Via Transilvanica
Sylvatica: From the Latin Sylva “forest”, meaning “growing the forest”
Too much rain. Too many clouds. It was so cold. Just the feeling of cold air hitting my head was making me feel intensely bad. It made me shut the door and turn the blinds off. I started exploring on the internet, looking for places in Europe where you can still find nature reserves untouched by human exploitation. This exploration of mine lasted for some 2 good months, until I found out about a hiking route that was recently made in Romania by Tășuleasa Social, an NGO based in Pasul Tihuța, Bistrița-Năsăud county, these volunteers built a trail similar to the long distance trail from Spain called El Camino. Called Via Transilvanica, it has more than 1400 km and it crosses the entire country, starting in the north, crossing the Carpathian Mountains and it ends in the south-west of the country, on the shores of the Danube river. It takes 2 months to completely cross it by foot. I knew I couldn’t afford 2 months in Romania, so I decided to try to fit 97 km in 4 days. It seemed like a reachable goal for me.
We decided to start from a small village called Dârjiu and go west, following the trail until we reached Sighișoara. So here we go…
The hiking route started with a big bold sign, making us aware of bears around the area, which is quite common in those places in Transylvania. I prepared myself before this journey and I took all the measures in order to make sure I can avoid encounters. In a strange way, I didn’t feel any fear regarding the wildlings. I knew that if you are respectful to nature and prepare yourself thoroughly, things will be ok.
The road started with some beautiful landscapes of green hills and beautiful trees. I was just happy that I closed my phone and I was away from civilization. I really wanted this experience and I wanted to discover what new beautiful things I will encounter on this path. After a few good kilometers, I noticed a slight pain in my feet, caused by my hiking shoes. I didn’t understand why this was happening, as I had worn that pair many times before, but I thought that maybe the pain would be gone the next day.
A distant small village started to appear in front of me. It gave my brain a small dose of belonging as it reassured me that there are still some small pieces of civilization around. You can notice that life moves really slowly in these places. There weren’t many people outside, but everytime someone crossed your path, they would say hello and look at you intrigued and curious about your presence. Just humble and kind souls. The village had a mixture of abandoned and renovated houses built in the transylvanian architectural style, just like many of them are in this forgotten place.
After the village, we arrived at a small lake where some kids were fishing. We had a picnic for a late lunch and continued further until we reached a small forest. Then we continued on the green hills for some more kms, saw a couple foxes in the distance and my feet pain was intensifying, making me dream of just getting these shoes off and sticking my feet in cold water. You could view the village of Archita in the distance with its beautiful, colorful houses. I thought to myself, “This is the first day and I already have blisters on my feet. How the fuck am I going to finish this?”
We reached the location of our stay for the night in Archita. It was a simple transylvanian house, 2 local people who had 2 rooms open for tourists. The owner was waiting for us and gave us cold beers. I can not describe the sound of that cold can opening and the feeling of taking your shoes off and feeling the ground underneath! The hosts were super kind and open with us. We started chatting and we had dinner together and they served us local wine for which they didn’t even want to charge us. We stayed up until 1 or 2 am just drinking and talking. To be honest, they were the kindest hosts I ever met, and the rooms were beautifully decorated with traditional romanian antiques.
The next morning started with a healthy breakfast and a coffee. Their little calf called Lola joined us in the kitchen, curious to see what we were doing there.
It was time for the next part of the journey. The host gave me some patches to put on my blisters (the pain wasn’t gone) and we went forward on our way. Just as we were heading out of the little village, there were bear paw marks on the path, probably made during the previous night.
At every km reached on the route you can see milestones that are engraved by artists and each of them has a unique sign to it. This time it was a wolf. We had to do 27km on this day and this idea was a little daunting as the pain in my feet was intensifying. We had to reach another village called Criț, and this part of the trail was one of the worst in terms of difficulty and danger. We kept climbing the hills around Archita, and we reached a big forest, very dark and dense. You could almost feel the animals watching you cross it and hiding behind trees in the shadows. We started to talk louder and make noises just so we could signal our approach. As I was walking through it, I saw a fresh bear poop with flies on top of it on the trail, and I knew that I had to keep vigilant. It took some good minutes until we came out of this forest but I remember the uneasiness and weird feeling I got inside of it. There were also wild boar marks on the ground. You can sense that not many people are crossing in this area, but I felt a huge relief when we made it on the other side of it.
My pain was intensifying and I had to do portions of the hike without shoes. I was walking in my socks and sometimes I felt the thorns of the weeds going through the cloth, but that pain was still more bearable than the pain from my shoes. And no, you can’t buy shoes in these remote places as there are no stores, not even in the villages, unless it is a small town. So no choice, but to go through.
Also, our water reserve was finished and we weren’t sure if we could find a source of water or an open store in the next village as it was Sunday. We managed to make our way into the village.
The place was looking a little bit like the wild west, with sun burning your flesh, dust on the road and lack of tree shade. A dog with 3 legs was sitting next to a well, with fresh red flesh coming out near the bone of his broken paw, and I handed him 2 sandwiches that I had in my backpack. I could hear loud music coming from the center of the village and we noticed the local tavern was open, with some people staying outside, and you could hear manele (Romanian turbo-folk music) blasting from the small room. The local people were staring at us as they’re not used to having too many “foreigners” around. We bought a can of Cola, water and a Mars bar. I was happy that at least we found water. We sat on the grass just outside the tavern to enjoy the refreshments. I remember that cars used to pass by me, throwing dust on my sweaty skin, and the cold Coca Cola liquid was clearing my throat.
At some point, an old man stopped by and then started talking to us, telling us about the village, about how he served Prince Charles some polenta once, at his daughter’s house and he didn’t know who he was. He was very kind and humble and had the look of a gentle old wise man. He invited us to his place next time we visit, to serve us local mushrooms with fresh garden garlic. He ended the conversation with “Won’t cost you anything!.” and said goodbye. I need to insist on how kind and humble all these people are, in the villages, because nowadays it’s very uncommon to be greeted like this, when you can see that they don’t have a lot, but even so, they’re happy to share and they want to make you feel welcome in their homes and to sincerely get to know you. It makes you wonder for how long these places and traditions will still last in the face of globalization.
We then headed outside the village, continuing on the trail, passing by some more ruins and a pretty small river, and as we were walking, we heard some distant barking. In a few seconds, around 5 large shepherd dogs were sitting 2 meters in front of us. It was scary, but we tried talking to them gently and walked backwards, but facing them, just so we could go outside of their territory. This is very common to see on the trail, so you need to not get scared, or make sudden movements, or even run, as they will interpret those signs as attacks. They’re only guarding the sheep, that’s their duty, and you’re the one intruding on their land. The shepherd then approached us and he said that we should grab a stick while walking and threaten the dogs next time, but I know that this is the way the local people usually deal with this situation. I find it makes the dogs even more angry, rather than anything else. He was an old man who had some hard working hands and blue eyes. He didn’t talk a lot, but he smiled at us and tried to hear what we were saying, as he had some hearing problems. I handed him some dog treats that I had in my jacket, to give to the dogs and then they left us alone.
After this “scary” event, there were some more forests, some of them were really tricky to go through because of the slope of the land and because of their size, which made me curse all the gods. We started chanting and whistling just to get by and avoid danger, with the feeling that I will never reach the end of it. I was yelling “Ade Badeeee!” all the way, which makes no sense, but I just felt like doing it. Because of the rough terrain and the slopes, you really run out of breath so it’s hard to talk – it’s a lot easier to sing random words or noises, as the noise keeps the animals away.
Then, there were some massive hills with farms all around, and they had electric fences, so you needed to be careful with those. Romanians aren’t known for rule following or safety procedures, so you need to be aware of everything around you. Then there was another big forest, but after we crossed it, we had a spectacular view over the whole place. We sat there for a moment, to catch our breath a bit. At this point, my feet were barely functioning and the pain extended to my tibia.
We managed to reach Criț village almost as darkness came. Our hosts had a small house with only 2 bedrooms, but a big garden behind where you can sit and rest your feet. They were kind enough to give us the bigger bedroom, even though we paid for the small one, and offered us some local food. Everything they served there was grown and harvested by them, all natural. The plan was to just crash down and hope that my feet will get better by the morning. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen. It was worse than ever. I just hated that torturous pair of shoes, but I had no option. We needed to rethink the plan, as I couldn’t go further. We decided to go to Saschiz, which was about 16 km away, the next leg of our journey on the trail, and from there we would hitchhike until we reached Sighisoara, and take the night train to Bucharest. I was not sad that I couldn’t complete the trail, as I felt that I found what I was looking for in this experience.
The next day started with some small forests, some other hills and then another small village that looked like a ghost town. No place to find water either, so we just knocked at one of the houses and asked if they could refill our water bottle, as the local shop/tavern was open only for 4 hours a day. This day was also really hot and we already had sun burns on our hands, so we decided to keep the long sleeves on. The trail continued with a long country road, with no place to take shelter from the cruel sun, as there were no trees on the sides of the road, only on some fields that were also surrounded by electric fences. There were some timber factories and farms and a lot of dust. And pain. We found some shade at some point, finally a tree at the edge of the road, with a couple of square meters of shade, but it was good enough, and we sat there for a while.
We continued on the scorching road, until we finally reached Saschiz. Our only dream was a cold beer. I could barely walk. After some time, after we crossed the whole small town, we managed to find a hotel and had a cold beer in their garden. I had the chance to change my clothes and bandages and have a little talk with the owner, who told us where we could go and wait for a car to take us to Sighisoara. We left the shade and coolness of the beer garden and headed towards that place. Of course, it was right in the sun, and again no place to hide, no shade to be seen. I didn’t have high expectations that a car would stop to pick us up, but after not even 5 minutes, one of them actually stopped. It was a local man who was driving to Sighisoara. I couldn’t thank him enough! He told us some stories about his life, about the factories that are closing down in the area and about how hard it is to make an honest living in these places. He was also listening to a ‘90s dance mix CD that had really good vibes and it made me feel like I was traveling back in time. He recommended a place to eat in Sighișoara and also didn’t want to take any money from us for the drive. He just said to us “What comes around, goes around”.
In Sighisoara we had to wait for almost 10 hours until the train to Bucharest and I couldn’t walk anymore, so we sat at that restaurant where we drank lemonades, beers and coffees. Let’s just say that my kidneys had a proper treat that day.
We decided to go a few steps and watch the city from above, seeing a beautiful sunset while we waited for time to pass. Then, due to an emergency, we went to another coffee shop, just so I could finally go to the toilet! Oh, the joy and the pain altogether. We found instead a dive bar with rockers and had some cola and a beer, then we finally headed towards the station. There was still some time to kill until the train arrived, but with me barely walking, we thought it would be best to wait on the platform. It was almost 11PM and I really couldn’t walk anymore. As I was walking and facing down to avoid any bumps on the road that could make the pain worse, right in front of the station I noticed a guy who was crawling on his belly, on the ground. I thought he was drunk or something, but soon after he started following us. We headed for the platform and I started crying because of the pain. I can not describe the feeling, but it felt good to just cry and let it out. The weird guy started crawling across the train rails, just as a train was leaving the station, almost about to hit him. Then, he started playing with invisible objects on the ground or in his hands, while breathing very agitatedly. I need to mention that there were barely any lights on the platform and not many people around. I didn’t know if he was mentally unstable, if he was drugged or just wanted to steal. I was more afraid of this guy than the bear situation. At some point, he started laughing psychotically. Let me just say that it was a loooong wait. Finally the train arrived and oh man, what a train! It was filled with working class people, probably going to work the early morning shifts. It smelled like piss and alcohol and shit, constantly, as the toilet was right behind our seats. The weird guy on the platform hopped in the train as well, but he was kicked out by the ticket controller at the next station, where we just received an SOS message alert on the phone that there were bears around the area. I really thought about this, and how a whole system fails to protect these kinds of people. Maybe his only way to survive in these places is to steal. Who will hire him? Who will listen to him? Who cares anyhow? It was a 7 hour train journey back to Bucharest. At some point I felt that the train would jump off the rails and go into the field. Those train rails haven’t been changed since the communist era.
But we finally made it. We reached Bucharest, we took an Uber, I saw a pretty sunrise through the blocks of cement, while everyone was rushing back to their normal city life. I got out of the car and I crossed the street to reach the apartment. They were the hardest and longest 2 minutes of the journey.
I washed my feet and fell down on the bed. I was grateful for the experience. I was grateful that I was alive.
What are my feelings and thoughts after this hike?
I am thankful that I saw those places. I had the experience of seeing places untouched by humans or turned into tourist resorts. Life runs smoothly in these places, just like a river, in accordance with nature and not against it. I don’t know how long these places will remain like this, but I hope that at least the next generation will experience them.
I’ve learned that comfort will not be my way to go further on my life path. I believe too much comfort kills your soul and your humanity. Bit by bit. Ad by ad. Post by post.
I’ve learned that intelligence is not the biggest virtue, but kindness is.
Romania is a beautiful country, but like many other countries, it will be eaten by globalization and human greed. I saw some forests being exploited and people who are suffering the consequences. I feel like the working man is always being exploited, and big cities are a thing that I want to avoid for the remainder of my life. I don’t believe that nature is scary, some human minds are. I don’t care about politics or economical growth or education or any societal construct, and the system fails everyone who doesn’t fit the template. I don’t want to play its silly game. It is better to be true to myself than play the happy game in a world of hypocrisy.
It was a difficult trail to follow, maybe because I wasn’t in my best shape either, but I think some portions of the route were quite tricky even for experienced hikers. Drink a lot of water, wear sun protection, test the shoes before going and the rest comes naturally. Don’t be frightened to go on hikes like this. You have the opportunity to learn so much about you, to push your limits and practice gratitude. Everytime I thought to myself that I couldn’t make it, a beautiful thing was making its way on our path, just to show me the other side of the coin. I saw endangered bird species, I talked with beautiful souls, I learned so much about building houses and growing farms. I saw a part of Romania and the world that is still unknown and hidden, that you don’t read about on your social media. I believe that’s the authentic Romanian experience. Wild nature and humans living in accordance with it.
I think that the biggest lesson on this journey is to learn to not have expectations. I’m starting to accept the good and the bad that this world is offering. Despite the facade of shit spreading on the wall, there is still kindness, and innocence. So I don’t regret the pain, the suffering. It was all worth it.
If you want to find more about this long distance hiking route, you can visit their page to find out more and read all the info. And maybe make a donation if you can and want. Here it is.