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Published: September 16th 2008
Sighisoara Tuesday 12th February 2008 Ecstatic we were as the night train pulled into Budapest Keleti station, ready and willing to take us to Romania. The 3-birth sleeper carriage was fantastic; we were like children, excitably claiming our bunks. Unbelievably we managed to sleep through the entire journey, bar the odd interruption from passport control as we crossed the border.
Transylvania greeted us at 8am with mist, smoky chimneys, and the distant spires of Sighisoara. Stepping from the train the cool and fresh air gave us a tremendous welcome. We made our way from the train station to the centre of town.
With the Sighisoara Citadel in the background I finally decided to contact the bank regarding my card troubles. My account had been passed to the fraud department due to the number of countries my card had been used in over the last few days. Within 10 minutes my account was accessible again, and as those crispy Romanian notes made contact with flesh, I could once again think about food!
Recalling Michael Palin’s New Europe we weaved our way through Sighisoara’s dusty backstreets and medieval staircases up past the Citadel in search of accommodation. We passed
the birthplace of Vlad the Impaler before being offered a cosy little apartment just behind it - what a location!
That evening was particularly creepy. We’d skipped tea earlier and so alone I decided to search Sighisoara for a late night takeaway. Such a place eluded me and so I found myself wandering the dark empty passages, climbing the lonely steps and finding it very difficult to shake the thought of a vampire attack from my head. Dracula’s hometown was an eerie place to be after dark and it was hard to ignore the presence of an age-old evil hanging in the air.
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