Travel in Transylvania

Transylvania, situated in the central part of Romania is the most cosmopolitan province: its inhabitants, are Romanians, Magyars, Gypsies, Germans, Jews and Ukrainians.

The landscape, picturesque and attractive for tourists, consists mainly in hills and mountains. Among them we have to mention the Apuseni Mountains which are a synthesis of the Romanian Carpathians.

The touristic potential of Transylvania is extremely rich - this is the ideal region where the pleasure tourism, rest, short holidays or different sports can be done. In the mountainous zone, the eye and heart are fascinated by the wonderful landscapes of Transylvania. The karst zone includes some caves of a great speleologic value. In the mountain forests the wild boars, bears, lynxes, deer and wolf still survive in their authentic environment. Also the flora counts numerous of endemic and unique species, especially in the karst zones of the mountains.

Transylvania offers a hospitable home to all its guests who want to see, to feel the nature and peoples in an exceptional tourist region confirmed as such by the ones who visited it. The folk customs and traditions are a point of interest both for Romanian and foreign tourists. Among them we have to mention the Fair of Girls on the on the Gaina Mountain organized every year on about July, 20th (Sf. Ilie).

Points of tourist interest are also museums and hundreds of architectural monuments in all European styles from the Gothic, baroque and Renaissance to the Secession and modern ones. There are old architectural piles of buildings which are relevant to the history and civilization of the region. Among them there are the fortified Transylvanian Saxon churches which are a characteristic defining phenomenon for the civilization and culture of Transylvania.

Dracula's Land, Transylvania is tiring in history and legends; it has preserved an enormous treasure of folklore and popular art, a land of matchless underground wealth, a land that has for centuries bred tough, industrious people, with beautiful faces, garments, and unrivaled hospitality.

The Merry Cemetery from Sapanta

It is quite fascinating to witness the courage of those who do not fear death! Fascinating for the trust that they place in God, their faith in a happy After Life, and the power that they gain upon life when they laugh in the face of death. One of the very few places in this world where this bold attitude is truly represented is Sapanta village, in Maramures. It even boasts the clever and suggestive name: the Merry Cemetery.

The colored crosses, painted in a popular manner and comprising many symbols, were conceived by Stan Patras, a local craftsman who made the first one in 1935. For 50 years the master and his apprentices transformed oak wood into beautiful crosses that still enchant visitors. But the artist didn’t stop there. Instead, he took care that every cross should have an “epitaph”: a short poem written in the first person, and full of archaic and regional words. These epitaphs made for an ironical testimony for the life of the deceased. Lines like „Here is my place to rest/Stan Ion was my name/Since I was a little one/I preferred to stay at home/Something more I did enjoy/Drinking brandy and be joy” are written on all of the crosses from this cemetery. Their continuity and beauty transforms the place into a real museum.

Situated at 18 km away from Sighetu Marmatiei, the Merry Cemetery is a unique and original place that should be on every traveler’s itinerary.

THE MAIDEN FAIR ON THE GAINA MOUNTAIN THE LEGEND

Somewhere, a long time ago, both people and gods were sharing the sky and the land, the light and the darkness, the joy and the pain.
That is why, up there, at the foot of the clouds, below the holy tear of the sunrays, rolled like a cup of gems over the face of the Mountain which is guarding a bunch of wooden, bricked and stoned houses, lived the “mountaineers”, living pillars of the blue sky wrapping in snow its hidden paths, the roads, the valleys, the woods, with their small horses. There, a small hen had its shelter, making golden eggs and all the “mountaineers” were wondering and wondering and they started to protect her and to devote to thoughts , deeds and songs.
For their golden egg hen they could kill and she was safe from one season to another. Only once a year the “mountaineers” could see her face, her lonely and enigmatical image with her wings open over the vastness.
On the day of the St. Ilie the “mountaineers” were gathering like the rivers in the same bed to tell each other their problems, their hopes and dreams, to offer their children a chance to meet, to fall in love and to propose their hearts to join forever, in marriage. The hen used to descend from her unseen shelter placed on the top of the Mountain. She used to approach the young ones and waving her wings ones she turned into a charming goddess which was approaching the newly married couples with a golden egg in her hands, offering it for happiness and long life. Both people and Mountain were applauding, praying and giving thanks. In the sound of their applause the goddess raised her hands to the sky and turned back into a Hen, hiding herself from the mortals eyes. So the seasons found them, thus starting a habit of faith and love. That’s why, that proud mountain who’s peaks are covered with white clouds, in a height of more then 1500 m was named and forever will be, “The Gaina Mountain”.
But the peace, quite and harmony was broken by thoughtless eyes who have forever been trying to discover the nest of the golden Hen and to steal her golden eggs. And finally, with evil’s help, they succeeded. The hen had left her shelter for another festival, on the shoulder of another mountain, having as a purpose the peace of mind of the inhabitants, and some unexpected visitors together with that ruthless man violently searching the nest took the eggs, hid them under his shirt and ran away.
Coming back home and discovering the theft, the goddess was very unhappy and with bitter heart she decided to leave the place forever. She rose her hands high up in the sky, turned into a hen and flew, unseen, to another mountain. And that mountain was at Rosia Montana.
The people mourned her, bagged her to go back to them but the miracle did not happened. Gaina mountain remained behind with barren peaks, haunted by rains, wild winds and snows, by tears and legends. People come to meet the mountain as often as they can, hoping they will be able to tame, to quench its patience, harmony and longing.
They say, the thief that had stolen the eggs fell into a deep strait and the eggs were lost into the depth. They become springs of water or torrents – the crack can be seen today covered by clouds. The Apuseni Mountains and the people living there have been suffering ever since.