Luckily we did actually manage to find our stop OK. I had a rough idea that it was coming up because I caught a glimpse of its medieval citadel through the train window and secondly because Sighisoara turned out to be one of the only stations we came across that actually had a station sign.
We arrived in Sighisoara with no accommodation booked and only the Rough Guide to direct us. Most of the details in the Rough Guide discuss the sites within the Citadel so all we had to do was get to the Citadel and we figured we would be home and dry. As we left the station we were delighted to see a big blue tourist information sign across the road. However when I entered all I found was an empty restaurant. Somewhat confused I walked back out again and we stood outside for 5 minutes or so wondering which way to go. Eventually who I assumed was the restaurant owner popped his head out asked if we were looking for food or information. We apologetically advised we wanted info and he helpfully gave directions to get to the Citadel (It seems a lot of people in Romania like to use the Tourist Info sign whilst not really being a Tourist Information Office. Never the less once he came out he was really helpful.). Ten minutes later after traversing many pot holes and road works we were inside the Citadel and knocked on a nondescript green door which we knew to be a highly recommended hostel (Lonely Planet Guide).
We knocked for some time but there was no answer. As we were doing so a little Romanian girl popped her head over a neighbouring fence and asked perfectly if we spoke English before telling us that she also had a room. We politely said we wanted to stay at this hostel but if we had problems we may stay with them (doing the typically British thing of not trusting anyone). There had still been no answer at the door so we decided to try the handle and it opened into a very dark corridor. There were still no signs that the place was indeed a hostel and we opted to stand in the door way shouting hello rather than going in. Eventually a sweet old lady came along out of the dark and advised us that she had no rooms left available. Whilst we were a bit disappointed (the hostel had been given a great write up) we weren't too panicked as there were other hostels recommended in the book.
We turned on our heels and headed away from the house to go to another hostel we had passed and suddenly the little Romanian girl who had popped over the fence was along side us just asking if we would at least look at the room. She also had a leaflet with her this time giving a few details. Cautiously after a quick glance at each other we decided we would go and have a look. She took us back to her place and showed us a gorgeous little self contained apartment with private facilities, and even better for Nina at least there were cats everywhere (nice ones not the usual vermin) including two kittens. After that we didn't take too much convincing and the girl's mother was along shortly to take payment. After popping our bags down and freshening up a little we headed back toward the centre of the Citadel to see what we could find.
With the Citadel itself there are dozens of little cafe restaurants and many souvenir shops, but all of these were tastefully decorated so that the true rustic medieval feel of the town remained. The roads were either cobble stones or gravel tracks and around the town there were a few signs apologising for the road works that were going on at almost every corner. Whilst it meant you had to watch where you stepped (not being a nanny state like the UK, people are expected to use their eyes to see that there is a hole in the path rather than have it pointed out to them by a dozen signs) it did not cause any inconvenience what-so-ever.
We spent the first day just wondering around the citadel diving into little side streets when we found them and nipping into the various shops. We both really really loved the citadel and it took away some of the disappointment that we had felt at Bran. Whilst being really nice and friendly there was still an overriding sense that the place did have quite a sinister connection which they really liked to exploit (the house where Vlad Tepes lived for an early part of his life is now a restaurant called Casa Dracula). In the centre of the Citadel is a small square where there are four or five little drinks stands and dozens of tables (we could imagine it being really vibrant in the heat of summer), but being wrapped up nice and warm we decided to sit there for a drink and just chill for a while.After a few minutes we heard some familiar London voices and turned round to see the lads we had met at the previous hostel in Brasov. They joined us for a drink before heading off to a restaurant for some grub and Nina and I headed back to our room to change. We all made plans to meet up later in the evening to sample the local night life. Turns out there isn't really a night life as such. However within the city walls there is a club which Nina spotted earlier in the day so we all decided to head there. Listening through the heavy door all we could hear was a television, and unsure as to whether we about to crash some ones front room cinema or whatever we cautiously edged through the slightly ajar door. Inside was a bar and about a dozen or so locals watching Pet Detective Two dubbed into Romanian (we all laughed at the same points so they obviously made a good job). To the right of the bar was a pool room and basically that was our hide away for the next 5 hours or so. The London lads did advise us they were pretty bad at pool as did we. Turns out they were worse and at the end of a very enjoyable evening we wished them well on the rest of their trip and headed back to the hostel.
The following day we had to move rooms and the lady had advised us they only had a room for one night. However she had helpfully spoken to one of her friends who also had a room and we were taken to an equally nice apartment behind one of the shops and this was where we spent our final night in Sighisoara. We headed back into the the centre and decided to visit the 3 museums that the Citadel housed. The first was a 3 room exhibit that had an impressive collection of various medieval weapons with the occasional english translation. The second one we visited was the clock tower museum, which displayed a range of different articles from furniture to weapons and finally at the top the workings behind the clock itself. We got to the top at about 10 minutes to 2 and decided to hang around until the hour mark to see what went on in the workings when the hands moved and the bells chimed. As it got nearer and nearer to the hour mark the anticipation built and built to uncontainable levels and then.....not much really - a few cogs turned a bit more and a bell rang twice (ah well). Making our way back down the extremely creaky stairwell we knew there was only one museum left to hit and this was the one we were most excited about, The Torture Museum.
We found the museum but were gutted to find that it was shut, so we hung around for a while before deciding to grab a drink and head back in an hour or so. So an hour later we went back to the museum door and it was still shut. Eventually Nina plucked up the courage to go and ask the woman form the medieval museum if it was to open at all today. She made a quick phone call before telling us 'yes it opens now'. We nipped back round the corner and to our delight the museum was now open. We paid, entered and found ourselves in a single room with a stretched ladder, which had a note attached advising it was a rack, a hangman noose, some chains, a foot torture thingy and hand torture thingy. Having paid out the entrance fee and being stuck for much to do due to the fact that the relentless rain had found us again we stretched our time in the museum out as long as possible, but after 5 minutes decided to head out, however having paid the equivalent of 20p each - we saw the funny side.
That evening we decided to head to Casa Dracula for a bite to eat. The restaurant was excellently decorated. In the corners were full armour sets, there were mock chandeliers, pictures of Vlad Tepes and very scary looking waiters (although I think that was just coincidence, still it added to the atmosphere). We then proceeded to have probably the worst meal on our travels thus far complete with a relatively raw pork chop (reminded me of the raw chicken Kiev incident back home in Kingston). The following day it was time to head away from Sighisoara. We had really enjoyed being there, the place is tiny and there is not much to do but it was an excellent place to chill out and just wonder for a couple of days. We booked our train tickets to Bucharest and 30 minutes later were on our way.Arriving in Bucharest we found ourselves in a massive station with pretty much nothing by way of signage. However eventually we found the exit and immediately regretted finding it and secondly loved the fact that we had only decided to stay one night. The station seemed to be pretty much surrounded by glue sniffers and alcoholics. Wanting to get away from the station vicinity as quickly as possible we found our bearings and headed in the general direction of where we believe a highly recommended hostel (Funky Chicken) was. After several wrong turnings, what turned out to be around a 2 km stroll and quickly descending darkness we found the hostel only to be told that they had no beds, but she could recommend another hostel right next to the station (Doh!).
We headed back to the station and once again managed to get lost a few times, eventually a local lad came up to us and asked if we were looking for Villa 11 (this was the hostel that had been recommended). Having grown very tired and cold we didn't really bother with the cautious typical English approach of saying we were fine and nodded enthusiastically. The lad said he'd take us there for $5. Sadly I only had Euros so I gave him 5 of those and he took us to the hostel the long way. Basically he had caught us just before the turning for the hostel, we were probably 20 steps away, and led us around the block ( we only discovered this later when we went to grab some food, again we saw the funny side of this and had to admire the guy's skills). The Villa 11 was a pretty unwelcoming hostel a long shot from the previous places we had stayed, but we didn't care it was just a bed for the night that we wanted and we knew we were definitely getting out of Bucharest the following day.
The following morning we decided the first trip would be to find the international train ticket office. We found this and within about 30 minutes had our tickets to Sofia booked for about 30 quid each, again we had booked a sleeper service and this time we were really looking forward to it. Sadly though the train was not until 19:39 and it was only 10 am. Not wanting to venture too far we decided to try and find a locally advertised shopping mall and waste away as much time there as possible. Turned out it wasn't really necessary as we spent about 2 and half hours trying to find that whilst also try to find a nearby Ikea (desperate times, desperate measures and all that). Eventually we found a nice restaurant serving traditional American cuisine (that's right McDonalds) and killed a bit of time there and at a nearby Internet cafe before stocking up on crisps and vodka for the 11 hours night time journey ahead.
We spent the first few hours of our train journey playing cards and sipping on Vodka and Fanta. We knew sleeping would be pointless as passport control would be along at some point as we crossed the Danube into Bulgaria. The train guard obviously had more respect for his trains doors and so ensured everyone's were open before the passport guys boarded the train (wishing to avoid the same door splintering action of the Budapest - Brasov trip). Turns out passport control between Romania and Bulgaria is pretty stringent and we were stopped on both sides of the border for a good hour and a half each.
We had been warned that finding your way around Bulgaria is a whole different kettle of fish to anywhere else we had already been due to the fact that they seem to use the wingdings font as their alphabet. Of course we shrugged that warning off, after all we had a hostel booked and our Lonely Planet book to give us directions to it. Whoops!!!
TTFN
Daz
