I drummed my fingers absentmindedly on the outside of my ONYX suitcase, lost in thought, before unzipping the bone coloured case and peeling it apart to sniff the interior deeply. Tom was right: it now only smelled of odour remover instead of cat urine. Threads friends for the win with the tip to use enzyme cleaners.
He’d laughed when I explained for this trip I’d bought a cover for my suitcase. Until I pointed out we couldn’t predict what our four footed house tyrant would target next, and Hobbes had a taste for marking bags this season.
The night before I flew to Albania last month, Hobbes, with his bladder infection, had completely soaked half the interior of my new suitcase, the first one I’d bought just for myself with money I’d earned. I’d made do on that trip instead with two carry-on size suitcases and a prayer the cleaners would work their magic, but it was less than ideal.
Travel is always less than ideal. Inconvenient even. But that is why I like it.
This time, I was headed to Transylvania. I already had decided to spread my trips out less than once a month, but I did it begrudgingly. I knew I would have more time to plan my travel, allow my body to recover, and to better set my house in order if I spaced the trips out just a bit more. But I also fought it because I was tired. I was tired of hearing other people question why I would be travelling like this.
Sometimes, the expectation to stay demurely at home raising children and keeping house is still presented as the only real work for women.
I am a respectful, decisive, experienced, immigrant mother of faith.
I never claimed to be demure.
Photography is my art, and my work.
I’m here to see.
And that is precisely what I reminded myself of, as I panicked before departure that I did not yet have a European credit card in my name.
Tom loaded my suitcase into the trunk of the car and reassured me it would all work out on the other side, when I went to pick up my car that evening in Romania. Tom travels often for his work, so I trusted him and sat myself comfortably in the front passenger seat.
Across Eindhoven, the skies were low as rain fell. October in the Netherlands tends to do that.
I hoped it didn’t bode anything for my trip.
Both of us not quite willing to part until we had to, Tom helped me to check my suitcase in before hugging me tightly one last time. October was the month of several trips for him, too, so our time together would be precious.
Then, he headed towards the Eindhoven Airport doors back to the car park, and I went through security.
Eindhoven Airport was a small airport, bursting at the seams with flights and nationalities right before it closed for a fuller renovation in 2027. This would be my last journey through before that renovation, and I couldn’t help noticing how every single gate was overfull with people waiting.
I’d also brought an empty water bottle to avoid paying airport prices, but could not find a water tap anywhere. Allergic to inquiring for help at one of the overtaxed restaurants, I decided instead to check what gate was leaving next, and to scooch over there and snag a seat as people left to board.
I’d arrived with time to spare, and so I sat to people watch until my gate was announced twenty minutes before departure time.
I had not bought the priority Wizz tickets. I did not need to fly with three pieces of luggage, and I’d seen in my previous trip that the priority boarding bought little when it came to actually boarding first. Besides, waiting seated until the line was short and the plane was actually boarding seemed to be a better plan than standing in the rain outside. Others around me shared my idea. Waiting seated reduced my boarding stress.
When I was walking down the aisle of the plane, though, that stress jumped into my throat again. A man was already seated in my chair by the window. I wondered briefly if my seat had been double booked, like I’d seen on the flight to Albania. But instead I decided to just politely let the man know it was my seat. Both he and the man seated on the end of my row moved so that I could take my window seat.
We talked briefly about the price of water at the airport, and then fell into a comfortable sleep after lifting off.
About an hour later, I awoke to the realisation that Romania is in a time zone an hour ahead of Western Europe. That meant that my reservation for my car, and even my hotel check-in, would ostensibly be an hour later. This opened up a bit more anxiety for me, but I figured they were navigable challenges.
As we approached the runway over Cluj, the last of the sun was fading from the western horizon. This journey would begin in the dark.
We disembarked into waiting busses, which took us to the Schengen entrance of the airport. After entering, we were immediately met with our luggage circling on belts. No complaints here.
After exiting with nothing to declare, I saw the desk for my car rental pick up. There was already a line, so I went and stood as the third person in it.
And I stood, and I stood, and I stood.
The minutes ticked away as the other clients discussed with the agency something in words I did not know. Eventually, the first couple stood aside and the second person in line quickly completed his checkout. The first couple was still standing when I approached the counter.
Finding my reservation wasn’t hard, but when I went to complete the transaction, my card was denied. I tried another card, which was also denied. The first couple said this was the problem they were having, too.
I quickly messaged Tom, who set about looking for any blocks from travel, and the agency decided to enter our information manually after consulting with their headquarters.
The manual transactions went through without a problem, both for me and for the other couple. Turns out, the problem was with their card reader and not with either of our cards after all. We all walked out as a group into the dark Romanian night to the car park, and to our waiting rentals.
First, my car. The Budget car rental man pointed out to me that my car already had dents on the hood and they knew that. He held his flashlight so that I could make a video of the whole exterior of the car, documenting its condition upon pickup. Then he said to meet him at the barrier to the car park and I would be on my way.
I set my destination for the address of the accommodation in neighbouring Turda. It was about an hour drive. Thankfully, the hotel had sent me a welcome and instructions earlier by text to give me the exact instructions with photos for the parking. Not only that, I just needed the key code to my room and I could check myself in on arrival.
So I set out into the night, satnav as guide. This trip, I’d brought a phone holder that mounts with a silicone suction cup to the dashboard. So even though my Puma had Apple CarPlay, I would not have to worry about my phone rolling around the centre console of the car.
Another car and I set out east from the airport. We made good time, but I soon noticed every car headed towards us was flashing its lights at the car in front of me. I checked around my dashboard and discovered both of our cars were travelling with the high beam headlights on. I made sure to turn mine off.
And from there, like beads on a string, we made our way down the winding string of road, led only by the light immediately before us. I had a sense of being in an area with gorges and hills of presence, but could not see a bit of the topography not lit immediately by my headlights. Even more, the Puma had opinions. If it thought I was leaning too far into one side of the lane or the other, it would push me back. Presently, it also began to warn me about driver fatigue, which I found ironic because I was very alert driving that black road in a new country. Nothing could make me more alert than that.
With time, I reached the outskirts of Turda and made my way to the centre, where the accommodation was. The instructions I’d received earlier were a huge help. Once I found the gate to the parking, I called the phone number listed and it rolled back automatically. Lights lit the parking lot well, and I, shrugging my backpack over my shoulders and pulling my suitcase, made my way inside.
Key code entered, and the lock opened to reveal my room’s keys. It reminded me of the lockbox my grandparents used to have by their front door, and the code there we all knew by heart.
At first, I had to figure out which key fit the lock, and how. My room key had to be put in at a 90º angle to what I was used to. Then the door swept open, and I was met with a tidy little apartment complete with kitchen.
“This will do very nicely,” I thought to myself as I entered the room, exhausted. Looking around, I noticed cat mugs and that I had a view over the town square. I sent a couple photos to Tom, letting him know I’d arrived safely, filled my Stanley cup with electrolytes, and went to bed. The next day would start early with a visit to the salt mines in Turda. I smiled to myself. First day done.
Know before you go
Romania is an hour ahead of the Netherlands (and most of Western Europe). Factor it into pickup and check-in times.
If you are visiting the interior of Romania, find an ATM and take cash.
When an ATM or card machine offers to charge you in euros, decline and choose lei. It saves you money.
Revolut is also usually a reliable way to make card transactions in the local currency. I only use it for travel and only top up the card when I’m travelling.
I was unable to download any parking apps to pay for parking, so carry the local currency.
A lot of the public toilets require a small payment to use, around 2 lei, so keep some change on hand.
Many toilets cannot handle flushed toilet paper, so put your used toilet paper in the waste bin provided by the toilet.
Download Romanian on Google Translate before you go so that you can communicate with people who don’t speak your language.
Have WhatsApp and mobile data ready. Many hosts communicate that way. EU numbers roam free in Romania; non-EU visitors may want an eSIM.
Not all information listed on Booking.com is accurate. Always try to double check your accommodation and read other reviews.
Always carry a credit card in the driver’s name to avoid any possible complications when you pick up your car.
When you pick up your rental, film a slow walk around the car, including existing dents and scratches, before you drive off.
Give yourself extra drive time to get to destinations as the road conditions may not be reflected on Google Maps.
Shops listed online may have closed or moved, so be ready to wander.
Speed limits are generally 50 km/h in towns, 90 km/h on smaller roads and 130 km/h on motorways, but local drivers often go faster and will tailgate or overtake. Drive at a pace you’re comfortable with and let them pass when it’s safe.
Watch for slow traffic. Horse carts, livestock and tractors are common on village roads, especially around Viscri.
The Details
Turda Accommodation: Belle View Apart Hotel, nr.9A, Piața 1 Decembrie 1918, 401130 Turda, Romania
Viscri Accommodation: Facilitati cazare Raluca, 335W+9X Viscri, Romania
Cluj Accommodation: Cashmere Apartment, Strada Traian Vuia 194 37, 400394 Cluj-Napoca, Romania
My Church: Biserica lui Isus Hristos a Sfinților din Zilele din Urmă, Str. Artur Leiter 2, 500446 Brașov, Romania
Viscri Fortified Church: Evanghelic C.A. Fortified Church Viscri, Bisericii Nr. 47 Com. Bunești, 507039 Viscri, Romania
Viscri “Holy Trinity” Orthodox Church: Biserica "Sfânta Treime" și "Sf. Cuv. Mc. Efrem cel Nou”, Str Principala nr 112, 507039 Viscri, Romania
Car Rental: Budget, Cluj „Avram Iancu” International Airport, Strada Traian Vuia, incinta, 400397 Cluj-Napoca, Romania
Fortress: Rupea Citadel, Strada Cetății, 505500 Rupea, Romania
ATM: BCR, Str. Republicii 107, 505500 Rupea, Romania
Groceries: Penny, Str. Republicii 266, 505500 Rupea, Romania
Parking: Parcare Autoturisme si Autocare, 6QCR+R2 Sighișoara, Romania
Antiques: Antique & vintage, Strada Zidul Cetăţii 11, 545400 Sighișoara, Romania
The Sound
I meant to start a fresh playlist for this trip, but the old one wouldn’t let me go. So Albania’s soundtrack travelled on to Romania, and grew along the way. Everything from track 90 onward belongs to this chapter.
