Motto:
I'm filling my travel log with all these
fancy-schmancy
towns in Europe, when I haven't seen barely enough of home.
By the way, notice how Romanians, these Daco-Latin peoples1, have these lovely towns with beautiful names ending in stadt? How could this be?
Anyway, this stadt, like the other one, was founded sometime during the first centuries of the previous millenium, by the very same Sași who were looking to settle at the northern foot of the southern Carpathian mountains. And hey, look:
In front of the photographer lie some walls, guarding a town hosting nice German houses, a variety of churches2 and, as the eagle-eyed reader may have noticed, some buildings that must have been erected by the communists, at least judging by their architecture. But then what lies behind the photographer? Well, behind the photographer lies a whole mountain! Tâmpa, which somehow people managed to almost completely integrate into the town's landscape. Here's a view of the town as seen from the belvedere spot:
No, I did not fall off the top of the world. Just sat my ass there for a while.
Just for the record, for some reason I enjoyed the atmosphere in Brașov more than that of Sibiu. I have no idea how that's even possible, seeing as how Sibiu is "one of the cultural capitals of Europe", while Brașov is this small town industrialized by force by the communists, bearing the name Orașul Stalin -- literally, Stalin City -- for about a decade during that era. And yet I did very much enjoy it, and this isn't town-atmosphere-based introspection either, but it might all be based on my impression -- just that, a mere impression -- that there were fewer poor people lying around.
Above, a very old bench made of stone, on one of the roads from Tâmpa, leading downtown. Tell me, who makes these things nowadays? And why don't they make them anymore? We've "progressed past that point", right? Well, fuck your dear mother as well. Anyway, below we have one view from the so-called Council Square, followed by one view of Tâmpa from downtown.
In case you're wondering, the square was far from empty, I just sat there for a while to find a good moment for my shot.
Moving on -- below, a view of Râșnov, also known as Rosenau (the one in Romania), meaning something roughly along the lines of "the meadow of roses"3. I was told that this view is quite unique, so had I not mentioned it, I'm sure the reader would have guessed the location themselves.
Above, the fortress bearing the same name. Below, views from inside the fortress.
In this last photo, notice the cats playing around on the grass. They did not give one grain of fuck about the so-called humans meandering about.
And we're back in Brașov. The photos below capture a small, dark alley, behind the walls4, with a small river flowing to the side and a hill bearing some towers on the other side of the stream. In the first photo, some kids look like they're about to try taking over the world or something, I don't know.
Below, another "gang", and no, no Leyla Black at the end of it. The end depicted in the photo brings us to a secondary (yet well circulated) street in the historical centre, while the other end leads to the George Enescu square.
Anyway, we stopped at this pub that had a very fancy hipster-ey interior design, with a piano and old books and everything. Below, voilà! a very small part of that everything:
Dat ass, eh? But wait, there's more!
I hope you noticed the smile on their faces. I hope you notice the expression on her face in particular, which might put the whole "do not forget thy whip"/"de ce se bate femeia"/etc. thing in some perspective for you. And if it doesn't, then well, what can I say.
We end this brief story with another artistic moment:
Is that Picasso, I wonder? Looks a bit like him. Anyway, if you happen to visit Romania, make sure to drop by Brașov and the surrounding towns. Embrace the small yet substantial nuggets of history, and (my advice is to) skip the whole Dracula crap while you're there.
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Mândri că suntem români, nu-i așa?
Mândri că sunteți vite, mai degrabă. ↩
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Among which the famous Black Church, nowadays mostly a museum -- meh. I hear the organ is very much functional though, although I didn't get to hear it during my excursion through town. Too bad, but something tells me that I'll want to see this one again soon, so y'know, there's always next time! ↩
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Take a look at the town's coat of arms, it's not accidental. ↩
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No, really, that's what they call it. ↩
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