Transilvania’s Autumn Palette That Feels Like Home
A story of the provincial charm, train woes, and specialty coffee in the middle of the Carpathian mountains
Embarking on the Bucharest to Brasov train journey somewhere around noon, our adventure kicked off with a slight delay of about ten minutes. As the train finally arrived, we started rapidly navigating the platform.
The numbering of the train cars was anything but straightforward — the second car might not follow the third but jump to the tenth. Eventually, we entered a random car of the first class (the same that was indicated in our tickets) and found seats with the same numbers as ours. It soon became apparent that locals rarely stuck to their assigned seats, often swapping multiple times during the journey for unknown reasons.
The first-class carriage of the direct train greeted us with an ambiance distinctly Romanian, a taste of which we had already grasped during our short stay in Bucharest. The seats were vivid, velvety, and crimson — perhaps a playful reference to Dracula or an (un)intentional echo of Gypsy stereotypes. In any case, the approach was non-European, lacking the usual subtlety in tones and rationality in the organization.
Approximately an hour into the journey, the landscape started to fascinate us with its Carpathian mountains, compelling us to capture every scenic moment through our lenses.
We arrived in Brasov from Bucharest around 3 pm. With the early darkness of November approaching, we aimed to reach the city center quickly to explore it in the remaining sunlight.
Exiting the railway station, we encountered aggressive marketing from the local taxi drivers, throwing random fare prices at us. One of them declared 120 lei (around 25 euros) as we were checking Google Maps for public transport options or the feasibility of walking to the city center.
The same 25 euros we paid in Bucharest to get to the city center from the airport. There, it was a 17 km distance. In Brasov, the distance was actually walkable – 4 km. So we told the taxi driver that this was way too expensive and headed to the bus stop.
Before coming to Transilvania, we spent three days in Bucharest, thus already knew that there was a problem with Romanian public transport being integrated into Google Maps. Some kinds of transport (almost all of them) are not on the Maps at all.
From Brasov to the city center, there were some bus options. At first, we were willing to check them out, until I looked down my smartphone screen and saw that Google predicted taxi fare for the drive as 12–18 lei (2–4 euros). This was tempting. And the rate was confirmed by Uber.
Before our car picked us up, the aforementioned taxi driver caught us again to inform us that the castle was to be closed at 4 pm. A nice gesture yet irrelevant, as we were not planning to visit any castles that evening.
Once in the taxi, we spoke to the driver who gladly provided us with some tips on what to do in the region touristic-wise. There it dawned on us that most tourists headed straight to Bran Castle (the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula) from the railway station instead of checking out Brasov. The fare of 120 lei that was proposed to us at the train station was for the trip to Bran, which is 30 km away. Hence, that price was reasonable, too. It was just not of current interest to us.
Our guesthouse was conveniently close to the center, which allowed us to drop our backpacks before venturing out. It is advisable to rent the habitation close to the city center in Brasov, as the city is very scattered.
The first thing we did after exiting the guesthouse was find a shopping mall to buy me a hat and gloves. The weather was freezing and windy. Although it was Sunday, the mall worked. Such a luxury if you are coming from Spain, where Sunday is an uncompromising day off.
Wandering through the town, we marveled at the unique colors of the houses — mustard, pea, raspberry sorbet — vibrant yet warm and autumnal. On a hill, giant letters spelled “Brasov,” reminiscent of the iconic Hollywood sign. We later found such a charmingly rustic decoration in other Transylvanian towns, too.
Autumn in Transylvania, with familiar trees like chestnuts, maples, and oaks, felt like a nostalgic connection for me, hailing from the North of Ukraine. The crisp humid air carried the homely scent of leaves.
Brasov’s location in a valley, surrounded by a hillside park, provided a perfect viewpoint over the city. The yellow leaves underfoot added to the joy, reminiscent of childhood moments spent purposefully rustling through fallen leaves.
The following day, we woke up and made our way to the bus station, bound for Bran Castle. After careful consideration and extensive research on nearby castles, we concluded that was the one we wanted to explore. It wasn’t the allure of Dracula that drew us in; as somewhat experienced travelers, we anticipated the mainstream touristy vibe that often lacked authenticity.
Google Images unveiled stunning rooms within Bran Castle, showcasing a side that interested us. That fact convinced us that Bran Castle was a destination worth exploring.
As we arrived at the station, some bus was pulling away. We were not sure it was ours but apparently looked very confused. The driver stopped and gestured for us to hop on. Luckily, it was heading to Bran.
It is important to note that this bus was not touristic. It was a regular one, with many stops in each village on our way. But there is no other bus that connects the two destinations. The only other option is a taxi.
Inside the bus, burgundy velvet curtains adorned the windows – a nostalgic note for those originating from the former USSR, perhaps a bit odd and old-fashioned for other Europeans.
Upon reaching Bran, we discovered there wasn’t much to do. The castle, while beautiful, was overtly touristy, even on a Monday afternoon with bustling crowds.
The castle is located on a high hill near a gorge and would be truly inspiring if not for the throngs of tourists in, around, and below the castle. Some interior details have been preserved, being the most intriguing part of the excursion.
A provincial vibe is apparent, driven most probably by the eagerness to capitalize on this tourist destination. The castle’s attempt to cater to its Dracula-themed reputation fell into the realm of tackiness. Plastic Dracula mannequins populated the interior, their attempt at horror more on the side of hilarity. The ambiance was further disrupted by ridiculously amusing “scary” sounds and projectors airing strange video recordings in some rooms, contributing more to a sense of theatricality than genuine historical preservation.
It is important to note that the castle is a true historical destination. It was constructed at the end of the XIII century by residents using their own resources and labor, to be exempted from paying taxes to the state treasury.
Below the castle lies a market with souvenirs, each as useless as the next. Plastic children’s toys, unrelated to Dracula and the Castle, mingle with a mix of random low-quality items. I had a long-harbored desire to read Bram Stoker’s novel and thought purchasing it beneath Dracula’s castle would be deeply symbolic. To my surprise, not a single souvenir shop carried the book, an oddly missed opportunity for souvenir sellers’ profit.
The food zone didn’t offer much either. Thankfully, fast food was available to satisfy our hunger, although nothing particularly original can be found. And of course, a cup of mulled wine was timely and very much relevant.
Don’t get me wrong; the castle is charming. Especially in the fall, when the changing leaves paint these stone arches in hues of yellow and orange. It’s just frustrating to witness the consequences of the world’s globalization. Places lose their identity as people chase profits in historical spaces. Tourists pursue a handful of picturesque shots for Instagram, often missing the essence of where they truly are. It’s a sad realization that the soul of these historic sites is at risk.
Having drank mulled wine and eaten hot dogs, we made our way back to the bus stop, hoping to catch a ride back to Brasov. The driver of the bus going elsewhere informed us that our bus would arrive in 10 minutes.
After 40 minutes of waiting, our bus failed to show up. As I said, Google Maps doesn’t show updates on buses in the region, so there is no way to find out where your seeking transport is at the moment and when it will arrive. Throughout this time, taxi drivers across the road stood in a mocking line, probably amused by the sight of one tourist after another being frustrated by waiting and opting for taxis.
We checked Uber and found a fare of 120 lei (24 euros). The taxi driver across the road quoted 135. Deciding that a few extra euros weren't worth the hassle of waiting for Uber, we hopped into the taxi. Upon reaching Brasov, the taxi meter displayed 150 lei.
– This is more than we discussed, — we pointed out.
– To the center, it's more kilometers, — the taxi driver replied casually, though the destination and price had been agreed upon from the start and hadn't changed en route. The experience taught us the importance of relying on Uber with a fixed rate.
In Brasov, we had a few hours before our train back to Bucharest, so we decided to take a final stroll through the historic center and enjoy some coffee.
The abundance of specialty coffee shops had already impressed us in Bucharest, and to our surprise, Brasov didn’t disappoint either. We stumbled upon at least two specialty coffee shops there.
In one of them called CH9, we ordered a V60. The barista warned us that we would have to wait for about 10 minutes for the coffee to be prepared. In Romania, we had been told the same a few times before, and normally the food or drinks were served faster than the stipulated time. In Spain, however, “espere un poquito” normally means indefinitely. Sorry for this digression; it’s just impossible not to compare the travel destinations with the place you call home.
We were suggested to choose from four types of beans from different countries. Again: we were not in the capital city. Brasov is only the 6th most populous city in the country. We also couldn’t resist a banana cake and chocolate salami.
We enjoyed our coffee and desserts on the street terrace, across from the Black Church — a truly inspiring location. The crisp November air blended seamlessly with the warmth of the coffee.
Later, as we took a final walk through the city, we bumped into the same people we had seen at the castle during the day and later at the bus stop nearby while in Bran. We jokingly speculated among ourselves that perhaps the bus did eventually arrive at some point. However, jokes aside, public transport in Romania is in a lot of trouble, and you’ll soon make sure of that.
We arrived at the train station about 15 minutes before departure. Spotting our platform on the display board, we headed towards it to ensure we didn’t miss our train. An eerie melody played for about 10 seconds every time before any announcements on train statuses, occurring roughly every 2–5 minutes. If you’re familiar with the haunting tune of the suicidal song “Baby Shark,” this melody, after the tenth repetition, gives a similar effect.
At the scheduled arrival time of our train, an announcement in Romanian indicated a delay. We gathered this much as we heard “Bucharest” and “scuze” in one sentence, deducing it was an apology. Using Google Translate, we decoded the number mentioned alongside “scuze” and learned it was a 10-minute delay. After 10 minutes, the train didn’t arrive. It was dark already, and the platform was windy and cold.
A woman, obviously waiting for the same train, approached the conductor on the platform, inquiring about the delay. He gestured towards the empty platform, indicating the train would arrive there. When she asked for a specific time, he started indecipherably gesticulating.
After another ten minutes, we began to wander along the platform. Descending the stairs was not an option, as we were worried we might miss the train. We even started humming and dancing to the above-mentioned eerie melody.
Eventually, the train arrived an hour late. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if we had known it was such a big delay from the beginning. It would allow us to find ways to pass the time. Instead, we shivered on the platform for an hour.
Once on the train, I finally started reading Bram Stoker’s novel, having downloaded it to my smartphone. Remember, I couldn’t buy the Dracula novel at Dracula’s castle. The following words from the book felt very much relatable:
I had to hurry breakfast, for the train started a little before eight, or rather it ought to have done so, for after rushing to the station at 7:30 I had to sit in the carriage for more than an hour before we began to move. It seems to me that the further east you go the more unpunctual are the trains. What ought they to be in China? (Bram Stoker, “Dracula”).
Arriving in Bucharest, we breathed a sincere sigh of relief. How wonderful it is to be in a big city with a vibe and rhythm that you understand. Despite all the nuances, Transylvania left us with wonderful memories. The negatives turned into anecdotes for friends.
I’m definitely going back there. The novel by Bram Stoker has already started to deepen my love for that region. As for Romania — well, it’s not perfect and has its rough edges. But it’s alive and authentic, which is truly precious in our globalized world.
