Wanderjahr: Sighişoara

We opted for the train from Sibiu to Sighişoara. I recommend against the train. This is highly unusual, as I generally much prefer train over bus, plane, or car. However, the train between Sibiu and Sighişoara was privately run, and included a transfer approximately halfway, at Mediaş. The first leg was a success, despite clearly inferior train cars and slightly sketchy conductors. The second leg, however, masterfully exemplified train system failures with which we Americans (with our fairly pathetic publicly-run Amtrak) are all to familiar -- the delay was long enough to effectively qualify as a no-show. With precious, whistlestop daylight burning away, my parents and I quickly decided on an alternative: a taxi which would cost about 65 lei (~ $20 US). Our driver drove like a pro, too. Not "rally car" pro, luckily, but definitely a seasoned chauffeur.

Sighişoara is a beautiful, quaint town in the Mureş raion of Romania's Transylvania region. Most of the town lies at the foot of a smallish hill, spilling gracefully out into the endearing valleys which typify this part of Romania. Some active hotels and nightlife can be found in this newer part of town, but the citadel on the hill is definitely the destination for most passers-through. The citadel features fully intact fortifications, including a remarkable clock tower and defensive structures belonging to each of the major, medieval guilds of the town. Inside the walls, all of the buildings have been preserved as much as possible, to the extent that even the colors painted on exterior walls are required to be the same as they were some hundreds of years ago. There are also, of course, several non-Orthodox churches to remind visitors that they are leaving the territory of the Eastern Orthodox majority. (The modern town does, actually, have a large, new and/or well-maintained Orthodox church.)

On arrival, much to our dismay, we found the streets of the citadel utterly in pieces. Apparently, somebody made the decision to renew the cobblestone of the entire old city, but instead of repairing one section of road at a time, every walkable or drivable centimeter of the citadel had been torn up, and workers were slowly setting the new granite blocks. Street vendors and business owners in the citadel were openly upset and confused at this, and would say, "Come back in a year, and you'll see what our old town normally looks like." Ultimately, the lack of cobblestones was a minor practical inconvenience, despite its major aesthetic failing. That is to say: we easily checked into our hotel (Casa Wagner, as in Braşov), but none of our photos were nearly as romantic as the watercolor street art for sale.

At this stage of the trip, my enthusiasm for churches and castle turrets was noticeably in decline. Still, I casually followed my party up to the large church, at the very height of the citadel, as well as around the walls and through the winding streets of the well-preserved city. While my enthusiasm for the structures was smaller, my enjoyment of photography remained unshaken. Thus, I'm sure I appeared to have an intense interest in blurry architectural features and piles of cobblestones.

Our time in Sighişoara passed more quickly than I might have liked, and before we knew it we were in another taxi, headed for the inaptly-named "Târga Mureş" airport. Our young, timid taxi driver had no idea where this small, international runway-with-a-security-checkpoint actually was, and his (allegedly more experienced) dispatcher was little aid. Unexpectedly, and entirely unhelpfully, it turned out that the Târga Mureş airport is actually quite a lot closer to Cluj than its namesake. Maps of the area are altogether vague, with respect to this airport, and the only noticeable signage is, literally, within stone's throw of the airport entrance. A large, heavy, mostly unthrowable stone, that is. Suffice it to say that this airport did little to improve my opinion of air travel. I'll say no more.

That's right, we flew out of Romania. Why? Good question, noble reader. Our next destination was Buda, and the nearby Pest (hereafter referred to as Budapest). Overnight train tickets were, so I'm told, substantially more expensive than air travel via WizzAir. I'd like to clarify, though, that I in no way recommend travel out of the unwisely named Târga Mureş airport, even if the cost of the equivalent night train is more expensive. Night trains rock, people. You can't double-fist 2 liters of cheap, Romanian beer on an airplane, these days. And the people who tend to chose airplanes are usually boring and asocial, anyway. Vote Night Trains!

I'll close with that little endorsement. Next stop, Budapest: the city of the (not so) blue Danube.