18 Jun 2014 Brasov, Sinaia
As we wake up, it is still raining. To the south, about 40 km away, is Sinaia, the home of the famous Kastel Peles. The folks on the train had said: don´t miss Sinaia. The boys on the train from the day before had said: don´t miss Babele, at the top of a long cable car, from Bustele, about 5 km north of Sinaia. Since we have paid for the two days of our hotel room, we ask: will it rain in Brasov? YES. Will it rain in Sinaia? NO. So day trip it is. But whether we will get to the cable car is still a very open question.
Note: Before the end of WWI, Sinaia was in Romania and Brasov (Kronstadt) was in Austro-Hungary.
Before we leave, we have a few errands. It is laundry day, and there is a laundry at STAR a few blocks away. There is also a market next to STAR, both indoor and outdoor. Indoors you get meat, cheese, bread, and wine (the kind they dispense into your own bottle and real bottled wine). There is also a vending machine that dispenses 10-egg cartons (Eggomatic?), and a vending machine that delivers a liter of (raw?) milk into reusable special liter bottles. Outdoors are vegetables, fruit and flowers. So we shop away (cheese, bread, salami, wine, carrots, radishes, apricots, cherries).
STAR is a 4-story department store. One of the spaces is a laundry. But the building doesn´t open until 9:30 am. Finally, 9:30 comes. We go back to our room, and drop off some of our food goodies, collect our laundry bag, with four days of dirty clothing, and go back. The laundry is in a corner on the 1st floor. How much? we ask. It weighs 3.5 kg (7.7 lbs) and the price is 16 lei per kg ($2.30 per lb) so 56 lei it is. It is much higher than we have paid so far, but what choice do we have? Sometimes the only way out is paid laundry, which will be ready at 6 pm.
It is now about 10:30 am. Back to the hotel, then to the bus stop, take a 51 bus 3 km (6 stops) to the Bus Station, immediately next to the train station.
There loading up is a Bucuresti bus which goes through Sinaia. So we hop on. We pay 11 lei apiece, and wait for the bus to leave, and wait, and wait. Finally, at noon, we finally leave.
The bus gently climbs the pass at Predeal (which we had also been told to visit) (was this the pre-WWI boundary?) and then wends its way onward. Finally, we get off at Sinaia. There is a young gentleman from Brazil/Holland, Anibal, who also gets off. We are going in the same direction, so we go off together.
Lonely Planet shows that the palace as apx 1.5 km away, reachable by a series of winding roads, and obviously uphill. So we find some stairs, and stopping every so often to check our bearings, we walk.
After a while, we reach the Sinaia Monastery. We pay the 7 lei to get in (Mike, 5; Carol, the just-retired "student," 2). The main church was built in the 1840s and is a classical church with a big chandelier and formal painted icons.
Next door is a museum with a 1685 Bible and numerous paintings and icons, from previous iterations of this church. Our bonus is a small church next door from the 16th century that was replaced by the current church.
Time to continue uphill. At a turn, we are no longer on a road, but on a wide walkway. The first sign to Peles points the way. Soon we see the tchocke vendors, and thereafter the castle itself. The vendors doing really well are selling small baskets of fresh fruit to the childen. The guy selling a kind of boomerang also profits. This crowd is not looking to buy embroidery, etc.
It starts raining as we approach the castle - so much for the weather predictions of hotel staff.
This castle was built as a summer palace for King Carol I (no relation!) and his wife Elisabeta. It was started in 1875 and finished 39 years later, just as the king was dying. LP says: "The first European castle to have central heating, electricity and vacuuming (!)" It has 160 rooms - really humble.
It is the most opulent building we have ever seen. Even Disney cannot compete (after all, everything is original). King Carol I had way too much money for his own good.
You can see the main floor on the basic ticket. For extra, they throw in the top floors. Photography and video also extra.
We opt for just the main floor (Mike 20, Carol the student 10). But we also buy tickets for Pelesior, the small castle next door, also 20 & 10. For evidence that she is a student, Carol has been presenting her Emory card. Sometimes they take it - sometimes they don´t. Anyway, the total is 60 lei ($18.60). If you want to see the upstairs of Peles, it is hugely more expensive, unless you are a student. Our friend, Anibal, wants to see the upstairs of Peles, but not Pelesior, so we bid him farewell.
The Peles castle has the finest rugs, paintings, marble, etc. It has a room of armaments from the 15th century to the end of the 19th century. Many of the suits of mail would be too small to fit Carol. Fine lot of good this collection of weaponry did Romania in WWI, which was after all fought with tanks, heavy artillery, and eventually airplanes and poison gas. (Actually, Romania came out quite well after WWI. The Treaty of Versailles gave it Transylvania, Bucovina and Moldova, and doubled (apx) its size.)
Visitors have to wait to enter until a tour of your language (in this case, English) could be assembled. So we waited, and waited while 2 or 3 large Romanian school groups were admitted (a visit to this castle is probably a must for all students). Finally, it was our turn. Visitors have to put on a cloth mini-shoe over their street shoes to protect the carpets. You can´t take pictures or video without the special expensive ticket. About halfway through the tour, however, so many people were taking pictures that Mike started also. Every kind of fantasy room you can imagine: Turkish style, Austrian style, etc. Lots of marble columns. Our guide rattled off many stories that she had surely repeated 1000 times.
We walked up to the castle at 2:00 pm, were admitted at 2:30 pm, and back out at 3:15 pm.
It is still raining, but not very hard. We find a dryish place, and quickly down some of the food we have in our backpack. We then head uphill to see the Pelesior castle. This castle was built by the nephew of King Carol, who became the kingś adopted son after their only child, a daughter, died of scarlet fever at age 4. He ruled Romania between WWI and WWII. (Russia grabbed Moldova in 1940, and parts of Bucovina were incorporated into the new Ukraine after WWII. Soon Romania became Communist, and soon it was ruled by Caucescu, who was deposed and killed in December 1989.) We were told that some time after the death of Caucescu, the kingś descendants moved back, and now live in Brasov.
Anyway, Pelesior, while quite magnificent, is a small castle compared to Peles, and is tame Art Deco instead of gonzo lavish. We walk through its three floors fairly quickly, and we are out at 4:15 pm.
We walk out the same way, but at the Monastery we take a different turn, and lo and behold, we are right at the train station/bus stop. Within 3 minutes a bus comes along. We buy our 11 lei tickets, and are off back to Brasov. It is now 5 pm.
A trip to Babele is now completely out of the question. It is too late, and it is probably raining at the top. Too bad.
Back in Brasov, we see two female tourists going to a hostel in the old town. We are all taking the 51 bus, so we promise to show them their stop. We will get off where we had gotten off the day before, and they would continue on to the Black Church stop. Unfortunately, the 51 bus stopped at a different stop near our hotel, so we also wound up riding past the Black Church. This gave us the opportunity of finally viewing the Black Church.
The gentleman at the admission counter scoffed at Carolś student documents, so we paid 8 lei each.
This church, originally from between 1385 and 1480 (apparently, the records are somewhat hazy about this point), had been burnt and rebuilt several times, hence "black" for the char on the stones. Like many of the major Transylvanian churches, it too was converted in the Reformation. It is one of the classic west European cathedral style. Though photos were forbidden, Mike managed to get off a few blurry shots. We walk past the hotel to retrieve our expensive laundry, and back to the hotel.
We are going back to Casa Romaneasca for dinner, but will go slightly out of our way to try to see the two old synagogues of Brasov. First is the Orthodox synagogue on Str. Castelului 64. We walk by. It is locked. We ring a few bells, and can get no one to open the door.
The second is the Schei Synagogue, very near the Schei Gate. Did we say that Brasov was a walled city, and a good bit of the walls remain?
Anyway, the synagogue is open. There is a Jewish film festival, and an artsy film is about the life of the French singer Serge Gainsbourg is showing. Too much heavy symbolism. We watch for 10 minutes or so, decide food is more important, and leave.
On to the restaurant, where we have Ciorba Ardeleneasca (the soup of the region), Cotlet Surpriza (a piece of meat baked in a pastry and topped with Haiduk sauce), Carnati Oi Picante (6 spicy lamb sausages), Clatite Brasovena (a kind of sweet Brasov style pancake), and an espresso. 61 lei.
We take the bus 2 stops, back to the hotel, in part to figure out where the bus stops actually are. Like most of the cities on this trip, bus stops are apx 1/2 km, or 1500 feet, apart, and you had best know where they are, or you are in for a whole lot of walking.
We get in some much needed internet time, and then to bed.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Saturday, June 28, 2014
17 Jun 2014 Sighisoara to Brasov
17 Jun 2014 Sighisoara to Brasov
Our pensiune has a fully furnished kitchen, but does not serve breakfast. We have been invited to use the kitchen, so at apx 7 am, we go there and proceed to work down our food bag. The kitchen has a few tsp of ground coffee, filters, and a drip machine, so we make 2 cups of coffee. Nothing like home brew with leftovers.
Finally, we are off to town, this time to climb the Citadel.
Sighisoara is a little town (26000) visited primarily because of its hilltop citadel. As a citadel town, in Mike's opinion, it pales in comparison to other citadel towns (e.g., Carcassone). But it is a big Romanian tourist destination, and has a "Vlad Tepes slept here" draw.
Because we are climbing in at 8:45 am, not a creature is stirring in Tourist Central, except the snails, Fromans, and a large group of Japanese tourists. Nothing is yet open, including the Tourist Info place. It is quiet, except for dozens and dozens of students hurriedly climbing up to high school, conveniently located at the top of the highest point on the Citadel. There is a covered stairway for inclement weather (and all winter?). Otherwise, you can walk the curving cobblestone road up to the high point.
Our plan of attack is to go up to the high point first, then gradually come down. We are at the high school as the bell rings, but for the next half hour we see stragglers climbing up. Not many kids can say they have to climb 400 ft up to school every morning.
Next to the school is the old Church on the Hill. It is not clear what the denomination of the church is, but even though it is locked, it has probably been evangelical or reformed at some time or other. The cemetery next door has a large evangelical section.
As we come down, the tourists are waking up, and shops are beginning to open. By 9:50 am we are at the famous Clock Tower, with a clock that is supposed to do fancy things as it strikes the hour. A crowd has gathered. We are all set for filming, but nothing much happens as it turns 10:00, 10:01, and 10:02, . . .
There are big lines to climb the tower, so we go down into town. We have already been uphill of this point, so we don't need the vista. We still need to reserve a room for tonight, and we still have not found internet. But we are in trouble. So far, we have been doing our best to avoid Dracula on this trip. And now, we walk past Casa Vlad Dracul, where he lived from 1431 to 1435. Can´t avoid dark forces!
The tourist info place is now open, with a fine agent. He is kind enough to let us use his computer free for 10 min. We log onto the booking.com site, and find info for the big city of Brasov. We find an listing for an apartment near the train station: SynConcepts Apts for 127 lei (a very reasonable price), and book it for arrival that afternoon.
(A note about booking.com. They have managed to convince most hotels and pensions that they need to list at least a couple of rooms, usually at a discount. If the room is taken, the hotel pays a 15% commission to booking.com. This is partly why we find that although the booking states "Breakfast included," it is often not included. Still, the site provides a selection is often 5 times what you get find in Lonely Planet or other guidebooks.)
Mike is now beat. All he wants is to sit in a cafe over a cappuccino until noon, when he will order a pizza. He finds a nice eatery where he can chill out, and orders a spectacular Cafe Viennese, with a huge dollop of whipped cream on top. Worth the price.
Meanwhile, Carol goes out wandering. On the recommendation of some guys at a laptop store, she walks over to Hotel Binderbubi, a 5* hotel (yup, that is really its name), and sees an unused computer in the lobby.
In English, she asks: Please, please, and they say: Of course. So she retrieves Mike, depriving him of his much anticipated pizza.
We get in a good hour+ of posting. Then back quickly to the pensiune room, with a 5 min stop to look inside the beautiful cathedral (where their has just been a special service. Wedding? Funeral? Can't tell.). We retrieve our backpacks from our room and walk the 5 minutes to the train station.
We are in plenty of time. However, because we are taking the same Cluj-Brasov line (where there was rail construction), of course the train is posted as 40 minutes delayed. While we are waiting, we spot a station restaurant loaded with people. One guy, with his cigarettes and beer, has claimed a whole table. Several folks are on their 2nd (or 5th) beer of the day. We order a yogurt drink. The guy claiming a whole table had to make room for us, as we all wait.
Finally, the train comes in, maybe an hour late. We are in a compartment of 4. Across sit three elderly folks - one of whom speaks excellent English. She was a retired engineer. She had done a lot of travelling - including working in Iraq. She also has lots of opinions - on Hungarians, Gypsies, Communists, etc. When I asked if she were Romanian or Hungarian, she answered Romanian (of course!), as if the alternative was unthinkable. She went into a long discussion about how unfortunate it was that the Gypsies were called Rom, thus confusing the whole word about their non-relationship to Romanians, the true inheritor of that name. When asked about what was happening in the Ukraine, with the Russians posturing to invade eastern Ukraine, at the very least, she said what we had heard numerous times before, that all Romanians were very afraid at what was happening to the East. Still, she was a charming lady, and we had a wonderful conversation.
We were supposed to get in to Brasov a little after 1600. We got in to the busy Brasov train station around 1700. Outside are many local buses. We try to buy senior citizen bus tickets, with no luck. "Only for locals." A young man with excellent English helps us to orient: "Be careful."
We took a bus to the address for the SynConcepts Apt., quite near the train station. It is an ordinary 5 story apartment building. It appears to be partially business and partly residential. We see SynConcepts listed for Unit 16. We try to buzz in, but no response. A resident enters and we follow: Apt 16 is locked. When we knock, a dog barks, but that is all. We give up. (Addendum: A few days later, we are assessed a 29 euro penalty by booking.com for being a No Show. We complain vehemently, and SynConcepts withdraws the penalty request.) We give up, call a "more expensive" hotel in Lonely Planet, ascertain that they have rooms, and take a bus there. That hotel, Hotel Coroana, is listed as 220 lei. When we get there, to a prime center city location, it is only ** (not ***) and it is charging 135 lei per room. The rooms are faded, but were once fairly spectacular. We luck out! We have a spacious room, with comfortable beds, lots of TV channels, and high ceilings. If you wait 5 minutes running the water, it gets hot.
It is 7:30 pm and time to walk 1.5 km to a highly regarded restaurant in Piata Unirii, Cafe Romaneasca. It has started raining, HARD. We order a tochitura of the region, a sarmaluta (both dishes come with mamaliguta), an eggplant salad (zesty and garlicky), and an Ursus black beer. For dessert we get one order of a doughnut like dessert. 56 lei total. Delicious.
Dinner is over. The rain is now down to a hard drizzle. We walk back to our hotel and some TV. Some of our papers and maps are wet, and we spread them out to dry. Long day.
Our pensiune has a fully furnished kitchen, but does not serve breakfast. We have been invited to use the kitchen, so at apx 7 am, we go there and proceed to work down our food bag. The kitchen has a few tsp of ground coffee, filters, and a drip machine, so we make 2 cups of coffee. Nothing like home brew with leftovers.
Finally, we are off to town, this time to climb the Citadel.
Sighisoara is a little town (26000) visited primarily because of its hilltop citadel. As a citadel town, in Mike's opinion, it pales in comparison to other citadel towns (e.g., Carcassone). But it is a big Romanian tourist destination, and has a "Vlad Tepes slept here" draw.
Because we are climbing in at 8:45 am, not a creature is stirring in Tourist Central, except the snails, Fromans, and a large group of Japanese tourists. Nothing is yet open, including the Tourist Info place. It is quiet, except for dozens and dozens of students hurriedly climbing up to high school, conveniently located at the top of the highest point on the Citadel. There is a covered stairway for inclement weather (and all winter?). Otherwise, you can walk the curving cobblestone road up to the high point.
Our plan of attack is to go up to the high point first, then gradually come down. We are at the high school as the bell rings, but for the next half hour we see stragglers climbing up. Not many kids can say they have to climb 400 ft up to school every morning.
Next to the school is the old Church on the Hill. It is not clear what the denomination of the church is, but even though it is locked, it has probably been evangelical or reformed at some time or other. The cemetery next door has a large evangelical section.
As we come down, the tourists are waking up, and shops are beginning to open. By 9:50 am we are at the famous Clock Tower, with a clock that is supposed to do fancy things as it strikes the hour. A crowd has gathered. We are all set for filming, but nothing much happens as it turns 10:00, 10:01, and 10:02, . . .
There are big lines to climb the tower, so we go down into town. We have already been uphill of this point, so we don't need the vista. We still need to reserve a room for tonight, and we still have not found internet. But we are in trouble. So far, we have been doing our best to avoid Dracula on this trip. And now, we walk past Casa Vlad Dracul, where he lived from 1431 to 1435. Can´t avoid dark forces!
The tourist info place is now open, with a fine agent. He is kind enough to let us use his computer free for 10 min. We log onto the booking.com site, and find info for the big city of Brasov. We find an listing for an apartment near the train station: SynConcepts Apts for 127 lei (a very reasonable price), and book it for arrival that afternoon.
(A note about booking.com. They have managed to convince most hotels and pensions that they need to list at least a couple of rooms, usually at a discount. If the room is taken, the hotel pays a 15% commission to booking.com. This is partly why we find that although the booking states "Breakfast included," it is often not included. Still, the site provides a selection is often 5 times what you get find in Lonely Planet or other guidebooks.)
Mike is now beat. All he wants is to sit in a cafe over a cappuccino until noon, when he will order a pizza. He finds a nice eatery where he can chill out, and orders a spectacular Cafe Viennese, with a huge dollop of whipped cream on top. Worth the price.
Meanwhile, Carol goes out wandering. On the recommendation of some guys at a laptop store, she walks over to Hotel Binderbubi, a 5* hotel (yup, that is really its name), and sees an unused computer in the lobby.
In English, she asks: Please, please, and they say: Of course. So she retrieves Mike, depriving him of his much anticipated pizza.
We get in a good hour+ of posting. Then back quickly to the pensiune room, with a 5 min stop to look inside the beautiful cathedral (where their has just been a special service. Wedding? Funeral? Can't tell.). We retrieve our backpacks from our room and walk the 5 minutes to the train station.
We are in plenty of time. However, because we are taking the same Cluj-Brasov line (where there was rail construction), of course the train is posted as 40 minutes delayed. While we are waiting, we spot a station restaurant loaded with people. One guy, with his cigarettes and beer, has claimed a whole table. Several folks are on their 2nd (or 5th) beer of the day. We order a yogurt drink. The guy claiming a whole table had to make room for us, as we all wait.
Finally, the train comes in, maybe an hour late. We are in a compartment of 4. Across sit three elderly folks - one of whom speaks excellent English. She was a retired engineer. She had done a lot of travelling - including working in Iraq. She also has lots of opinions - on Hungarians, Gypsies, Communists, etc. When I asked if she were Romanian or Hungarian, she answered Romanian (of course!), as if the alternative was unthinkable. She went into a long discussion about how unfortunate it was that the Gypsies were called Rom, thus confusing the whole word about their non-relationship to Romanians, the true inheritor of that name. When asked about what was happening in the Ukraine, with the Russians posturing to invade eastern Ukraine, at the very least, she said what we had heard numerous times before, that all Romanians were very afraid at what was happening to the East. Still, she was a charming lady, and we had a wonderful conversation.
We were supposed to get in to Brasov a little after 1600. We got in to the busy Brasov train station around 1700. Outside are many local buses. We try to buy senior citizen bus tickets, with no luck. "Only for locals." A young man with excellent English helps us to orient: "Be careful."
We took a bus to the address for the SynConcepts Apt., quite near the train station. It is an ordinary 5 story apartment building. It appears to be partially business and partly residential. We see SynConcepts listed for Unit 16. We try to buzz in, but no response. A resident enters and we follow: Apt 16 is locked. When we knock, a dog barks, but that is all. We give up. (Addendum: A few days later, we are assessed a 29 euro penalty by booking.com for being a No Show. We complain vehemently, and SynConcepts withdraws the penalty request.) We give up, call a "more expensive" hotel in Lonely Planet, ascertain that they have rooms, and take a bus there. That hotel, Hotel Coroana, is listed as 220 lei. When we get there, to a prime center city location, it is only ** (not ***) and it is charging 135 lei per room. The rooms are faded, but were once fairly spectacular. We luck out! We have a spacious room, with comfortable beds, lots of TV channels, and high ceilings. If you wait 5 minutes running the water, it gets hot.
It is 7:30 pm and time to walk 1.5 km to a highly regarded restaurant in Piata Unirii, Cafe Romaneasca. It has started raining, HARD. We order a tochitura of the region, a sarmaluta (both dishes come with mamaliguta), an eggplant salad (zesty and garlicky), and an Ursus black beer. For dessert we get one order of a doughnut like dessert. 56 lei total. Delicious.
Dinner is over. The rain is now down to a hard drizzle. We walk back to our hotel and some TV. Some of our papers and maps are wet, and we spread them out to dry. Long day.
16 Jun 2014 Cluj to Sighisoara
16 Jun 2014 Cluj to Sighisoara
Good Morning Cluj.
We got going around 8 am. Instead of walking down the same street, we instead take the next street to the west and go up to the top of the hill, where there was a 5* hotel and some nice views, then a LONG set of stairs back down.
Back down and across the river, on one building was a memorial for 3 people killed on 21 Dec 1989, the day of demonstrations in Cluj.
As we were walking in the center, we came upon a pastry shop. The pastries were more in a Hungarian style than the Romanian pastries we had become used to. We purchased a strudel with caramel, a strudel with spinach and broccoli, and a pateu with cheese. Two coffees. Total 17.5 lei.
We were in a town that was both Hungarian and Romanian. For the first time, the money changers also changed Hungarian forints. We didn´t realize it at the time, but Cluj also has a Sachsen-German history, and its name is also Klaussenburg, or Klossenbrigge.
Two girls on the street explain that school classes are given in many languages: Romanian, Hungarian, French, German, English. You pick the class with the language in mind. They were Hungarian. Do the Hungarians and Romanians get along? So far, was the answer, but maybe not in the future.
Across the street was the Lutheran Evangelic Church. The signs are in 4 languages (Romanian, English, Hungarian, German). Cluj was greatly affected by the Reformation, and in 1543, a number of its churches ceased being Roman Catholic, and became Lutheran Reformed.
A couple of doors away was a tourist office. The guy there pulled up a document with info on the former Jewish sites and marked up a map for us. Kudos to him.
But first, off to the market. We pass a spice shop with as many as 100 spices, including, believe it or not, Szechuan peppercorns, which didn´t seem so fresh. Hard to imagine how Szechuan peppercorns fit into either Hungarian or Romanian cooking. There was a map of the world covered in whole spices - the spices were wrong for many of the countries, but the idea was admirable.
Finally, on to the market, where we pigged out on all sorts of perishable eat-em-immediately stuff: frangole (remember Bacau), zmeura (raspberries), and afine (really tiny blueberries, smaller than we ever see in the U.S.). We ended up holding on to a small plastic tray - instead of getting the fruit in a plastic bag, where it deteriorates immediately, we purchased only what fit into our plastic tray. There were many Romani sellers.
As we walked around the market, we came across a store entitled Crama Tohani. Lo and behold, we walk in and they will dispense wine into any bottle you present. We think that "crama" means winecellar or tavern. So for 2.5 lei, we purchased 30 cl (our old US Minute Maid OJ bottle) of dry red wine. Absolutely the right size for 2 enjoyable long slugs. Yummy!
Back into the market for a toilet, where we find sellers of "crud" (raw) milk. Also, here you get "crap" (Romanian for carp). Romania - home of crap and crud.
On the street we see a market: Borsarock. It is 11, and the owner is just opening it. It is a store for Hungarian wines, and the owner tells us why. Romanian wines are generally to Communist standards, and are mostly shitty (his words), while Hungarian wines, esp., Tokaj, are to the highest standards. We could have talked for longer, but we had taken 20 minutes of his time, and a real customer had come in.
We pass two churches, the Transformation of our Lord Cathedral, with its plain high cathedral style, and the Greek Schimbarea la Fata.
We had seen piadina stores, a Cluj specialty, and Mike had to try one, so for 11 lei we got a "Venezia" (prosciutto, gorgonzola, and rucola) to go. It is like a thin focaccia grilled with the cheese, then the meat is added and it is folded over.
It is now noon, and it is time to find some of the Jewish sites. The first one we find is the Jewish community center. We walk in and find a bustling place. Unlike the Jews of Moldavia and Bucovina, who had been in the area for hundreds of years (since 1600?) and spoke Yiddish, the Jews of Cluj were there by permission of the Austro-Hungarian empire, came in the mid to late 1800s, spoke Hungarian, and had a tendency to adopt the Reforms adopted by German Jews. They were safe until May 1944, when the Hungarians deported almost all of them to the death camps. There were now 400 maybe-Jews (mixed marriage), of whom 140 consider themselves Jews and participate in the Jewish community.
Time is running short. We walk by the former site of the mikveh, and stop to eat our piadine. Carol wasn´t thrilled: too little filling, too salty.
We are near 16 Str. Gheorghe Baritiu, where there once was a synagogue. Now just a routine store. To the left is a door. We go in. Back behind are a series of 4-6 homes. We walk back and at the end of the property is an old building, the former synagogue. We knock.
The new proprietors of the space, now a place for exhibitions, arranged rental from the Jewish community in 1974 of this totally rundown space. It had been used very hard, and had deteriorated badly. Very little of the former synagogue was left, but you could glimpse bits of the old building, and a little Hebrew on the ceiling. The painted ceiling still remained in places, but the Ark wall was blank. The site currently houses a very graphic exhibit on the Prague Uprising. The 2 people we spoke to are passionate about the politics of memory. They gave us a small book with photos from the Holocaust.
It was now 1 pm. On to the Neologa Synagog, restored in 2012, and now locked up. Up the hill to the hotel. We retrieve our bags and take a cab for the 6 lei ride down the hill. We in plenty of time for our 2 pm train to Sighisoara.
The train is scheduled to take 4 1/2 hours. Because there is track work, it ends up coming in about 40 minutes late. The car is nowhere near full, and across from us were 2 college age students. They are actually 20 & 21. They have procured jobs in the US doing housekeeping for the summer. They are taking the train from Cluj to Bucuresti, then a taxi to Otopeni Airport. They will catch a 3 am flight to Lisbon, and from Lisbon to Newark. There they will be picked up and taken to "Ocean City," where they will work for the summer. At the end of the summer, they have some free time to travel.
We are confused and think that they are going to Ocean City, NJ. Actually, they are going to Ocean City, Maryland, where they will be fairly isolated, we believe. Anyway, we talk about the US, US food (one is absolutely dying to try Taco Bell), US customs, and their hopes and dreams. We don´t have the heart to tell them these kinds of jobs are commonly exploitative.
Anyway, we get to Sighisoara. We buy rail tickets to Brasov for the next day. We walk the 150 m to our hotel, Pensiune Mario. Our proprietress has given us a very nice room for only 100 lei ($31). We ask what time is checkout? She asks when is your train? We say 1343. She says 1330 is OK.
We have a little time to walk into town before it gets dark. It is starting to drizzle lightly. Imagine our surprise when we come across a memorial to the deceased Romanian soldiers who died in WWII. The memorial is in Russian, Romanian, and Hungarian, and prominently features the red hammer and sickle. Romanians are profoundly anti-Russian and anti-Communist. We had assumed that they had purged ALL of these symbols. Apparently not here.
We cross a small river to get to the center. A local, maybe disabled or autistic, comes up to us and tells us he will be our guide in finding dinner. We say we don´t need a guide and give him a 1 leu note to disappear. There is a pizzeria, but as we walk a little more, we find two restaurants. The more expensive one has more customers, but we break our custom of going to the most popular restaurant, and go to the one w/o customers. There we order gulas, a tochitura from the region, and an eggplant salad (with tomatoes and onions). The tochitura features an orange yolk fried egg on the mamaliguta. 41 lei. Pretty good.
The rain has let up. We walk back late and go to bed.
Good Morning Cluj.
We got going around 8 am. Instead of walking down the same street, we instead take the next street to the west and go up to the top of the hill, where there was a 5* hotel and some nice views, then a LONG set of stairs back down.
Back down and across the river, on one building was a memorial for 3 people killed on 21 Dec 1989, the day of demonstrations in Cluj.
As we were walking in the center, we came upon a pastry shop. The pastries were more in a Hungarian style than the Romanian pastries we had become used to. We purchased a strudel with caramel, a strudel with spinach and broccoli, and a pateu with cheese. Two coffees. Total 17.5 lei.
We were in a town that was both Hungarian and Romanian. For the first time, the money changers also changed Hungarian forints. We didn´t realize it at the time, but Cluj also has a Sachsen-German history, and its name is also Klaussenburg, or Klossenbrigge.
Two girls on the street explain that school classes are given in many languages: Romanian, Hungarian, French, German, English. You pick the class with the language in mind. They were Hungarian. Do the Hungarians and Romanians get along? So far, was the answer, but maybe not in the future.
Across the street was the Lutheran Evangelic Church. The signs are in 4 languages (Romanian, English, Hungarian, German). Cluj was greatly affected by the Reformation, and in 1543, a number of its churches ceased being Roman Catholic, and became Lutheran Reformed.
A couple of doors away was a tourist office. The guy there pulled up a document with info on the former Jewish sites and marked up a map for us. Kudos to him.
But first, off to the market. We pass a spice shop with as many as 100 spices, including, believe it or not, Szechuan peppercorns, which didn´t seem so fresh. Hard to imagine how Szechuan peppercorns fit into either Hungarian or Romanian cooking. There was a map of the world covered in whole spices - the spices were wrong for many of the countries, but the idea was admirable.
Finally, on to the market, where we pigged out on all sorts of perishable eat-em-immediately stuff: frangole (remember Bacau), zmeura (raspberries), and afine (really tiny blueberries, smaller than we ever see in the U.S.). We ended up holding on to a small plastic tray - instead of getting the fruit in a plastic bag, where it deteriorates immediately, we purchased only what fit into our plastic tray. There were many Romani sellers.
As we walked around the market, we came across a store entitled Crama Tohani. Lo and behold, we walk in and they will dispense wine into any bottle you present. We think that "crama" means winecellar or tavern. So for 2.5 lei, we purchased 30 cl (our old US Minute Maid OJ bottle) of dry red wine. Absolutely the right size for 2 enjoyable long slugs. Yummy!
Back into the market for a toilet, where we find sellers of "crud" (raw) milk. Also, here you get "crap" (Romanian for carp). Romania - home of crap and crud.
On the street we see a market: Borsarock. It is 11, and the owner is just opening it. It is a store for Hungarian wines, and the owner tells us why. Romanian wines are generally to Communist standards, and are mostly shitty (his words), while Hungarian wines, esp., Tokaj, are to the highest standards. We could have talked for longer, but we had taken 20 minutes of his time, and a real customer had come in.
We pass two churches, the Transformation of our Lord Cathedral, with its plain high cathedral style, and the Greek Schimbarea la Fata.
We had seen piadina stores, a Cluj specialty, and Mike had to try one, so for 11 lei we got a "Venezia" (prosciutto, gorgonzola, and rucola) to go. It is like a thin focaccia grilled with the cheese, then the meat is added and it is folded over.
It is now noon, and it is time to find some of the Jewish sites. The first one we find is the Jewish community center. We walk in and find a bustling place. Unlike the Jews of Moldavia and Bucovina, who had been in the area for hundreds of years (since 1600?) and spoke Yiddish, the Jews of Cluj were there by permission of the Austro-Hungarian empire, came in the mid to late 1800s, spoke Hungarian, and had a tendency to adopt the Reforms adopted by German Jews. They were safe until May 1944, when the Hungarians deported almost all of them to the death camps. There were now 400 maybe-Jews (mixed marriage), of whom 140 consider themselves Jews and participate in the Jewish community.
Time is running short. We walk by the former site of the mikveh, and stop to eat our piadine. Carol wasn´t thrilled: too little filling, too salty.
We are near 16 Str. Gheorghe Baritiu, where there once was a synagogue. Now just a routine store. To the left is a door. We go in. Back behind are a series of 4-6 homes. We walk back and at the end of the property is an old building, the former synagogue. We knock.
The new proprietors of the space, now a place for exhibitions, arranged rental from the Jewish community in 1974 of this totally rundown space. It had been used very hard, and had deteriorated badly. Very little of the former synagogue was left, but you could glimpse bits of the old building, and a little Hebrew on the ceiling. The painted ceiling still remained in places, but the Ark wall was blank. The site currently houses a very graphic exhibit on the Prague Uprising. The 2 people we spoke to are passionate about the politics of memory. They gave us a small book with photos from the Holocaust.
It was now 1 pm. On to the Neologa Synagog, restored in 2012, and now locked up. Up the hill to the hotel. We retrieve our bags and take a cab for the 6 lei ride down the hill. We in plenty of time for our 2 pm train to Sighisoara.
The train is scheduled to take 4 1/2 hours. Because there is track work, it ends up coming in about 40 minutes late. The car is nowhere near full, and across from us were 2 college age students. They are actually 20 & 21. They have procured jobs in the US doing housekeeping for the summer. They are taking the train from Cluj to Bucuresti, then a taxi to Otopeni Airport. They will catch a 3 am flight to Lisbon, and from Lisbon to Newark. There they will be picked up and taken to "Ocean City," where they will work for the summer. At the end of the summer, they have some free time to travel.
We are confused and think that they are going to Ocean City, NJ. Actually, they are going to Ocean City, Maryland, where they will be fairly isolated, we believe. Anyway, we talk about the US, US food (one is absolutely dying to try Taco Bell), US customs, and their hopes and dreams. We don´t have the heart to tell them these kinds of jobs are commonly exploitative.
Anyway, we get to Sighisoara. We buy rail tickets to Brasov for the next day. We walk the 150 m to our hotel, Pensiune Mario. Our proprietress has given us a very nice room for only 100 lei ($31). We ask what time is checkout? She asks when is your train? We say 1343. She says 1330 is OK.
We have a little time to walk into town before it gets dark. It is starting to drizzle lightly. Imagine our surprise when we come across a memorial to the deceased Romanian soldiers who died in WWII. The memorial is in Russian, Romanian, and Hungarian, and prominently features the red hammer and sickle. Romanians are profoundly anti-Russian and anti-Communist. We had assumed that they had purged ALL of these symbols. Apparently not here.
We cross a small river to get to the center. A local, maybe disabled or autistic, comes up to us and tells us he will be our guide in finding dinner. We say we don´t need a guide and give him a 1 leu note to disappear. There is a pizzeria, but as we walk a little more, we find two restaurants. The more expensive one has more customers, but we break our custom of going to the most popular restaurant, and go to the one w/o customers. There we order gulas, a tochitura from the region, and an eggplant salad (with tomatoes and onions). The tochitura features an orange yolk fried egg on the mamaliguta. 41 lei. Pretty good.
The rain has let up. We walk back late and go to bed.
Saturday, June 21, 2014
15 Jun 2014 Cluj-Napoca
15 Jun 2014 Cluj-Napoca
Our train is scheduled to leave at 8:17 am. We are carrying lots of food from shopping the day before, and are well fortified. We return the laptop to the desk, and turn in our key.
The train is on time. We are assigned to an 8 person compartment. There is already one other passenger inside. She moves to one corner and we take the window seats. Although she said she spoke English and is going all the way from Suceava to Arad, we hardly exchange a word during the 7 hour trip.
Time to soak in the country scenery. Up to now, we have seen pyramid shaped hay bales formed around a vertical central pole. Now we also see some hayricks, with the hay laid over a horizontal framework. Maybe the primary grass is different here. Who knows? At one point we take a photo of what appears to be a tandoor-like oven in someone's back yard. Other than polishing off some of our packed food, it is a totally uneventful train ride. Time to read and sleep.
We arrive in Cluj at 3:18 pm, right on time. Our former seatmate will probably not get to Arad until 9 pm. In the station we buy our train tickets for Sighisoara for tomorrow's trip. Then we put on our backpacks, and head toward tonight's hotel.
Our walk is approximately 1/2 km uphill. We pass lots of impressive houses, something called the Chill Tea House, and a hostel. Our sidewalk has wide shallow steps; we gravitate to walking in the road for convenience.
The Seven Hotel has received its name because seven streets meet at the traffic center in front. We check in, pay 150 lei ($46.50). We also arrange to use the computer in the hotel office. We take our luggage up to our room, a little faded (but still nice and quiet). We had out and walk down to the town center. We cross a little creek to a compact center.
The city's double name, Cluj-Napoca, hints at its Greco-Roman roots: it was mentioned by Ptolemy; became a city during the reign of Emperor Hadrian; Marcus Aurelius elevated it to a colony. Some pedigree. Today Cluj is a city filled with universities and students. Even the graffiti is more literate. At its center is the large Piata Unirii. Just northwest is a restaurant, Matei Corwin, that we read about in a blog. We were feeling exhausted, so we stopped for a frappe and an iced coffee, which contained ice cream and chocolate. Hit the spot.
Suitably refreshed, we walked into the small neighborhood northwest of the piata. We stumbled onto a newly erected (May 2014) holocaust memorial in a park. We take out some of our printouts. They indicate a synagogue on the next street over. We briefly walk back and forth, but are unsuccessful in finding it.
A few blocks onward to the south, we pass a student center. There are large crowds milling about. Apparently, many students have just received their diplomas. These mortarboard wearing young people are surrounded by family and friends. Boffo business for flower sellers, who have set up shop close by in abundance. We duck into the student center for a quick WC visit, and a search for posting of current happenings.
Our guidebook indicates a large cemetery a few blocks away. It is supposed to contain a Jewish section in the northeast corner. We enter the cemetery which turns out to be almost completely Hungarian. After all, you just don't bury Hungarians and Romanians together. Off in the far corner, separated by a wall, are the graves of the Jewish cemetery. There is no access from the rest of the cemetery, however, it appears to be accessible through a building on an adjoining street.
It is now 6:30 pm. We are hungry. We exit the cemetery and head back to Restaurant Matei Corwin. On the way we pass through Piata Unirii. We dicover that it is the site of an ice cream festival. Romanian term for a scoop (50 g) is "glob". Globs away! The ice cream looked so good that we each had a 2 glob cone, and then, from a different vendor, a 1 glob cone each. First time for cantalope ice cream, a real winner. Life is uncertain, so eat your dessert first, before dinner.
According to the Cluj blogger (a techie who terms Cluj the techie capital of Romania and compares it to Silicon Valley) the pork knuckle, both on the bone and off, is not to be missed.
We order (we think) a 5.90 lei 100 g portion of pork knuckle on the bone, a 7.90 lei 100 g portion of pork knuckle w/o bones, a portion of potato salad, and a portion of cabbage salad. You also have to order your condiments, so we order a single portion of horseradish and a single portion of mustard. Of course, we also order a single beer. The total price should have been about 30 lei.
The menu was confusing, and the waitress is a bit flustered to be dealing with Ehglish. What we are served turns out to be 200 g of pork knuckle w/o bones and a portion of potato salad, horseradish and mustard for each of us. Only one beer, and one cabbage salad are served. We don't think in grams, so we gobbled it all up. The horseradish was strong, and the mustard just right. All in all a winner. The food was very tasty, and we were very happy, until a bill came for 58.60 lei. We called the manager who reduced it to 53 lei after we explained the mixup. All during our meal, on the outside terrace, we watched happy relaxed people stream by. Lots of ice cream eaters. Lots of kids with balloons. A very mellow scene.
We walked back to the Seven Hotel, where the reception was kind enough to open up the office and let us use the computer for 1:20. Around 10:15 pm, it was time to go to bed. We watch Mezzo TV for a while, and then lights out.
Our train is scheduled to leave at 8:17 am. We are carrying lots of food from shopping the day before, and are well fortified. We return the laptop to the desk, and turn in our key.
The train is on time. We are assigned to an 8 person compartment. There is already one other passenger inside. She moves to one corner and we take the window seats. Although she said she spoke English and is going all the way from Suceava to Arad, we hardly exchange a word during the 7 hour trip.
Time to soak in the country scenery. Up to now, we have seen pyramid shaped hay bales formed around a vertical central pole. Now we also see some hayricks, with the hay laid over a horizontal framework. Maybe the primary grass is different here. Who knows? At one point we take a photo of what appears to be a tandoor-like oven in someone's back yard. Other than polishing off some of our packed food, it is a totally uneventful train ride. Time to read and sleep.
We arrive in Cluj at 3:18 pm, right on time. Our former seatmate will probably not get to Arad until 9 pm. In the station we buy our train tickets for Sighisoara for tomorrow's trip. Then we put on our backpacks, and head toward tonight's hotel.
Our walk is approximately 1/2 km uphill. We pass lots of impressive houses, something called the Chill Tea House, and a hostel. Our sidewalk has wide shallow steps; we gravitate to walking in the road for convenience.
The Seven Hotel has received its name because seven streets meet at the traffic center in front. We check in, pay 150 lei ($46.50). We also arrange to use the computer in the hotel office. We take our luggage up to our room, a little faded (but still nice and quiet). We had out and walk down to the town center. We cross a little creek to a compact center.
The city's double name, Cluj-Napoca, hints at its Greco-Roman roots: it was mentioned by Ptolemy; became a city during the reign of Emperor Hadrian; Marcus Aurelius elevated it to a colony. Some pedigree. Today Cluj is a city filled with universities and students. Even the graffiti is more literate. At its center is the large Piata Unirii. Just northwest is a restaurant, Matei Corwin, that we read about in a blog. We were feeling exhausted, so we stopped for a frappe and an iced coffee, which contained ice cream and chocolate. Hit the spot.
Suitably refreshed, we walked into the small neighborhood northwest of the piata. We stumbled onto a newly erected (May 2014) holocaust memorial in a park. We take out some of our printouts. They indicate a synagogue on the next street over. We briefly walk back and forth, but are unsuccessful in finding it.
A few blocks onward to the south, we pass a student center. There are large crowds milling about. Apparently, many students have just received their diplomas. These mortarboard wearing young people are surrounded by family and friends. Boffo business for flower sellers, who have set up shop close by in abundance. We duck into the student center for a quick WC visit, and a search for posting of current happenings.
Our guidebook indicates a large cemetery a few blocks away. It is supposed to contain a Jewish section in the northeast corner. We enter the cemetery which turns out to be almost completely Hungarian. After all, you just don't bury Hungarians and Romanians together. Off in the far corner, separated by a wall, are the graves of the Jewish cemetery. There is no access from the rest of the cemetery, however, it appears to be accessible through a building on an adjoining street.
It is now 6:30 pm. We are hungry. We exit the cemetery and head back to Restaurant Matei Corwin. On the way we pass through Piata Unirii. We dicover that it is the site of an ice cream festival. Romanian term for a scoop (50 g) is "glob". Globs away! The ice cream looked so good that we each had a 2 glob cone, and then, from a different vendor, a 1 glob cone each. First time for cantalope ice cream, a real winner. Life is uncertain, so eat your dessert first, before dinner.
According to the Cluj blogger (a techie who terms Cluj the techie capital of Romania and compares it to Silicon Valley) the pork knuckle, both on the bone and off, is not to be missed.
We order (we think) a 5.90 lei 100 g portion of pork knuckle on the bone, a 7.90 lei 100 g portion of pork knuckle w/o bones, a portion of potato salad, and a portion of cabbage salad. You also have to order your condiments, so we order a single portion of horseradish and a single portion of mustard. Of course, we also order a single beer. The total price should have been about 30 lei.
The menu was confusing, and the waitress is a bit flustered to be dealing with Ehglish. What we are served turns out to be 200 g of pork knuckle w/o bones and a portion of potato salad, horseradish and mustard for each of us. Only one beer, and one cabbage salad are served. We don't think in grams, so we gobbled it all up. The horseradish was strong, and the mustard just right. All in all a winner. The food was very tasty, and we were very happy, until a bill came for 58.60 lei. We called the manager who reduced it to 53 lei after we explained the mixup. All during our meal, on the outside terrace, we watched happy relaxed people stream by. Lots of ice cream eaters. Lots of kids with balloons. A very mellow scene.
We walked back to the Seven Hotel, where the reception was kind enough to open up the office and let us use the computer for 1:20. Around 10:15 pm, it was time to go to bed. We watch Mezzo TV for a while, and then lights out.
14 Jun 2014 Falticeni
14 Jun 2014 Falticeni
Today is Saturday. If we are to see the interior of either the Suceava synagogue or the Falticeni synagogue, we will need to find a Shabbat service. So we are off about 8 am on the 2 bus. Suceava's bus service is very simple: there are three routes with good service (every 8-12 minutes) (2, 4, 5) and five routes with only rush hour service. The 2,4,5 each serve the southern end of Suceava slightly differently. The 5 goes north to the Suceava Nord train station. The 2 goes north to the Suceava train station (Burdujeni) and the 4 serves Burdujeni and some of its neighborhoods. Really simple. Why can't Lonely Planet publish this info plainly?
(Note from Carol: now you know far more about the local transit than you ever wanted to know.)
We reach the Suceava synagogue at 8:35 am and check the doors. Locked. Nothing happening. So we walk a block and find an enticing restaurant. Carol orders a special omelet with meat, cheese, and herbs. Mike gets the standard three fried eggs with four small sausages. We receive toast (no butter or jam) and a sliced tomato on each plate. Two coffees. Total less than 30 lei ($9.30).
After breakfast we check on the synagogue again. Still closed. Mike notices graffiti on a nearby wall: "Juden Todt." We take time to visit a church at the edge of the town center. Biserica Sf. Gheorghe Miranti is closed.
Back to the synagogue. Still closed. If there are Shabbat services, they are elsewhere. Time to go to Falticeni. On our walk we pass Origyn, a storefront with a little round egg-like figure that starts with something small and wiggly at the bottom. Four circles later it is a baby face. Origyn Fertility Clinic is very open in its advertising (a bit unusual for us - maybe the norm here in Romania).
We are off quickly to the bus and catch the 10:15 to Falticeni. We were the only two passengers getting on at the station. By the time we left the south end of town, the bus was quite full. Falticeni is only about 25 km away, so we arrive about 10:50 am. We survey our bags on arrival. We discover that all of our fruit is calling out to be eaten. So we polish off about 10 small, very ripe apricots.
We walk a block or so to where we think we will find the Falticeni synagogue. It was indeed there, and looked exactly like the pictures we have seen online. Closed. A helpful local woman confirms that no services are held at the synagogue. She urges us to visit a local art museum (We first think that she is saying "Museo de Apa" (water museum) rather than "Museo de Arte"). The town center lies just north of the synagogue. We guess that the population of Falticeni is 20 - 25K.
Walking through town, we pass the agricultural market. The vendors here sell greens with roots and dirt attached. Whether this is the way (1) to improve freshness, or (2) provide an opportunity to replant the greens, we do not know. We pass a vendor selling baby chickes. Finally, we reach the Hala Centrale, the main vendor building. There are amazing, just-foraged mushrooms for sale.
Market notes: seems that in Romania inevitably there are parsnips next to the carrots. You can buy scallions with small onions attached, both white and purple. No one sells celery or squash (other than pumpkin) or sweet potatoes. Maybe these aren't grown in Romania. We purchase our usual carrots and some radishes.
Thus fortified, it is time for a museum or two.
The Ion Irimescu Art Museum (the one recommended by both the local woman and by Ciprian is located a couple of blocks away. The senior rate is 4 lei apiece. For that, we receive a grand tour. The museum director corrals another visitor who speaks some English. They have something to say about every single piece. Carol comments how beautiful, how nice, about 200 times. Meanwhile, Mike surreptitiously takes numerous forbidden photos. Irimescu turns out to be a versatile 20th century artist (most sculpture but some paintings). A bit of Brancusi, a bit of Picasso, but totally original. The nudes featured in the works show that Irimescu really liked women's hindquarters and nipples.
We finish our museum tour about 12:45 pm and set off across this very small town to the Jewish cemetery. First, we stopped off in a shady park where we gobbled up yesterday's cherries, which were crying out to be eaten. The disadvantage of buying fruit in bulk at farmer's markets is that it turns overripe quickly and needs to be dispatched. By now, we must be at the threshhold of becoming a significant sector of Romania's agricultural economy.
We walk past a number of interesting houses - some have wells in the front yard. At the corner of one street is a complicated mini-shrine that is an homage to Jesus. We cross the main drag. Now our road is dirt. After a while, (3/4 km) the street seems more rural, we pass an evangelical church, and then a wall on the right which turns out to be the wall of the Jewish cemetery.
The only way in seems to be through the house of a caretaker. So we knock. No answer. We let ourselves through the gate and into the house. A little old bubbie (a head shorter than Carol) comes out to meet us. In pidgin Yiddish and Romanian, we try to explain that Carol's maternal grandfather was a Rabinovici who came from Falticeni. The bunicii (the Romanian word for bubbie) may have understood some of what we said because she brought out a book which contained notes, phone numbers, and parts of a burial index for the cemetery. She showed us the index, but we found no names we could identify with any possible ancestors.
Eventually, bubbie led us into the grounds proper. We walked around for about a half hour. This was easily the best maintained Jewish cemetery we have seen so far in Romania - no trees or large bushes between graves. Additionally, the rows are numbered. Most of the stones are still standing. There is a small fenced area with WWI and Holocaust Memorials. We walk out of the grave site into the building and engage in loud conversation at cross purposes. Neither side really understands the other is saying, so we repeat ourselves at greater and greater volume. In the end, we hug the lady and take a photo. She writes down her address - she would like us to write to her and send a copy of the photo.
We walk back into town, unsure of what to do next. We realize that we might be close to catching the bus back to Suceava, so we hurry that way. Indeed, the bus is pulling out just as we arrive, and we barely get on. It is 3 pm.
Back in Suceava, we stop to eat a sandwich out of our food bag. hing up, we see a mysterious figure walking into town who looks like - a rabbi! We hustle after him, but lose track around a church. We walk back to the synagogue and check there. Nothing doing!
[We are going to add another bus memory that we forgot to post earlier. In Roman, as in many of these towns, there is a bus that goes all the way to Italy and Spain. While we waiting for our bus, we saw a woman waiting to board the international bus. She was wearing a t-shirt that read "I love girls," and sported a feminist symbol. Pretty gutsy for Romania.]
It is now 4 pm. We go through the market, and get a few things for the long train trip tomorrow. Good bye, Suceava. On to Burdujeni and Hotel Residenz.
We go back to the hotel, pack, retrieve the wash that the hotel had done for us (20 lei). We finish drying what was not totally dry.
We are now on the third floor because the hotel is hosting a big wedding party tonight. They moved us from the first floor (right above the restaurant) to the third floor, where is relatively quiet. All in all, we have been treated very nicely by this hotel. We work on the laptop in our room, posting and watching TV. Eventually, around 9 pm, we head out down the street to another hotel restaurant where we order two delicious ciorbas (soups).
Tonight marks the end of our Romanian Roots search. Tomorrow we head off to Transylvania and the rest of Romania.
Today is Saturday. If we are to see the interior of either the Suceava synagogue or the Falticeni synagogue, we will need to find a Shabbat service. So we are off about 8 am on the 2 bus. Suceava's bus service is very simple: there are three routes with good service (every 8-12 minutes) (2, 4, 5) and five routes with only rush hour service. The 2,4,5 each serve the southern end of Suceava slightly differently. The 5 goes north to the Suceava Nord train station. The 2 goes north to the Suceava train station (Burdujeni) and the 4 serves Burdujeni and some of its neighborhoods. Really simple. Why can't Lonely Planet publish this info plainly?
(Note from Carol: now you know far more about the local transit than you ever wanted to know.)
We reach the Suceava synagogue at 8:35 am and check the doors. Locked. Nothing happening. So we walk a block and find an enticing restaurant. Carol orders a special omelet with meat, cheese, and herbs. Mike gets the standard three fried eggs with four small sausages. We receive toast (no butter or jam) and a sliced tomato on each plate. Two coffees. Total less than 30 lei ($9.30).
After breakfast we check on the synagogue again. Still closed. Mike notices graffiti on a nearby wall: "Juden Todt." We take time to visit a church at the edge of the town center. Biserica Sf. Gheorghe Miranti is closed.
Back to the synagogue. Still closed. If there are Shabbat services, they are elsewhere. Time to go to Falticeni. On our walk we pass Origyn, a storefront with a little round egg-like figure that starts with something small and wiggly at the bottom. Four circles later it is a baby face. Origyn Fertility Clinic is very open in its advertising (a bit unusual for us - maybe the norm here in Romania).
We are off quickly to the bus and catch the 10:15 to Falticeni. We were the only two passengers getting on at the station. By the time we left the south end of town, the bus was quite full. Falticeni is only about 25 km away, so we arrive about 10:50 am. We survey our bags on arrival. We discover that all of our fruit is calling out to be eaten. So we polish off about 10 small, very ripe apricots.
We walk a block or so to where we think we will find the Falticeni synagogue. It was indeed there, and looked exactly like the pictures we have seen online. Closed. A helpful local woman confirms that no services are held at the synagogue. She urges us to visit a local art museum (We first think that she is saying "Museo de Apa" (water museum) rather than "Museo de Arte"). The town center lies just north of the synagogue. We guess that the population of Falticeni is 20 - 25K.
Walking through town, we pass the agricultural market. The vendors here sell greens with roots and dirt attached. Whether this is the way (1) to improve freshness, or (2) provide an opportunity to replant the greens, we do not know. We pass a vendor selling baby chickes. Finally, we reach the Hala Centrale, the main vendor building. There are amazing, just-foraged mushrooms for sale.
Market notes: seems that in Romania inevitably there are parsnips next to the carrots. You can buy scallions with small onions attached, both white and purple. No one sells celery or squash (other than pumpkin) or sweet potatoes. Maybe these aren't grown in Romania. We purchase our usual carrots and some radishes.
Thus fortified, it is time for a museum or two.
The Ion Irimescu Art Museum (the one recommended by both the local woman and by Ciprian is located a couple of blocks away. The senior rate is 4 lei apiece. For that, we receive a grand tour. The museum director corrals another visitor who speaks some English. They have something to say about every single piece. Carol comments how beautiful, how nice, about 200 times. Meanwhile, Mike surreptitiously takes numerous forbidden photos. Irimescu turns out to be a versatile 20th century artist (most sculpture but some paintings). A bit of Brancusi, a bit of Picasso, but totally original. The nudes featured in the works show that Irimescu really liked women's hindquarters and nipples.
We finish our museum tour about 12:45 pm and set off across this very small town to the Jewish cemetery. First, we stopped off in a shady park where we gobbled up yesterday's cherries, which were crying out to be eaten. The disadvantage of buying fruit in bulk at farmer's markets is that it turns overripe quickly and needs to be dispatched. By now, we must be at the threshhold of becoming a significant sector of Romania's agricultural economy.
We walk past a number of interesting houses - some have wells in the front yard. At the corner of one street is a complicated mini-shrine that is an homage to Jesus. We cross the main drag. Now our road is dirt. After a while, (3/4 km) the street seems more rural, we pass an evangelical church, and then a wall on the right which turns out to be the wall of the Jewish cemetery.
The only way in seems to be through the house of a caretaker. So we knock. No answer. We let ourselves through the gate and into the house. A little old bubbie (a head shorter than Carol) comes out to meet us. In pidgin Yiddish and Romanian, we try to explain that Carol's maternal grandfather was a Rabinovici who came from Falticeni. The bunicii (the Romanian word for bubbie) may have understood some of what we said because she brought out a book which contained notes, phone numbers, and parts of a burial index for the cemetery. She showed us the index, but we found no names we could identify with any possible ancestors.
Eventually, bubbie led us into the grounds proper. We walked around for about a half hour. This was easily the best maintained Jewish cemetery we have seen so far in Romania - no trees or large bushes between graves. Additionally, the rows are numbered. Most of the stones are still standing. There is a small fenced area with WWI and Holocaust Memorials. We walk out of the grave site into the building and engage in loud conversation at cross purposes. Neither side really understands the other is saying, so we repeat ourselves at greater and greater volume. In the end, we hug the lady and take a photo. She writes down her address - she would like us to write to her and send a copy of the photo.
We walk back into town, unsure of what to do next. We realize that we might be close to catching the bus back to Suceava, so we hurry that way. Indeed, the bus is pulling out just as we arrive, and we barely get on. It is 3 pm.
Back in Suceava, we stop to eat a sandwich out of our food bag. hing up, we see a mysterious figure walking into town who looks like - a rabbi! We hustle after him, but lose track around a church. We walk back to the synagogue and check there. Nothing doing!
[We are going to add another bus memory that we forgot to post earlier. In Roman, as in many of these towns, there is a bus that goes all the way to Italy and Spain. While we waiting for our bus, we saw a woman waiting to board the international bus. She was wearing a t-shirt that read "I love girls," and sported a feminist symbol. Pretty gutsy for Romania.]
It is now 4 pm. We go through the market, and get a few things for the long train trip tomorrow. Good bye, Suceava. On to Burdujeni and Hotel Residenz.
We go back to the hotel, pack, retrieve the wash that the hotel had done for us (20 lei). We finish drying what was not totally dry.
We are now on the third floor because the hotel is hosting a big wedding party tonight. They moved us from the first floor (right above the restaurant) to the third floor, where is relatively quiet. All in all, we have been treated very nicely by this hotel. We work on the laptop in our room, posting and watching TV. Eventually, around 9 pm, we head out down the street to another hotel restaurant where we order two delicious ciorbas (soups).
Tonight marks the end of our Romanian Roots search. Tomorrow we head off to Transylvania and the rest of Romania.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
13 Jun 2014 Suceava
13 Jun Suceava
Because our driver is coming at 8 am, we have decided to splurge on the hotel breakfast cafe. Lots of meats, 4 kinds of cheeses, Cappy brand orange juice, all sorts of cereals (but no apparent milk to go with the cereal), and eclair like sweets to go with our coffee.
Our drive, Bogdan Constantin, arrives before 8. He speaks English, French, German, and Italian, in addition to Romanian. He mentions that has driven guests on the monastery circuit maybe 90 times a year. We are scheduled for a standard 4 monastery tour (Humor, Voronet, Moldovita, and Sucevita). Their representative colors and famous frescos are:
Humor: red and brown
The Annunciation, The Life of St. Nicholas
Voronet: blue
Last Judgment
Moldovita: yellow
The Siege of Constantinople, The Life of Jesus
Sucevita: green
The Geneology of Jesus, Ladder of Virtues, The Story of the Life of Moses
. . .
and for good measure, we will see a synagogue at the end of this circuit.
We entered the sanctuary at Humor as a priest and two nuns are finishing up an Orthodox ceremony that is performed 40 days after a burial. We think it is called Kolleva in the Greek Church and Parastas in the Romanian Orthodox Church. A decorated cake of boiled wheat and other grains is prepared. At the end of the service a little red wine is poured over the wheat. The ingredients remind us of the good old Jewish biblical sacrifices. After the ceremony one of the nuns distributed small cups of the parastas to people visiting the church. It looked and tasted very much like the Turkish Noah's pudding served on Ashura. Guess that what goes around comes around, ritually speaking. The tower at the Humor complex was being repaired by workmen and was therefore closed.
As we drove away from the Humor Monastery, we passed a number of stork nests. Bogdan pointed out one nest with three baby storks. According to him, this is a traditional sign of good luck and prosperity.
At the Voronet Monastery we saw a map of all of the Orthodox Monasteries in Romania from 1177 to 2008. We also took a picture of a map of Romania in 1938. It included the present day country of Moldova, which the Soviet Union forcibly annexed in 1940, and also parts of southern Ukraine. At this time, Bucovina, which includes Suceava and the Chernowitz region of Ukraine, was called Bucovina, and it was all Romanian. At one point the northern border of Romania actually abutted Poland. To the west there was Czechoslovakia; to the northeast the Soviet Union, and as we are discovering right now, national borders can still become rather amorphous.
At Moldovita we met a group from Chicago that was touring Romania.
At Sucevita we picnicked next to the church, and ate a quick lunch of bread, cheese and sausage. To summarize, more biblical stories than you can count were depicted on the exteriors and interiors of these monasteries. Depending on the year they were created, there were different conceptualizations of Jerusalem - some looking very much like Romanian towns. Lots of depictions of suffering martyrs (a favorite was a detached head surrounded by a halo, usually lying at the feet of a "Turk brandishing a sword"). Damnation was suggested with images of dark imps with pitchforks awaiting those who fall from the path to Heaven.
After the monasteries, we headed to Radauti, where we promised a visit to the cemetery at the town center. Before we reached Radauti, we stopped in Marginea, famous for its black pottery. Some of the pots reminded us of the face pottery in Georgia. It is a very famous place, and the pottery is very nice, but there is no way to carry pottery in a backpack without creating shards. We arrived in Radauti at 2:05 pm. Posted on the door of the synagogue: 11 - 2 M W F. So there we were on this Friday afternoon. The place was locked up tight. We waited for 10 minutes while attempting to find someone with a key, but no such luck. It must be said that the synagogue was a large solid building in a prime location in the town.
We asked Bogdan to drop us off in the center of Suceava. He pointed out where the buses to Burdujeni leave. We tried unsuccessfully to find an internet cafe, before being dropped off. In the end he dropped us off in the town center, to our great gratitude.
It was a little after 3 pm. At the nearby patisserie we ordered two teas and two pastries: an eclair and a tiramisu. In the restroom of this pastry shop, "rules for behavior" were posted. The basic message: Keep it clean, no hanky-panky.
Then we started exploring Suceava. We passed the Biserica (church) Sf. (saint) Nicolae Suceava, and headed on to the Ethnographic Museum of Suceava at 4 pm. The museum is housed in an 18th century inn. The exhibits consisted of a room for each town in the Suceava region. Different modes of dress and different folk arts in each one. Lots of carved wooden spoons in each one.
Out on the street we passed a small store, with an ethnographic map of the Bucovina region, showing the demographic composition in 1910. Each town had a pie chart showing the population of Romanians, Hungarians, Jews, Poles, Germans, etc. Quite a lot of interesting data. Most of the larger towns were 40% Jewish in 1910. We could have purchased a color copy of the map for only 12 lei, but it was just too big to carry.
Up the street there was a huge crowd of parents and kids in various costumes. Apparently, a dance academy was having its big recital downtown, and we were about to be in the middle of it. We have put in enough time at dance recitals, so we quickly left the scene after snapping a few photos of kids in ethnic dress.
A block away was the Suceava synagogue - the G.Ch. Synagogue, where G. Ch. is an abbreviation for Gemilut Chasidim. Closed. (Lonely Planet and Wikipedia call it the Gah Synagogue, but that is wrong.)
So twice today, we have found substantial synagogues in the middle of town. Carol sees this as proof that the Jewish communities were not hidden, but Mike wonders if they once commanded a greater presence that has been lost, e.g., adjacent school, rabbi's house, mikveh, etc.
The Autogara (bus station) was a couple of blocks away. We found the bus company that goes to Falticeni and learned that the buses ran every hour. We now know what we need for our trip to Falticeni (home of Carol's maternal grandfather) tomorrow.
We walked back through the Biserica Sf. Dimitriu, which turned out to be a church in the more formal French style.
We rode the 4 bus to Brandusa Restaurant and ordered two of the menus for the day. Today the soup was different, but the main dish was the same. The food itself was not as good as yesterday, maybe because the staff was busy preparing for a huge party (wedding?). This was going to be a great party, because each table of 6 had set on it a bottle of Smirnoff vodka and three bottles of Feteasca Alba wine.
After dinner we walked back to the hotel. We worked on the laptop and finally got a day written and posted. We also researched our lodging in Cluj. Booking.com, we discovered, is the way to reserve.
And so to bed.
Because our driver is coming at 8 am, we have decided to splurge on the hotel breakfast cafe. Lots of meats, 4 kinds of cheeses, Cappy brand orange juice, all sorts of cereals (but no apparent milk to go with the cereal), and eclair like sweets to go with our coffee.
Our drive, Bogdan Constantin, arrives before 8. He speaks English, French, German, and Italian, in addition to Romanian. He mentions that has driven guests on the monastery circuit maybe 90 times a year. We are scheduled for a standard 4 monastery tour (Humor, Voronet, Moldovita, and Sucevita). Their representative colors and famous frescos are:
Humor: red and brown
The Annunciation, The Life of St. Nicholas
Voronet: blue
Last Judgment
Moldovita: yellow
The Siege of Constantinople, The Life of Jesus
Sucevita: green
The Geneology of Jesus, Ladder of Virtues, The Story of the Life of Moses
. . .
and for good measure, we will see a synagogue at the end of this circuit.
We entered the sanctuary at Humor as a priest and two nuns are finishing up an Orthodox ceremony that is performed 40 days after a burial. We think it is called Kolleva in the Greek Church and Parastas in the Romanian Orthodox Church. A decorated cake of boiled wheat and other grains is prepared. At the end of the service a little red wine is poured over the wheat. The ingredients remind us of the good old Jewish biblical sacrifices. After the ceremony one of the nuns distributed small cups of the parastas to people visiting the church. It looked and tasted very much like the Turkish Noah's pudding served on Ashura. Guess that what goes around comes around, ritually speaking. The tower at the Humor complex was being repaired by workmen and was therefore closed.
As we drove away from the Humor Monastery, we passed a number of stork nests. Bogdan pointed out one nest with three baby storks. According to him, this is a traditional sign of good luck and prosperity.
At the Voronet Monastery we saw a map of all of the Orthodox Monasteries in Romania from 1177 to 2008. We also took a picture of a map of Romania in 1938. It included the present day country of Moldova, which the Soviet Union forcibly annexed in 1940, and also parts of southern Ukraine. At this time, Bucovina, which includes Suceava and the Chernowitz region of Ukraine, was called Bucovina, and it was all Romanian. At one point the northern border of Romania actually abutted Poland. To the west there was Czechoslovakia; to the northeast the Soviet Union, and as we are discovering right now, national borders can still become rather amorphous.
At Moldovita we met a group from Chicago that was touring Romania.
At Sucevita we picnicked next to the church, and ate a quick lunch of bread, cheese and sausage. To summarize, more biblical stories than you can count were depicted on the exteriors and interiors of these monasteries. Depending on the year they were created, there were different conceptualizations of Jerusalem - some looking very much like Romanian towns. Lots of depictions of suffering martyrs (a favorite was a detached head surrounded by a halo, usually lying at the feet of a "Turk brandishing a sword"). Damnation was suggested with images of dark imps with pitchforks awaiting those who fall from the path to Heaven.
After the monasteries, we headed to Radauti, where we promised a visit to the cemetery at the town center. Before we reached Radauti, we stopped in Marginea, famous for its black pottery. Some of the pots reminded us of the face pottery in Georgia. It is a very famous place, and the pottery is very nice, but there is no way to carry pottery in a backpack without creating shards. We arrived in Radauti at 2:05 pm. Posted on the door of the synagogue: 11 - 2 M W F. So there we were on this Friday afternoon. The place was locked up tight. We waited for 10 minutes while attempting to find someone with a key, but no such luck. It must be said that the synagogue was a large solid building in a prime location in the town.
We asked Bogdan to drop us off in the center of Suceava. He pointed out where the buses to Burdujeni leave. We tried unsuccessfully to find an internet cafe, before being dropped off. In the end he dropped us off in the town center, to our great gratitude.
It was a little after 3 pm. At the nearby patisserie we ordered two teas and two pastries: an eclair and a tiramisu. In the restroom of this pastry shop, "rules for behavior" were posted. The basic message: Keep it clean, no hanky-panky.
Then we started exploring Suceava. We passed the Biserica (church) Sf. (saint) Nicolae Suceava, and headed on to the Ethnographic Museum of Suceava at 4 pm. The museum is housed in an 18th century inn. The exhibits consisted of a room for each town in the Suceava region. Different modes of dress and different folk arts in each one. Lots of carved wooden spoons in each one.
Out on the street we passed a small store, with an ethnographic map of the Bucovina region, showing the demographic composition in 1910. Each town had a pie chart showing the population of Romanians, Hungarians, Jews, Poles, Germans, etc. Quite a lot of interesting data. Most of the larger towns were 40% Jewish in 1910. We could have purchased a color copy of the map for only 12 lei, but it was just too big to carry.
Up the street there was a huge crowd of parents and kids in various costumes. Apparently, a dance academy was having its big recital downtown, and we were about to be in the middle of it. We have put in enough time at dance recitals, so we quickly left the scene after snapping a few photos of kids in ethnic dress.
A block away was the Suceava synagogue - the G.Ch. Synagogue, where G. Ch. is an abbreviation for Gemilut Chasidim. Closed. (Lonely Planet and Wikipedia call it the Gah Synagogue, but that is wrong.)
So twice today, we have found substantial synagogues in the middle of town. Carol sees this as proof that the Jewish communities were not hidden, but Mike wonders if they once commanded a greater presence that has been lost, e.g., adjacent school, rabbi's house, mikveh, etc.
The Autogara (bus station) was a couple of blocks away. We found the bus company that goes to Falticeni and learned that the buses ran every hour. We now know what we need for our trip to Falticeni (home of Carol's maternal grandfather) tomorrow.
We walked back through the Biserica Sf. Dimitriu, which turned out to be a church in the more formal French style.
We rode the 4 bus to Brandusa Restaurant and ordered two of the menus for the day. Today the soup was different, but the main dish was the same. The food itself was not as good as yesterday, maybe because the staff was busy preparing for a huge party (wedding?). This was going to be a great party, because each table of 6 had set on it a bottle of Smirnoff vodka and three bottles of Feteasca Alba wine.
After dinner we walked back to the hotel. We worked on the laptop and finally got a day written and posted. We also researched our lodging in Cluj. Booking.com, we discovered, is the way to reserve.
And so to bed.
Tuesday, June 17, 2014
12 Jun 2014 Iasi to Suceava
12 Jun 2014 Iasi to Suceava
We were up and mostly packed at 7 am. Went to the same little bakery/restaurant as yesterday. This time we ordered another cheese pastry for Carol and a similar piece of cheesecake for Mike, along with two coffees (19.50 lei). By now we have given up on asking for lattes.
Back to the Hala. We buy 350 g of a salty version of cascaval de oi (sheep milk) cheese. We also buy apricots, cherries, raspberries, radishes, carrots. Maybe a little too much fruit. The raspberries were 30 lei per kg, so we purchased 5 lei ($1.60) worth, packed in a plastic tray. We ate them on the spot, and gave the tray back to the vendor. We would spend at least $3 for a similar amount of raspberries in the States, probably grown far away. The bananas sold here are from Cote d'Ivoire.
We go to the Jewish community center. Open! Men are davening in a closed room, but we have to juggle our hotel checkout time against the rest of our morning agenda. The matron at the center's eatery wants to serve us food. No time for that either. Should have flipped our schedule. Oh well.
So we head back to our hotel room, pack, and checkout by 9:30 am. Then we store our bags at the front desk.
Time to go to the Great Synagogue for World Monument Day. We pass "Sfantul Sava del Sfintit," a church built in 1583. It is one of the best painted churches, with paintings depicting the creation of the world and icon after icon. This church was restored in 2013 and was in perfect condition. It is a good introduction for our planned churches trip when we reach Suceava.
We pass the community center, which is now closed, and head over to the Great Synagogue. Outside, high school age students are busy sketching and painting their visions of the structure. Some are literal, some add black-hatted congregants - very talented artists.
We walk in to the barely restored building, and grab good seats in the third row. Smart move, because the first two rows eventually crush load with dignitaries and honored guests.
The synagogue dates from the 1600s and was built of stone. It must have been a solid building from the start. The current reconstruction of its roof and cupola make that evident. About the only details remaining of the old synagogue are the ark and the metalwork around it and in the front. The floor now is clay (?) on concrete. It looks to be either 5 feet too high over a filled basement, or 3 feet too low. As presently constituted, you would have to be apx 11 feet tall to take a Torah out of the ark (if there were any Torahs in the ark).
A local group is playing klezmer music. 2 male singers and 4 instrumentalists. They played their hearts out with no breaks: folk songs, liturgical music, Israeli favorites, even Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen.
The first speaker is a young woman from the World Monuments Foundation in New York. Then local dignitaries, from Iasi government, from the Jewish community, the Romanian Orthodox Christian community, and others. There were Jewish visitors from the US and Israel. Architects, academics, etc., were all there. Rabbi Shaffer [remember him from Bucuresti] absolutely knows how to say the right thing at the right time. Shaffer spontaneously grabbed the two singers for a freilich hora, as the cameras were rolling and the local media was recording. He liberally quoted Hebrew in his comments, salting them with jokes, as evident by the appreciative laughter.
The ceremony finally finished around 1 pm. The dignitaries headed back to their fancy hotel for lunch. They then had a scheduled afternoon of more education sessions and an invitational party at 7 pm.
Here is the history of events, as we understand them: In 2000 the roof of the Great Synagogue was leaking, plaster was rotting, and the interior was falling apart. A fourteen year campaign led to the listing of the synagogue as a World Monument. The money then was found for a new roof, and removal of most of the plaster, exposing the underlying stone. Today's celebration is a starting point for (1) fundraising, and (2) architechtural/historical groundwork to decide what to do next.
Iasi is campaigning to become the Cultural Capital of Europe (whatever that means) in 2021. The Jewish community of Romania is filming everything that everybody is saying today. After all, fulfilling promises requires a long lead time.
After schmoozing with the guests and finding, believe it or not, an Atlanta connection, we left about 1:35 pm. To our hotel - actually past the hotel to purchase a nice small loaf of bread for 2 lei, and two other Schweppes beverages, bitter lemon and mandarin orange. Verdict: bitter lemon is terrific; orange is nothing special.
A final trip back to the hotel, retrieve our bags, call a taxi, and take the 6 lei ride to the Gara. Much more sensible than braving the tram, which would cost 4 lei. We arrive about 2:30 pm, well in time for our 3:15 train to Suceava. The train originates in Iasi, so we can board early. Well before it departs, we have demolished the mandarin drink, a couple of cheese sandwiches we have cobbled together, and some carrots and radishes.
Our journey takes us through pretty countryside. We get into Suceava at 5:15 pm, and walk the 150 meters to the Hotel Residenz. The posted price is 49 euro, which includes a nice buffet breakfast. Our booking.com price is 31.2 euro (137 lei) which will not include that 5 euro breakfast.
The staff here is most accommodating. There is no internet cafe in town, so they loan us a laptop (WiFi enabled) for free during our three day stay! While we are waiting, we request ice, and drink down our bitter lemon soda.
We inquire about a monastery tour. 15 minutes later, Ciprian from Hello Bucovina arrives. He suggests a 4 monastery, 7 hour tour, with the Radauti synagogue thrown in for us special, all for $110. We will have a taxi ride with an English speaking driver, but no tour guide. Per our choice, we will leave at 8 am, and probably finish about 3 pm.
He claims to be able to provide Jewish records that even Jewish Gen does not have. Note that we have written that the train station was in Suceava. Actually, it is across the river in a suburb called Burdujeni. Carol's maternal grandfather's father was from Burdujeni. It is rather more complicated than that, because historically (e.g., 1910) the river was the boundary between Bucovina and Moldavia, and Suceava and Burdujeni were completely separate.
Ciprian offers to drive us right now into Burdujeni, and show us where the original Jewish community was. He points to a housing style: "railroad cars," a row of 8 - 10 one-story dwellings attached to each other. They remind Carol of the semi-detached homes in Queens and the shotgun houses of Atlanta. Before he left us off, Ciprian recommended the Brandusa restaurant for our evening meal. At the restaurant, we ordered 2 menus of the day, and shared a 50 cl Ciucas light beer. The dinner consisted of soup and a main dish. The yummy soup contained a chicken leg and vegetables. The meat plate was pork belly with sauteed potatoes in a very liquid sauce. Our meal was excellent, and the price was right (27 lei total for the both of us, or $8.40).
We found a small grocery on our walk back to the hotel and purchased 250 g of salami for the next day. The Residenz offered us quite a television feast: BBC News, CCTV (Chinese), CNN World, and national stations, both Romanian and Magyar. And best of all, Mezzo, the French all music channel. Somehow in all of this we were too busy flipping channels, and missed the opening ceremony of the World Cup. End of the day.
We were up and mostly packed at 7 am. Went to the same little bakery/restaurant as yesterday. This time we ordered another cheese pastry for Carol and a similar piece of cheesecake for Mike, along with two coffees (19.50 lei). By now we have given up on asking for lattes.
Back to the Hala. We buy 350 g of a salty version of cascaval de oi (sheep milk) cheese. We also buy apricots, cherries, raspberries, radishes, carrots. Maybe a little too much fruit. The raspberries were 30 lei per kg, so we purchased 5 lei ($1.60) worth, packed in a plastic tray. We ate them on the spot, and gave the tray back to the vendor. We would spend at least $3 for a similar amount of raspberries in the States, probably grown far away. The bananas sold here are from Cote d'Ivoire.
We go to the Jewish community center. Open! Men are davening in a closed room, but we have to juggle our hotel checkout time against the rest of our morning agenda. The matron at the center's eatery wants to serve us food. No time for that either. Should have flipped our schedule. Oh well.
So we head back to our hotel room, pack, and checkout by 9:30 am. Then we store our bags at the front desk.
Time to go to the Great Synagogue for World Monument Day. We pass "Sfantul Sava del Sfintit," a church built in 1583. It is one of the best painted churches, with paintings depicting the creation of the world and icon after icon. This church was restored in 2013 and was in perfect condition. It is a good introduction for our planned churches trip when we reach Suceava.
We pass the community center, which is now closed, and head over to the Great Synagogue. Outside, high school age students are busy sketching and painting their visions of the structure. Some are literal, some add black-hatted congregants - very talented artists.
We walk in to the barely restored building, and grab good seats in the third row. Smart move, because the first two rows eventually crush load with dignitaries and honored guests.
The synagogue dates from the 1600s and was built of stone. It must have been a solid building from the start. The current reconstruction of its roof and cupola make that evident. About the only details remaining of the old synagogue are the ark and the metalwork around it and in the front. The floor now is clay (?) on concrete. It looks to be either 5 feet too high over a filled basement, or 3 feet too low. As presently constituted, you would have to be apx 11 feet tall to take a Torah out of the ark (if there were any Torahs in the ark).
A local group is playing klezmer music. 2 male singers and 4 instrumentalists. They played their hearts out with no breaks: folk songs, liturgical music, Israeli favorites, even Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen.
The first speaker is a young woman from the World Monuments Foundation in New York. Then local dignitaries, from Iasi government, from the Jewish community, the Romanian Orthodox Christian community, and others. There were Jewish visitors from the US and Israel. Architects, academics, etc., were all there. Rabbi Shaffer [remember him from Bucuresti] absolutely knows how to say the right thing at the right time. Shaffer spontaneously grabbed the two singers for a freilich hora, as the cameras were rolling and the local media was recording. He liberally quoted Hebrew in his comments, salting them with jokes, as evident by the appreciative laughter.
The ceremony finally finished around 1 pm. The dignitaries headed back to their fancy hotel for lunch. They then had a scheduled afternoon of more education sessions and an invitational party at 7 pm.
Here is the history of events, as we understand them: In 2000 the roof of the Great Synagogue was leaking, plaster was rotting, and the interior was falling apart. A fourteen year campaign led to the listing of the synagogue as a World Monument. The money then was found for a new roof, and removal of most of the plaster, exposing the underlying stone. Today's celebration is a starting point for (1) fundraising, and (2) architechtural/historical groundwork to decide what to do next.
Iasi is campaigning to become the Cultural Capital of Europe (whatever that means) in 2021. The Jewish community of Romania is filming everything that everybody is saying today. After all, fulfilling promises requires a long lead time.
After schmoozing with the guests and finding, believe it or not, an Atlanta connection, we left about 1:35 pm. To our hotel - actually past the hotel to purchase a nice small loaf of bread for 2 lei, and two other Schweppes beverages, bitter lemon and mandarin orange. Verdict: bitter lemon is terrific; orange is nothing special.
A final trip back to the hotel, retrieve our bags, call a taxi, and take the 6 lei ride to the Gara. Much more sensible than braving the tram, which would cost 4 lei. We arrive about 2:30 pm, well in time for our 3:15 train to Suceava. The train originates in Iasi, so we can board early. Well before it departs, we have demolished the mandarin drink, a couple of cheese sandwiches we have cobbled together, and some carrots and radishes.
Our journey takes us through pretty countryside. We get into Suceava at 5:15 pm, and walk the 150 meters to the Hotel Residenz. The posted price is 49 euro, which includes a nice buffet breakfast. Our booking.com price is 31.2 euro (137 lei) which will not include that 5 euro breakfast.
The staff here is most accommodating. There is no internet cafe in town, so they loan us a laptop (WiFi enabled) for free during our three day stay! While we are waiting, we request ice, and drink down our bitter lemon soda.
We inquire about a monastery tour. 15 minutes later, Ciprian from Hello Bucovina arrives. He suggests a 4 monastery, 7 hour tour, with the Radauti synagogue thrown in for us special, all for $110. We will have a taxi ride with an English speaking driver, but no tour guide. Per our choice, we will leave at 8 am, and probably finish about 3 pm.
He claims to be able to provide Jewish records that even Jewish Gen does not have. Note that we have written that the train station was in Suceava. Actually, it is across the river in a suburb called Burdujeni. Carol's maternal grandfather's father was from Burdujeni. It is rather more complicated than that, because historically (e.g., 1910) the river was the boundary between Bucovina and Moldavia, and Suceava and Burdujeni were completely separate.
Ciprian offers to drive us right now into Burdujeni, and show us where the original Jewish community was. He points to a housing style: "railroad cars," a row of 8 - 10 one-story dwellings attached to each other. They remind Carol of the semi-detached homes in Queens and the shotgun houses of Atlanta. Before he left us off, Ciprian recommended the Brandusa restaurant for our evening meal. At the restaurant, we ordered 2 menus of the day, and shared a 50 cl Ciucas light beer. The dinner consisted of soup and a main dish. The yummy soup contained a chicken leg and vegetables. The meat plate was pork belly with sauteed potatoes in a very liquid sauce. Our meal was excellent, and the price was right (27 lei total for the both of us, or $8.40).
We found a small grocery on our walk back to the hotel and purchased 250 g of salami for the next day. The Residenz offered us quite a television feast: BBC News, CCTV (Chinese), CNN World, and national stations, both Romanian and Magyar. And best of all, Mezzo, the French all music channel. Somehow in all of this we were too busy flipping channels, and missed the opening ceremony of the World Cup. End of the day.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
11 Jun 2014 Iasi
11 Jun Iasi
Carol was up with the sun. It was cool and a good time to explore. First up the road at the side of the hotel - a mix of residential and small businesses. Then double back to the main road, but in the other direction. The tram runs down this street, along with buses. Plenty of small pastry vending windows, "gogoseries," cafes. As far off as Piata Unirii - fancy hotels, fencing limiting street crossings. Then back through the university to a beautiful church. There were plenty of women in smart business dress walking out at the same time.
Mike slept a little later. Finally, about 8 am, we went out to a place for breakfast spotted earlier by Carol. Carol chose a cheese pastry with delicious phyllo dough (5 lei). Mike got 3 eggs, fried, over easy (ochiura), the standard serving here (8 lei). Two coffees. You can ask for a latte (lapte), but all you get is coffee with an extra creamer.
We walked a block or two to the main pedestrian road, B-dul Stefan cel Mare. This road connects the Palas and Piata Unirii. Along this wide pedestrian walkway are government buildings and some very old churches. The first and grandest is the Church of the Three Hierarchs, built in 1637-1639. The exterior stone work was detailed, with each horizontal row having a different pattern. Lace made of stone - like nothing we've ever seen. The interior iconography was formal, with predominantly pictures of saints and few story paintings.
We found our first Schweppes flavored sodas. Carol tried the pineapple coconut. A white soda, flavor (meh).
We walked toward Piata Unirii and then Piata Eminescu. We had noted that there was a bus stop entitled "Cimitirul Evreiesc." We took a 46 bus there, arriving about 11 am, and started walking. Almost immediately, we saw a gate for the Jewish Cemetery. But then you walk and walk. Finally, after what seemed like a km uphill, we were at the cemetery. Entrance was 20 lei each. Strange to have a charge. There was an old woman there whose job was to collect money, but otherwise do nothing. There were over a dozen dogs lying around, also otherwise doing nothing.
We were looking for the grave of the Aron Bercovici who died in 1926 (there are many Aron Bercovici's buried there). He is Mike's paternal grandmother's father. Jewish Gen said the grave was in Division 8. Where was Division 8? we asked. "A long way that way," said the woman. Can we see a map? No. "Two kilometers!"
So we started wandering around. We found a memorial to the soldiers who died in WWI defending Romania. Also a holocaust memorial starting with a quote from Jeremiah: "I sat by the banks of the river and wept." Also a memorial to the victims of the 1941 Iasi pogrom. Nearby was a poignant gravestone with photos of 3 members of one family, killed in the pogrom.
This cemetery has 66,000 graves. The divisions closest to the front are 2 and 3 (and 1?). It took us a long time looking to see a division marker. Division 4 is probably behind to the north. To the north of it is 5, or so we suppose. Division 8 is, as the woman said, a long way, maybe one kilometer, maybe two kilometers away. This was a lot more than we had bargained for, or were up to in any fashion. Carol was exploring northward, through deteriorating conditions. Mike gave up and was back near the front gate. The old woman had gone somewhere for a minute or two. Suddenly, the dogs got agitated. One of them bit into Mike's pants, leaving four 1-foot gashes in the cloth, and destroying them. Luckily, the dog didn't get any skin. We showed the "pants" to the old woman, who shrugged, suggesting, "what do you expect from dogs?" It was now noon.
A Romanian family visiting the cemetery was nice enough to drive us back to the hotel. They were Romanian ex-pats, with her very spry, 90 year old father. We inquired about a vegetable and fruit market, and they mentioned Hala Centrale, a few blocks to the east of the hotel.
Mike changed into what now was his only pair of pants, freshly washed the day before. At 1 pm, we walked out to the Hala Centrala. It is a 3 story building, with floor 1 dominated by a Carrefour store. There is another Starnet on floor 2. It took us more than one trial to discover the open air market on floor 0.
We had decided to carry the torn pants, and we now headed off to the Great Synagogue. No one there, but we were directed to the connunity center down the street. It was closed, but we showed the pants to the guard. He shrugged too.
By now it was close to 2 pm and we hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. We decided to take a bus out to the suburbs and see if anthing struck our fancy. A 46 bus came along. After one stop, we passed the Greek restaurant we had declined to eat at the night before. We stopped and had lunch. Mike ordered a chicken sandwich and a frappe. Carol got a roasted vegetable plate with some gouda cheese and a banana milkshake. It was now about 2:45 pm. We got back on another 46 bus.
On the buses you validate your ticket by punching them. Mike took a transfer by repunching the tickets we had just used. The bus went southward toward Bucium. A bus controller got on the bus, and checked our tickets. He asked for our identity cards, and we handed over our passports. There was a problem here. Mike played the role of "dumb foreign tourist." Carol was indignant about the controller's refusal to just let us use two more tickets from the book. There were 6 - 8 other passengers gathered around, some of whom spoke pretty good English. Eventually, "dumb foreign tourist" was not specially fined. The agent explained how to use the tickets, returned our passports, and let us off with a warning.
We immediately took a 46 bus back to town. We stopped at the community center. Still closed. Time for some internet. Across the street was a small store, where we bought a liter of liquid yogurt, and 1.5 liters of mint lemonade. It shows how thirsty we were that we finished all but a little of the lemonade. After 90 minutes, as we left the internet cafe, we saw the best restroom signs we have ever seen. They depicted a man and woman in such obvious distress that their knees were shaking.
It was now close to 6 pm. Where did the day go?
A quick visit to the Hala for a little fruit, and to Carrefour for a bottle of Feteasca Negrea (15 lei), a local semisweet red wine, highly recommended. We still needed to get train tickets to Suceava for tomorrow. So we walked over to the Gara. After purchasing the tickets, we waited for a 3, 6, or 7 tram to go back to the hotel. A 6 tram came by. We got on. The tram cars are from Stuttgart.(second hand purchase). We know this because instead of a map of the trams and buses of Iasi on the walls of the cars, it has a map of the S-Bahn and U-Bahn lines of Stuttgart. Why wasn't this German language signage removed or painted over (clearly, too much to ask to have local information)?
At about 3 stops, we realize we are going in the wrong direction. We get out, in a busy commercial area, and find a very popular restaurant. They had a complete menu. Lots of different pizzas, traditional food, breakfast, beer, alcohol, etc. We ordered a Tochitura Moldoveanesca and an Ursus black beer (not a black bear). Good food, but too much cigarette smoke. We were too full for ice creams, after our meal.
We caught another 6 tram, this time in the right direction, all the way back to the hotel. The guy in the bar opened the bottle of Negrea, and we (mostly Mike) drank it up while watching a lot of Mezzo TV-a French station that plays classical music and jazz, nonstop and uncut.
NOTE: What Iasi needs is a Mayor Michael Bloomberg to clean up the pervasive "small disorder": old graffiti, lingering disrepair, clear street signage, old pasted posters not removed. It is not the people, but the place that is distressing. Carol does not like this town.
Carol was up with the sun. It was cool and a good time to explore. First up the road at the side of the hotel - a mix of residential and small businesses. Then double back to the main road, but in the other direction. The tram runs down this street, along with buses. Plenty of small pastry vending windows, "gogoseries," cafes. As far off as Piata Unirii - fancy hotels, fencing limiting street crossings. Then back through the university to a beautiful church. There were plenty of women in smart business dress walking out at the same time.
Mike slept a little later. Finally, about 8 am, we went out to a place for breakfast spotted earlier by Carol. Carol chose a cheese pastry with delicious phyllo dough (5 lei). Mike got 3 eggs, fried, over easy (ochiura), the standard serving here (8 lei). Two coffees. You can ask for a latte (lapte), but all you get is coffee with an extra creamer.
We walked a block or two to the main pedestrian road, B-dul Stefan cel Mare. This road connects the Palas and Piata Unirii. Along this wide pedestrian walkway are government buildings and some very old churches. The first and grandest is the Church of the Three Hierarchs, built in 1637-1639. The exterior stone work was detailed, with each horizontal row having a different pattern. Lace made of stone - like nothing we've ever seen. The interior iconography was formal, with predominantly pictures of saints and few story paintings.
We found our first Schweppes flavored sodas. Carol tried the pineapple coconut. A white soda, flavor (meh).
We walked toward Piata Unirii and then Piata Eminescu. We had noted that there was a bus stop entitled "Cimitirul Evreiesc." We took a 46 bus there, arriving about 11 am, and started walking. Almost immediately, we saw a gate for the Jewish Cemetery. But then you walk and walk. Finally, after what seemed like a km uphill, we were at the cemetery. Entrance was 20 lei each. Strange to have a charge. There was an old woman there whose job was to collect money, but otherwise do nothing. There were over a dozen dogs lying around, also otherwise doing nothing.
We were looking for the grave of the Aron Bercovici who died in 1926 (there are many Aron Bercovici's buried there). He is Mike's paternal grandmother's father. Jewish Gen said the grave was in Division 8. Where was Division 8? we asked. "A long way that way," said the woman. Can we see a map? No. "Two kilometers!"
So we started wandering around. We found a memorial to the soldiers who died in WWI defending Romania. Also a holocaust memorial starting with a quote from Jeremiah: "I sat by the banks of the river and wept." Also a memorial to the victims of the 1941 Iasi pogrom. Nearby was a poignant gravestone with photos of 3 members of one family, killed in the pogrom.
This cemetery has 66,000 graves. The divisions closest to the front are 2 and 3 (and 1?). It took us a long time looking to see a division marker. Division 4 is probably behind to the north. To the north of it is 5, or so we suppose. Division 8 is, as the woman said, a long way, maybe one kilometer, maybe two kilometers away. This was a lot more than we had bargained for, or were up to in any fashion. Carol was exploring northward, through deteriorating conditions. Mike gave up and was back near the front gate. The old woman had gone somewhere for a minute or two. Suddenly, the dogs got agitated. One of them bit into Mike's pants, leaving four 1-foot gashes in the cloth, and destroying them. Luckily, the dog didn't get any skin. We showed the "pants" to the old woman, who shrugged, suggesting, "what do you expect from dogs?" It was now noon.
A Romanian family visiting the cemetery was nice enough to drive us back to the hotel. They were Romanian ex-pats, with her very spry, 90 year old father. We inquired about a vegetable and fruit market, and they mentioned Hala Centrale, a few blocks to the east of the hotel.
Mike changed into what now was his only pair of pants, freshly washed the day before. At 1 pm, we walked out to the Hala Centrala. It is a 3 story building, with floor 1 dominated by a Carrefour store. There is another Starnet on floor 2. It took us more than one trial to discover the open air market on floor 0.
We had decided to carry the torn pants, and we now headed off to the Great Synagogue. No one there, but we were directed to the connunity center down the street. It was closed, but we showed the pants to the guard. He shrugged too.
By now it was close to 2 pm and we hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast. We decided to take a bus out to the suburbs and see if anthing struck our fancy. A 46 bus came along. After one stop, we passed the Greek restaurant we had declined to eat at the night before. We stopped and had lunch. Mike ordered a chicken sandwich and a frappe. Carol got a roasted vegetable plate with some gouda cheese and a banana milkshake. It was now about 2:45 pm. We got back on another 46 bus.
On the buses you validate your ticket by punching them. Mike took a transfer by repunching the tickets we had just used. The bus went southward toward Bucium. A bus controller got on the bus, and checked our tickets. He asked for our identity cards, and we handed over our passports. There was a problem here. Mike played the role of "dumb foreign tourist." Carol was indignant about the controller's refusal to just let us use two more tickets from the book. There were 6 - 8 other passengers gathered around, some of whom spoke pretty good English. Eventually, "dumb foreign tourist" was not specially fined. The agent explained how to use the tickets, returned our passports, and let us off with a warning.
We immediately took a 46 bus back to town. We stopped at the community center. Still closed. Time for some internet. Across the street was a small store, where we bought a liter of liquid yogurt, and 1.5 liters of mint lemonade. It shows how thirsty we were that we finished all but a little of the lemonade. After 90 minutes, as we left the internet cafe, we saw the best restroom signs we have ever seen. They depicted a man and woman in such obvious distress that their knees were shaking.
It was now close to 6 pm. Where did the day go?
A quick visit to the Hala for a little fruit, and to Carrefour for a bottle of Feteasca Negrea (15 lei), a local semisweet red wine, highly recommended. We still needed to get train tickets to Suceava for tomorrow. So we walked over to the Gara. After purchasing the tickets, we waited for a 3, 6, or 7 tram to go back to the hotel. A 6 tram came by. We got on. The tram cars are from Stuttgart.(second hand purchase). We know this because instead of a map of the trams and buses of Iasi on the walls of the cars, it has a map of the S-Bahn and U-Bahn lines of Stuttgart. Why wasn't this German language signage removed or painted over (clearly, too much to ask to have local information)?
At about 3 stops, we realize we are going in the wrong direction. We get out, in a busy commercial area, and find a very popular restaurant. They had a complete menu. Lots of different pizzas, traditional food, breakfast, beer, alcohol, etc. We ordered a Tochitura Moldoveanesca and an Ursus black beer (not a black bear). Good food, but too much cigarette smoke. We were too full for ice creams, after our meal.
We caught another 6 tram, this time in the right direction, all the way back to the hotel. The guy in the bar opened the bottle of Negrea, and we (mostly Mike) drank it up while watching a lot of Mezzo TV-a French station that plays classical music and jazz, nonstop and uncut.
NOTE: What Iasi needs is a Mayor Michael Bloomberg to clean up the pervasive "small disorder": old graffiti, lingering disrepair, clear street signage, old pasted posters not removed. It is not the people, but the place that is distressing. Carol does not like this town.
Saturday, June 14, 2014
10 Jun 2014 Bacau to Iasi
10 Jun 2014 Bacau to Iasi
Note: 1. So far in the sites we have visited, there are blooming rose gardens in public spaces. Parks are enjoyed by people of all ages.
2. So many churches! And people make the sign of the cross as they pass by each one whether on foot or on a bus. Carol was amused by a guy juggling a cell phone, bags, and the repeat need to cross!
Yesterday, the hotel clerk told us there was a synagogue, or maybe a cemetery, here in Bacau (we had asked earlier). It was a 30 min walk from the Gara. As we looked at the site on the map, the site appeared to be a cemetery, not a synagogue. It also appeared to be apx 1/2 km from Pensuine Ellora [the rejected hotel from two nights before]. Finally, this location was a little more than a km from the Curcanal de Aur restaurant from last night.
So we got up really early, took the bus in time to get to Curcanal restaurant by 7 am, just as it opened. We ordered cascaval de pane (9 lei) [cascaval cheese, breaded and fried], and omelet du cabanos [sausages] (6 lei). Also two coffees. Total 25 lei. Good food.
After breakfast, we walked past a market. There we saw "fragole," teeny tiny raspberry like berries. They were 4 times more expensive than cherries and they were sold in tiny cups worth. But so sweet. WOW. Within a half hour, they were deteriorating, so we stopped and finished them off. We were lucky to have found them. They are apparently quite rare in the markets.
Other than a short wrong turn, we were fairly quickly at the cemetery. We were greeted by the caretaker, who showed us around. But we couldn't find what we wanted, namely, a grave for Harry Segal, Carol's maternal great grandfather. We looked for a while, and then the caretaker referred us to the community center at Str. Gheorghe Aposti Nr. 11, where the cemetery records were. This cemetery had a very beautiful holocaust memorial, with fire sculpted on the top of the memorial making it all the more striking.
A taxi took us to the community center. We walked in. The director, a blunt, business-like man, took out the index books, and we picked out 3 possible gravesites, including one for Hersh Segal in 1928. We were there 10 minutes. He then asked for a donation for the lookup privileges. Mike offered 10 lei. NO. 20 lei. NO. 50 lei was the prefered amount. Then, he was finished with us. No opportunity to see the rest of the center. (We later learned that we had missed seeing the Cerealistilor Synagogue from 1906, Goodness knows what it would have cost in donations to see that synagogue.)
We took the bus back to the Pensiune, retrieved our bags. The clerk called a taxi to take us to the cemetery, wait, and then to the Autogara in time for the 11:55 bus to Iasi.
At the cemetery, it turned out that the gravesite for Hersh Segal was so far back into the underbrush that even if we had found it, there probably would not have been a gravestone still standing.
All the errands finished, we were at the bus station with 10-15 min to spare. The taxi fare was 24 lei ($8.25) for a little more than an hour.
The bus ride to Iasi was uneventful. We pulled in to the Autogara in the city of Iasi, sort of across the street from the Gara, at apx 2:00 pm. A quick taxi to Hotel Eden, one of our two choices, took 10 lei. The room, on the third floor, was 155 lei ($48) a night. No internet in the hotel (only WiFi), but there was supposedly a cafe nearby. Laundry was available at the hotel, and our 4 days worth was only 20 lei, so we brought down our filled laundry bag.
We vegged out for a while, and Carol did a small sink wash of things that could not be machine washed.
After 5:30 pm we went out for a walk. We were fairly close to the Great Synagogue, so we walked by. There was a small guided group from Buffalo, NY, there, but they seemed not to want extra listeners hanging on. Numerous signs said "Watch Day 2014. 12 Jun" (in two days). In front of the site was a holocaust memorial. The synagogue had workers everywhere, and scaffolding everywhere. It was hard to imagine that the site would be ready for anything in two days.
Lonely Planet showed this synagogue, and then showed another synagogue 500 m to the east off the map. So we started walking in that direction. As we asked locals where the synagogue was, they kept directing us back to what we had already seen. After a while, we concluded that the Lonely Planet map was wrong.
We stopped looking for other synagogues, and started looking for dinner. Lonely Planet suggested Casa Lavric, about 1.5 miles away, for its excellent traditional food.
So we walked that way. We walked past the Jewish Community Center, with its museum and its map of the 127 synagogues in Iasi (in 1910), without seeing it or going in. We bought a 10 bus ticket package for 19 lei. We passed a schematic map pasted on a bus stop, and photographed it, graffiti and all. It was the only assistance we had as to where the buses and trams went, and it was hard to read.
Finally, about 7:45 pm, we were at the restaurant. Somewhat yuppie. We ordered a Ciorba de Burta, a chicken and tripe soup, and a bean soup, a thin soup with some hard beans and vegetables. Also, we had potatoes with Honey and Ginger. Not bad, but not as good as the Lonely Planet hype.
After dinner, we walked a couple of blocks to an uncertain address where the internet cafe, Forte Cafe, was supposedly located. After 30 minutes of walking around unsuccessfully, two seventh grade kids offered to take us to an internet cafe. Thank heavens for good English students with smartphones!
So off we went, all the way back toward the beginning point, and then some. The place was not Forte Cafe, but Starnet Internet Cafe, more a game center than anything else, and we were the oldest customers by far.
It was 9:45 pm, but we had an internet cafe. So we spent 1.5 hours there, reserving a hotel in Suceava, and making the first blog entry. Finally, exhausted, we went back to the hotel, and to bed.
Thoughts so far: For a location in the arts center of Iasi, with the Palace of Culture, Opera Romania, and National Theater neighbors of our hotel, there is a distressing amount of graffiti and crumbling infrastructure.
Note: 1. So far in the sites we have visited, there are blooming rose gardens in public spaces. Parks are enjoyed by people of all ages.
2. So many churches! And people make the sign of the cross as they pass by each one whether on foot or on a bus. Carol was amused by a guy juggling a cell phone, bags, and the repeat need to cross!
Yesterday, the hotel clerk told us there was a synagogue, or maybe a cemetery, here in Bacau (we had asked earlier). It was a 30 min walk from the Gara. As we looked at the site on the map, the site appeared to be a cemetery, not a synagogue. It also appeared to be apx 1/2 km from Pensuine Ellora [the rejected hotel from two nights before]. Finally, this location was a little more than a km from the Curcanal de Aur restaurant from last night.
So we got up really early, took the bus in time to get to Curcanal restaurant by 7 am, just as it opened. We ordered cascaval de pane (9 lei) [cascaval cheese, breaded and fried], and omelet du cabanos [sausages] (6 lei). Also two coffees. Total 25 lei. Good food.
After breakfast, we walked past a market. There we saw "fragole," teeny tiny raspberry like berries. They were 4 times more expensive than cherries and they were sold in tiny cups worth. But so sweet. WOW. Within a half hour, they were deteriorating, so we stopped and finished them off. We were lucky to have found them. They are apparently quite rare in the markets.
Other than a short wrong turn, we were fairly quickly at the cemetery. We were greeted by the caretaker, who showed us around. But we couldn't find what we wanted, namely, a grave for Harry Segal, Carol's maternal great grandfather. We looked for a while, and then the caretaker referred us to the community center at Str. Gheorghe Aposti Nr. 11, where the cemetery records were. This cemetery had a very beautiful holocaust memorial, with fire sculpted on the top of the memorial making it all the more striking.
A taxi took us to the community center. We walked in. The director, a blunt, business-like man, took out the index books, and we picked out 3 possible gravesites, including one for Hersh Segal in 1928. We were there 10 minutes. He then asked for a donation for the lookup privileges. Mike offered 10 lei. NO. 20 lei. NO. 50 lei was the prefered amount. Then, he was finished with us. No opportunity to see the rest of the center. (We later learned that we had missed seeing the Cerealistilor Synagogue from 1906, Goodness knows what it would have cost in donations to see that synagogue.)
We took the bus back to the Pensiune, retrieved our bags. The clerk called a taxi to take us to the cemetery, wait, and then to the Autogara in time for the 11:55 bus to Iasi.
At the cemetery, it turned out that the gravesite for Hersh Segal was so far back into the underbrush that even if we had found it, there probably would not have been a gravestone still standing.
All the errands finished, we were at the bus station with 10-15 min to spare. The taxi fare was 24 lei ($8.25) for a little more than an hour.
The bus ride to Iasi was uneventful. We pulled in to the Autogara in the city of Iasi, sort of across the street from the Gara, at apx 2:00 pm. A quick taxi to Hotel Eden, one of our two choices, took 10 lei. The room, on the third floor, was 155 lei ($48) a night. No internet in the hotel (only WiFi), but there was supposedly a cafe nearby. Laundry was available at the hotel, and our 4 days worth was only 20 lei, so we brought down our filled laundry bag.
We vegged out for a while, and Carol did a small sink wash of things that could not be machine washed.
After 5:30 pm we went out for a walk. We were fairly close to the Great Synagogue, so we walked by. There was a small guided group from Buffalo, NY, there, but they seemed not to want extra listeners hanging on. Numerous signs said "Watch Day 2014. 12 Jun" (in two days). In front of the site was a holocaust memorial. The synagogue had workers everywhere, and scaffolding everywhere. It was hard to imagine that the site would be ready for anything in two days.
Lonely Planet showed this synagogue, and then showed another synagogue 500 m to the east off the map. So we started walking in that direction. As we asked locals where the synagogue was, they kept directing us back to what we had already seen. After a while, we concluded that the Lonely Planet map was wrong.
We stopped looking for other synagogues, and started looking for dinner. Lonely Planet suggested Casa Lavric, about 1.5 miles away, for its excellent traditional food.
So we walked that way. We walked past the Jewish Community Center, with its museum and its map of the 127 synagogues in Iasi (in 1910), without seeing it or going in. We bought a 10 bus ticket package for 19 lei. We passed a schematic map pasted on a bus stop, and photographed it, graffiti and all. It was the only assistance we had as to where the buses and trams went, and it was hard to read.
Finally, about 7:45 pm, we were at the restaurant. Somewhat yuppie. We ordered a Ciorba de Burta, a chicken and tripe soup, and a bean soup, a thin soup with some hard beans and vegetables. Also, we had potatoes with Honey and Ginger. Not bad, but not as good as the Lonely Planet hype.
After dinner, we walked a couple of blocks to an uncertain address where the internet cafe, Forte Cafe, was supposedly located. After 30 minutes of walking around unsuccessfully, two seventh grade kids offered to take us to an internet cafe. Thank heavens for good English students with smartphones!
So off we went, all the way back toward the beginning point, and then some. The place was not Forte Cafe, but Starnet Internet Cafe, more a game center than anything else, and we were the oldest customers by far.
It was 9:45 pm, but we had an internet cafe. So we spent 1.5 hours there, reserving a hotel in Suceava, and making the first blog entry. Finally, exhausted, we went back to the hotel, and to bed.
Thoughts so far: For a location in the arts center of Iasi, with the Palace of Culture, Opera Romania, and National Theater neighbors of our hotel, there is a distressing amount of graffiti and crumbling infrastructure.
Friday, June 13, 2014
9 Jun 2014 Bacau and Roman
Jun 2014 Bacau and Roman
Up at 9 am. We really needed that sleep. Our bodies were much better for the extra ZZZs. Down to our breakfast, with only 20 minutes to spare. We ordered a Bacau omelet, which contained all sorts of vegetables, two kinds of meat, and two kinds of cheese. A real trenchermen's meal. The other dish was the "traditional dish" - a big round ball of mamaliga, stuffed with telemea and burduf cheese, with a soft fried egg on top, with a vivid orange yolk. On the side were three pieces of "country ham." Carol had a real latte, "lapte" in Romanian. Mike had regular coffee.
Much to our surprise, we were not charged at all, even though we had ordered the best items from the menu. We checked the computer in the hotel, found two nearby pensiunes, including one that was recommended to us earlier.
We left our bags at Decebal and checked out the two pensiune. The first was nice but slightly dark and more expensive (160 lei) than the second (140 lei w/o breakfast). So our choice was Pensiune Elite. In the front of the first was a tree bursting with small red cherries, which were all over the sidewalk. A woman on the side of the road was busy gathering them up, presumably for resale. They turned out to be mostly juice and pit - delicious sour cherries for preserves.
We took a key, to pay later. It was now around 11:30 am.
We made our way toward Centru, back toward Decebal, walking with a local with cerebral palsy (?) who wanted to talk, and show us the way to the bus station. He had sufficient English to tell us that he was lonely and had few friends. He pointed the way, and a few blocks further to the east was a bus terminal, the Autogara.
A minibus to Roman was leaving about 12:20 pm or so. So for 10 lei apiece, we were off on the half hour ride to Roman, arriving about 1 pm.
Roman is a big small town. Close to the bus station was a large cemetery. Our seat mates on the train had suggested that Jews and Christians might be buried in the same cemetery, so we walked through it, looking for the grave of Michel Froimovici. As it became clear that only Christians were buried here, we walked out. The weather had turned hotter and more humid, with bright sun.
We took a taxi a couple of km to the Jewish Cemetery, arriving at 2 pm. In front of this cemetery was a memorial to the Jews who died in WWI in defense of Romania (so much good that heroism would do them later). We met the caretaker, a very accommodating man with a young family. He checked the book. The grave of Michel Froimovici was at Row 21, Plat 81, not 21/31 as shown on the Jewish Gen website. We found row 21 easily, but by the time we hit plat 30 or so, everything was so overgrown with 8 foot trees, we could barely proceed. Carol and the caretaker pushed back along the row, to no luck. After giving him a small tip for his efforts so far, we promised the caretaker a reasonable bit of money for a picture of Michel Froimovici's gravestone, whenever he got the initiative to saw down some trees. The caretaker said that the Jewish community center was at Piata Marii.
We had sent off the waiting taxi, so around 2:45 pm, we walked out, noticed the edge of town was less than a half km away and started walking. We came to a taxi, which took us to Piata Marii, and, for a few cents more, to the Comunitatea Evreilor on Str. Sucedava Nr. 131 (3 pm). The small building was locked up tight as a drum, so we sat down, drank some water, and ate some fruit. No Jews walked by, although a Trabant drove by, so we went over to a nearby market, bought some carrots (1 lei for 3 carrots with greens), some radishes (1 lei for a bunch), 1/2 kg of small strawberries (the folks on the train had extolled the flavor of Romanian strawberries) and a 1/2 kg of apricots. The strawberries had to be eaten within the hour, but they were sweet and had real strawberry flavor. And the radishes were fresh and pungent.
No potential Jews appears during the hour, so we finally hopped a taxi to the Autogara, where we waited for a 5:10 bus back to Bacau.
Back in Bacau, we walked over to the Decebal, picked up our bags, took a taxi to the Elite and checked in. By now it was cooler and more pleasant. The streets were crowded with couples and families out for a stroll.
Carol had spotted a restaurant the night before that she wanted to try. So we caught a bus back to that part of town. The restaurant, Curcanal de Aur (Golden Cockerel), featuring traditional regional food, was crowded. We sat down, ordered the Tochituras (one Bacauana, one with chicken), along with a Cherry Angelle (a cherry liqueur), a dark Silva beer, and a cabbage salad. The Tochitura Bacauna (16 lei) contained pulpa de porc, carnati, jumani, ficat (all meat items), mamaliga, ou, branza burduf (the egg, cornmeal, and cheese). This time the cheese (branza burduf) was not inside the fried mamaliga, but on the side. The chicken dish was similar, but contained pieces of chicken breast, along with various innards. (15 lei). Spectacular both! The total came to 43 lei (50 lei with tip, or $15.50). We were well fed and nicely plastered.
During our meal, we watched a young man on the street who took the opportunity to dash in and finish any remaining alcohol from departed patrons.
It was now 9 pm. Bus back to the Pensiune. We found three TV channels with Romanian singers and dancers, picked one and watched until it was time for bed.
Each of the hotels so far had a TV and each had folksinging stations. After a while you get to be a connoscieur of production values for folksinging shows. Some were full videos with a plot. One cute video told the tale of young love. The couple runs off in the night, the father (then the neighbors, the priest, the soldiers) in hot pursuit. O where has my daughter gone?? The father awakens - it was all a dream. He tiptoes into her room, and finds her safe in bed. After he leaves, another hand pops up from the bedding.
Up at 9 am. We really needed that sleep. Our bodies were much better for the extra ZZZs. Down to our breakfast, with only 20 minutes to spare. We ordered a Bacau omelet, which contained all sorts of vegetables, two kinds of meat, and two kinds of cheese. A real trenchermen's meal. The other dish was the "traditional dish" - a big round ball of mamaliga, stuffed with telemea and burduf cheese, with a soft fried egg on top, with a vivid orange yolk. On the side were three pieces of "country ham." Carol had a real latte, "lapte" in Romanian. Mike had regular coffee.
Much to our surprise, we were not charged at all, even though we had ordered the best items from the menu. We checked the computer in the hotel, found two nearby pensiunes, including one that was recommended to us earlier.
We left our bags at Decebal and checked out the two pensiune. The first was nice but slightly dark and more expensive (160 lei) than the second (140 lei w/o breakfast). So our choice was Pensiune Elite. In the front of the first was a tree bursting with small red cherries, which were all over the sidewalk. A woman on the side of the road was busy gathering them up, presumably for resale. They turned out to be mostly juice and pit - delicious sour cherries for preserves.
We took a key, to pay later. It was now around 11:30 am.
We made our way toward Centru, back toward Decebal, walking with a local with cerebral palsy (?) who wanted to talk, and show us the way to the bus station. He had sufficient English to tell us that he was lonely and had few friends. He pointed the way, and a few blocks further to the east was a bus terminal, the Autogara.
A minibus to Roman was leaving about 12:20 pm or so. So for 10 lei apiece, we were off on the half hour ride to Roman, arriving about 1 pm.
Roman is a big small town. Close to the bus station was a large cemetery. Our seat mates on the train had suggested that Jews and Christians might be buried in the same cemetery, so we walked through it, looking for the grave of Michel Froimovici. As it became clear that only Christians were buried here, we walked out. The weather had turned hotter and more humid, with bright sun.
We took a taxi a couple of km to the Jewish Cemetery, arriving at 2 pm. In front of this cemetery was a memorial to the Jews who died in WWI in defense of Romania (so much good that heroism would do them later). We met the caretaker, a very accommodating man with a young family. He checked the book. The grave of Michel Froimovici was at Row 21, Plat 81, not 21/31 as shown on the Jewish Gen website. We found row 21 easily, but by the time we hit plat 30 or so, everything was so overgrown with 8 foot trees, we could barely proceed. Carol and the caretaker pushed back along the row, to no luck. After giving him a small tip for his efforts so far, we promised the caretaker a reasonable bit of money for a picture of Michel Froimovici's gravestone, whenever he got the initiative to saw down some trees. The caretaker said that the Jewish community center was at Piata Marii.
We had sent off the waiting taxi, so around 2:45 pm, we walked out, noticed the edge of town was less than a half km away and started walking. We came to a taxi, which took us to Piata Marii, and, for a few cents more, to the Comunitatea Evreilor on Str. Sucedava Nr. 131 (3 pm). The small building was locked up tight as a drum, so we sat down, drank some water, and ate some fruit. No Jews walked by, although a Trabant drove by, so we went over to a nearby market, bought some carrots (1 lei for 3 carrots with greens), some radishes (1 lei for a bunch), 1/2 kg of small strawberries (the folks on the train had extolled the flavor of Romanian strawberries) and a 1/2 kg of apricots. The strawberries had to be eaten within the hour, but they were sweet and had real strawberry flavor. And the radishes were fresh and pungent.
No potential Jews appears during the hour, so we finally hopped a taxi to the Autogara, where we waited for a 5:10 bus back to Bacau.
Back in Bacau, we walked over to the Decebal, picked up our bags, took a taxi to the Elite and checked in. By now it was cooler and more pleasant. The streets were crowded with couples and families out for a stroll.
Carol had spotted a restaurant the night before that she wanted to try. So we caught a bus back to that part of town. The restaurant, Curcanal de Aur (Golden Cockerel), featuring traditional regional food, was crowded. We sat down, ordered the Tochituras (one Bacauana, one with chicken), along with a Cherry Angelle (a cherry liqueur), a dark Silva beer, and a cabbage salad. The Tochitura Bacauna (16 lei) contained pulpa de porc, carnati, jumani, ficat (all meat items), mamaliga, ou, branza burduf (the egg, cornmeal, and cheese). This time the cheese (branza burduf) was not inside the fried mamaliga, but on the side. The chicken dish was similar, but contained pieces of chicken breast, along with various innards. (15 lei). Spectacular both! The total came to 43 lei (50 lei with tip, or $15.50). We were well fed and nicely plastered.
During our meal, we watched a young man on the street who took the opportunity to dash in and finish any remaining alcohol from departed patrons.
It was now 9 pm. Bus back to the Pensiune. We found three TV channels with Romanian singers and dancers, picked one and watched until it was time for bed.
Each of the hotels so far had a TV and each had folksinging stations. After a while you get to be a connoscieur of production values for folksinging shows. Some were full videos with a plot. One cute video told the tale of young love. The couple runs off in the night, the father (then the neighbors, the priest, the soldiers) in hot pursuit. O where has my daughter gone?? The father awakens - it was all a dream. He tiptoes into her room, and finds her safe in bed. After he leaves, another hand pops up from the bedding.
8 Jun 2014 Bucuresti to Bacau
8 Jun 2014 Bucuresti to Bacau
Up at 6:45, dressed and out by 7:45. We take the Metro to Obor Station, where there is a fine market. We were rushed and ended up getting 200 g hard cheese (5 lei), 500 g cherries (4 lei), and 700 g apricots (5 lei), along with 6 radishes (1 lei). We got 700 g of apricots because Mike tried the word for "five" hundred grams, and the merchant heard "5" lei worth. (Back at the hotel we will learn the word for "half," as in "a half kilogram." Carrots and nuts will have to wait for the next market. Ditto for strawberries.
We are in a hurry, because there is so much do this AM. From the hotel, we take the 123 bus to Piata Unirii. Off to the Jewish History Museum. "Closed on 8 Jun and 9 Jun" (for us special??). This freed up lots of time. So off to La Placinte, where we had invartite with sheep cheese herbs, along with ghivech and some bread. Again, delicious --- best of show.
Took the 133 bus back to the hotel. As we were waiting, we saw a woman posting a sign for a student production of Ionescu's play "Rhinocerus." Music, staging, everything, but we'll be gone tonight. Too bad. We were about to take the bus in the wrong direction, but a local waved us off. Carol scooped up a snail that was attempting to cross the street with us. One snail saved.
Back to the hotel before 12:45 - in time to get to the train station, for our 2:00 pm train to Bacau. At the train station, we had a 2 lei sweet placinte with pumpkins, absolutely no comparison with the 15 lei version at La Placinte. Quality costs.
On the train we took seats, not necessarily ours. Next to us were a pair of 30+ year olds, with whom we traded correct seats. (Our seats 65 & 66 were not adjacent, and theirs 64 & 67 were also not adjacent.) Also joining us were a husband wife going home from England to a town near Suceava. They had flown to Otopeni Airport (Bucuresti) and were taking the train to Suceava. All told their journey was to take apx 18 hours. He was irritated that our bags were on the wrong side, and seemed to take a dislike to us and took no role in the conversations. Our conversations ranged over food - they suggested eating tochitura, which we had not tried, and placinte, which we had. They suggested certain regional wines and liquors, like tuica. We talked about Romania and travel and traditions, and the 5 hours passed quickly.
We got into Bacau at apx 1900. We had booked at Pensiune Ellora, which we thought was near the station. The bus driver at the train station said hop in, and he drove and drove on through the city for many kms. Finally, he said: Get off and walk that way. When we passed a horse grazing at the side of the street, we knew that things were going wrong. A km later, seemingly out in the country, there was the hotel. It seemed to be way the hell away from anything, and the beds were soft. So we said No Thanks, and walked back to the bus stop. We caught a bus back to town, and got off a few stops too far. Finally, someone suggested a relatively expensive hotel, Decebal, in the town center. At this point, we took a taxi a couple of blocks and checked in (215 lei or $66.50 per night). We were tired and hungry. A block away was a crowded restaurant, where we got a bowl of chicken soup and a bottle of beer. Thehotel room turned out to be wonderful and we slept well.
Up at 6:45, dressed and out by 7:45. We take the Metro to Obor Station, where there is a fine market. We were rushed and ended up getting 200 g hard cheese (5 lei), 500 g cherries (4 lei), and 700 g apricots (5 lei), along with 6 radishes (1 lei). We got 700 g of apricots because Mike tried the word for "five" hundred grams, and the merchant heard "5" lei worth. (Back at the hotel we will learn the word for "half," as in "a half kilogram." Carrots and nuts will have to wait for the next market. Ditto for strawberries.
We are in a hurry, because there is so much do this AM. From the hotel, we take the 123 bus to Piata Unirii. Off to the Jewish History Museum. "Closed on 8 Jun and 9 Jun" (for us special??). This freed up lots of time. So off to La Placinte, where we had invartite with sheep cheese herbs, along with ghivech and some bread. Again, delicious --- best of show.
Took the 133 bus back to the hotel. As we were waiting, we saw a woman posting a sign for a student production of Ionescu's play "Rhinocerus." Music, staging, everything, but we'll be gone tonight. Too bad. We were about to take the bus in the wrong direction, but a local waved us off. Carol scooped up a snail that was attempting to cross the street with us. One snail saved.
Back to the hotel before 12:45 - in time to get to the train station, for our 2:00 pm train to Bacau. At the train station, we had a 2 lei sweet placinte with pumpkins, absolutely no comparison with the 15 lei version at La Placinte. Quality costs.
On the train we took seats, not necessarily ours. Next to us were a pair of 30+ year olds, with whom we traded correct seats. (Our seats 65 & 66 were not adjacent, and theirs 64 & 67 were also not adjacent.) Also joining us were a husband wife going home from England to a town near Suceava. They had flown to Otopeni Airport (Bucuresti) and were taking the train to Suceava. All told their journey was to take apx 18 hours. He was irritated that our bags were on the wrong side, and seemed to take a dislike to us and took no role in the conversations. Our conversations ranged over food - they suggested eating tochitura, which we had not tried, and placinte, which we had. They suggested certain regional wines and liquors, like tuica. We talked about Romania and travel and traditions, and the 5 hours passed quickly.
We got into Bacau at apx 1900. We had booked at Pensiune Ellora, which we thought was near the station. The bus driver at the train station said hop in, and he drove and drove on through the city for many kms. Finally, he said: Get off and walk that way. When we passed a horse grazing at the side of the street, we knew that things were going wrong. A km later, seemingly out in the country, there was the hotel. It seemed to be way the hell away from anything, and the beds were soft. So we said No Thanks, and walked back to the bus stop. We caught a bus back to town, and got off a few stops too far. Finally, someone suggested a relatively expensive hotel, Decebal, in the town center. At this point, we took a taxi a couple of blocks and checked in (215 lei or $66.50 per night). We were tired and hungry. A block away was a crowded restaurant, where we got a bowl of chicken soup and a bottle of beer. Thehotel room turned out to be wonderful and we slept well.
Wednesday, June 11, 2014
7 Jun 2014 Bucuresti
Because we are somewhere close to 45 degrees N (think Minneapolis, MN), the sun rises EARLY, even with daylight savings time.
Carol awakens before 6 AM and heads down to the hotel internet computer. Mike gets up at 7, after being disturbed at 6 by his wife. Breakfast consists one croiisant-like bread, three little cookies, and a small cup of coffee: very continental, no? We head out at 9 AM to the Gara de Nord to purchase our tickets to Bacau the next day (75.50 lei each - $23.25 - for a trip of about 4:45). Then we buy a SIM card at Vodaphone (20 lei of calls and 90 lei for the card) for all of our trip. We now have a phone.
We retrace our steps to the Caryatid and take some pictures, around 10 AM. We pass a man feeding the stray dogs. There are stray dogs all over town. The Lonely Planet Language book is seriously deficient in not providing a translation of "dog" into Romanian. It is "caine."
We take the METRO to Piata Unirii, the area that once held the old Jewish neighborhood. We see the gated Choral Synagogue, now closed for renovation. There is a moving tribute to holocaust victims in the front of the grounds. We are given directions to an active synagogue. Our path leads us past the Yiddish Theater. We see posters for past performances which have included Driving Miss Daisy and King Lear, all in Yiddish, of course.
But where is the synagogue? A guard at the theater takes us outdoors and points - totally engulfed by apartment blocks is the Great Synagogue. By now it is 11:40 AM. We have arrived in time for the Aleinu and a kiddush. Carol notes: great timing.
The interior is beautiful, painted in the stile of Romanian folk art and floral designs. The synagogue has an upper balcony for women, but they are not using it. They have put a mechitza with fairly sheer curtains down the middle of the main floor. About 20 men and a handful of women.
The women busy themselves with serving up the kiddush, the men with the blessings. What a heimish treat! First, we are served a plate with pickled cabbage/vegetable salad, with a scoop of chopped liver, which we assumed was the entire kiddush. Then a plate of old school cholent, beans, a hunk of meat, and a browned egg. Finally, there are plates of fresh cherries. And, of course, alcohol. Mike chats with several congregants and the visiting rabbi.
We leave about 12:30 PM. We visit a small old church we had passed, St. Nicholas-Udricani Church. There are lots of icons and painted renditions of biblical stories, both inside and out. Think back to the time when churches and synagogues shared a neighborhood.
Heading out, we pass a sign commemorating a church, demolished in 1987 by the "Comuniste din Romania." So much for living together in harmony.
We go into a fancy Greek pastry shop. They sell the familiar Turkish syrup-dipped mini donuts, tulumba, for 55 lei ($19) per kg. The Turks sell the full size version for 50c each in Turkey. Everything else is similarly pricy.
A dude with his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders wears a t-shirt that says: "F*** You Very Much." In the space of an hour or so, we have seen too many strange things. At this point, the camera battery starts to fail, and we do too, overcome by jet lag. So we take the METRO back to the hotel, arriving at 2 PM (7 AM home time). We find the fresh battery, charge the old one, and take a short nap.
At 3 PM, we are up and at 'em. But we are waylaid by the free internet at the hotel, and spend 1.5 hours answering e-mails.
Back to the Old Town. We get out at Universitatae, one METRO stop north of Piata Unirii, tourist central in Bucuresti. We are at the University. It is frat boy heaven. Lots of bars. Within, people are watching the woman's tennis match between Sharapova and Halep. Halep is Romanian and the clear local favorite. Every time she scores, you hear cheers out from each local bar.
We visit several old churches. One of them is lit strangely. A wedding couple is being photographed by a group of professional photographers. For some strange reason, the party, including the presumed mother-in-law and the bride, are all wearing black. Walking down the street, we pass a young photographer lying on the ground, painstakingly taking a picture of a fruit-laden mulberry tree.
Time to start looking for dinner. We had picked out a recommended restaurant. The menu was pricy for us, and the site too touristy, so we headed to the alternate, La Placinte, in Piata Romana, a place specializing in traditional Moldovan cuisine. Beautiful restaurant, beautiful prepared food. We ordered Solveanka (soup), a Placinte (main dish pie stuffed with savory pumpkin) and a fresh mixed berry drink. Outstanding food. Meal was over at 8 PM, and we quickly headed back to the Great Synagogue for mincha/maariv. Carol was the only female. The Shalosh Seudot featured arak, burekas, and fresh apricots. Havdalah featured a man holding a cup of wine absolutely full while juggling spices, etc. Carol went outside for a Kiddush Levana while Mike took photes within. It is now 10:30 PM.
Back to the hotel, some internet, and to bed.
Carol awakens before 6 AM and heads down to the hotel internet computer. Mike gets up at 7, after being disturbed at 6 by his wife. Breakfast consists one croiisant-like bread, three little cookies, and a small cup of coffee: very continental, no? We head out at 9 AM to the Gara de Nord to purchase our tickets to Bacau the next day (75.50 lei each - $23.25 - for a trip of about 4:45). Then we buy a SIM card at Vodaphone (20 lei of calls and 90 lei for the card) for all of our trip. We now have a phone.
We retrace our steps to the Caryatid and take some pictures, around 10 AM. We pass a man feeding the stray dogs. There are stray dogs all over town. The Lonely Planet Language book is seriously deficient in not providing a translation of "dog" into Romanian. It is "caine."
We take the METRO to Piata Unirii, the area that once held the old Jewish neighborhood. We see the gated Choral Synagogue, now closed for renovation. There is a moving tribute to holocaust victims in the front of the grounds. We are given directions to an active synagogue. Our path leads us past the Yiddish Theater. We see posters for past performances which have included Driving Miss Daisy and King Lear, all in Yiddish, of course.
But where is the synagogue? A guard at the theater takes us outdoors and points - totally engulfed by apartment blocks is the Great Synagogue. By now it is 11:40 AM. We have arrived in time for the Aleinu and a kiddush. Carol notes: great timing.
The interior is beautiful, painted in the stile of Romanian folk art and floral designs. The synagogue has an upper balcony for women, but they are not using it. They have put a mechitza with fairly sheer curtains down the middle of the main floor. About 20 men and a handful of women.
The women busy themselves with serving up the kiddush, the men with the blessings. What a heimish treat! First, we are served a plate with pickled cabbage/vegetable salad, with a scoop of chopped liver, which we assumed was the entire kiddush. Then a plate of old school cholent, beans, a hunk of meat, and a browned egg. Finally, there are plates of fresh cherries. And, of course, alcohol. Mike chats with several congregants and the visiting rabbi.
We leave about 12:30 PM. We visit a small old church we had passed, St. Nicholas-Udricani Church. There are lots of icons and painted renditions of biblical stories, both inside and out. Think back to the time when churches and synagogues shared a neighborhood.
Heading out, we pass a sign commemorating a church, demolished in 1987 by the "Comuniste din Romania." So much for living together in harmony.
We go into a fancy Greek pastry shop. They sell the familiar Turkish syrup-dipped mini donuts, tulumba, for 55 lei ($19) per kg. The Turks sell the full size version for 50c each in Turkey. Everything else is similarly pricy.
A dude with his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders wears a t-shirt that says: "F*** You Very Much." In the space of an hour or so, we have seen too many strange things. At this point, the camera battery starts to fail, and we do too, overcome by jet lag. So we take the METRO back to the hotel, arriving at 2 PM (7 AM home time). We find the fresh battery, charge the old one, and take a short nap.
At 3 PM, we are up and at 'em. But we are waylaid by the free internet at the hotel, and spend 1.5 hours answering e-mails.
Back to the Old Town. We get out at Universitatae, one METRO stop north of Piata Unirii, tourist central in Bucuresti. We are at the University. It is frat boy heaven. Lots of bars. Within, people are watching the woman's tennis match between Sharapova and Halep. Halep is Romanian and the clear local favorite. Every time she scores, you hear cheers out from each local bar.
We visit several old churches. One of them is lit strangely. A wedding couple is being photographed by a group of professional photographers. For some strange reason, the party, including the presumed mother-in-law and the bride, are all wearing black. Walking down the street, we pass a young photographer lying on the ground, painstakingly taking a picture of a fruit-laden mulberry tree.
Time to start looking for dinner. We had picked out a recommended restaurant. The menu was pricy for us, and the site too touristy, so we headed to the alternate, La Placinte, in Piata Romana, a place specializing in traditional Moldovan cuisine. Beautiful restaurant, beautiful prepared food. We ordered Solveanka (soup), a Placinte (main dish pie stuffed with savory pumpkin) and a fresh mixed berry drink. Outstanding food. Meal was over at 8 PM, and we quickly headed back to the Great Synagogue for mincha/maariv. Carol was the only female. The Shalosh Seudot featured arak, burekas, and fresh apricots. Havdalah featured a man holding a cup of wine absolutely full while juggling spices, etc. Carol went outside for a Kiddush Levana while Mike took photes within. It is now 10:30 PM.
Back to the hotel, some internet, and to bed.
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
6 Jun 2014 Paris to Bucuresti
We get in to CDG about 11:50 AM instead of 11 AM. We have planned a guided visit to Roissy-en-France, the historic village adjacent to the airport. The village offers free tours to the captive audience awaiting their connections - a good deal all around. But first we must get to Roissy. It takes 20 minutes to get off the airplane (and we are in the middle). We go from Terminal 2M to Terminal 2K via shuttle. We France into Terminal 2E. Then take the CGDVAL shuttle to Terminal 3 Roissypole. Finally, we catch the 95-02 bus to Roissy-en-France. A fair number of ethnic French (African) are also on the bus. It is now 2 PM local time.
Roissy is a picture perfect town with a 15th century church, St. Eloi. There are flowers all around and cherry trees in full fruit. We have a guide with excellent English. She is passionate about her village and its WWII history. She comments off-hand that "the immigrants live several miles away." We cut the tour short at 50 minutes to reverse the process of returning to our gate. This time we are more efficient, but nonetheless we arrive at 3:55 PM - Loading Time, and find out (thankfully) that our flight has been delayed by 10 minutes.
We are on the plane at 4:30 PM. It is an uneventful flight. We arrive at Bucuresti at 8:20 PM. (This is 7 time zones east of Eastern Daylight Time - our body time is 1:20 PM.
The Bucuresti airport (Otopeni) is pretty efficient for incoming non-Shengen nationals (EU). There is a bus 780 going direct to Gara de Nord, which is walking distance from our hotel. In order to catch the bus, we have to put the 7 lei fare for 2 on a plastic card. We can reload fares on the card, but we don't realize that just yet, and so Mike hands it over to the driver.
On the way to our lodging, we pass under trees filled with white mulberries.
We have reserved at the Hotel Elizeu, a very clean and pleasant place. And, because it is the weekend, it is only 27 Euros per night. It is still early, by our body time (3:40 PM), even though it is already 10:40 PM, so we go out for dinner. Up the street there is an imposing bridge with multi-colored lights that draws our attention. This is Gara de Basarab. We pass Basarab Restaurant, but it is closed. We also pass a few "working girls," but this is still a comfortable working class community.
We head across the railroad tracks on a tram bridge. Then back along the tracks on the other side, past the Gara de Nord. We notice an interesting old house, with decorative carved female figures (caryatids), but it is too dark for photos.Finally, we head back to the Gara de Nord, and eat at (where else?) McDonald's, the only place open around midnight.
Roissy is a picture perfect town with a 15th century church, St. Eloi. There are flowers all around and cherry trees in full fruit. We have a guide with excellent English. She is passionate about her village and its WWII history. She comments off-hand that "the immigrants live several miles away." We cut the tour short at 50 minutes to reverse the process of returning to our gate. This time we are more efficient, but nonetheless we arrive at 3:55 PM - Loading Time, and find out (thankfully) that our flight has been delayed by 10 minutes.
We are on the plane at 4:30 PM. It is an uneventful flight. We arrive at Bucuresti at 8:20 PM. (This is 7 time zones east of Eastern Daylight Time - our body time is 1:20 PM.
The Bucuresti airport (Otopeni) is pretty efficient for incoming non-Shengen nationals (EU). There is a bus 780 going direct to Gara de Nord, which is walking distance from our hotel. In order to catch the bus, we have to put the 7 lei fare for 2 on a plastic card. We can reload fares on the card, but we don't realize that just yet, and so Mike hands it over to the driver.
On the way to our lodging, we pass under trees filled with white mulberries.
We have reserved at the Hotel Elizeu, a very clean and pleasant place. And, because it is the weekend, it is only 27 Euros per night. It is still early, by our body time (3:40 PM), even though it is already 10:40 PM, so we go out for dinner. Up the street there is an imposing bridge with multi-colored lights that draws our attention. This is Gara de Basarab. We pass Basarab Restaurant, but it is closed. We also pass a few "working girls," but this is still a comfortable working class community.
We head across the railroad tracks on a tram bridge. Then back along the tracks on the other side, past the Gara de Nord. We notice an interesting old house, with decorative carved female figures (caryatids), but it is too dark for photos.Finally, we head back to the Gara de Nord, and eat at (where else?) McDonald's, the only place open around midnight.
5 Jun 2014 -From Atlanta to Paris
Mike and Carol are headed back to Europe.
In Atlanta we take MARTA to the airport. On the shuttle bus,we meet 2 middle-aged women, one from Salt Lake City, the other from Albuquerque, flying on the same plane as us.We see them again later: they have a problem. One of them has a passport expiring at the end of June; the airline is enforcing the six month rule and refusing to allow her to board. But that is her story, not ours...
Time to nap awaiting our departure. Eventually we proceed to our gate. It takes FOREVER to load a 400 passenger airplane! About 3/4 of the way into loading, there is a storm with lightening. Loading stops. Lucky for us, we are not yet on the plane and have the relative comfort of the concourse.
Mike has communicative seatmates; Carol does not. She forgoes the tempting movies in favor of sleep. Mike also dozes. The airplane food and drinks are good and perhaps overly plentiful.
We are going to get in late, and most of the plane will miss their connections. Not us. We deliberately left ourselves 5 hours to transfer in Charles De Gaulle (CDG) Airport.
In Atlanta we take MARTA to the airport. On the shuttle bus,we meet 2 middle-aged women, one from Salt Lake City, the other from Albuquerque, flying on the same plane as us.We see them again later: they have a problem. One of them has a passport expiring at the end of June; the airline is enforcing the six month rule and refusing to allow her to board. But that is her story, not ours...
Time to nap awaiting our departure. Eventually we proceed to our gate. It takes FOREVER to load a 400 passenger airplane! About 3/4 of the way into loading, there is a storm with lightening. Loading stops. Lucky for us, we are not yet on the plane and have the relative comfort of the concourse.
Mike has communicative seatmates; Carol does not. She forgoes the tempting movies in favor of sleep. Mike also dozes. The airplane food and drinks are good and perhaps overly plentiful.
We are going to get in late, and most of the plane will miss their connections. Not us. We deliberately left ourselves 5 hours to transfer in Charles De Gaulle (CDG) Airport.
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