Going to interact with the core of Via Transilvanica was the goal, and I needed to leverage Cluj’s main airport to do that. I didn’t miss Cluj-Napoca, but I missed the train scheduled for Bistrița and was stuck in the second largest city in Romania for a few hours. A disaster! I didn’t have any expectations, comparing to my last visit in 2019, but neither did I knew it looks worse. I heard many “smart assess” mentioning stories about self driving buses, and other tokens for highly developed city. Missing the train, I knew from where to take the bus towards city center, and I hoped to clash with the local top civilization.
Bus experience from the airport to Cluj-Napoca city center
Instead, a filthy old bus came to pick us from the train station – at least the sync was good this time, and no idle time! – and buying a ticket was a burden: you couldn’t pay by phone, so lucky I had my card handy. In the meantime, manelele were bursting out loud, and a old man was insulting a younger guy, who kept a surprisingly calm and polite composure, for a small unimportant reason. It is something quite custom in buses around Romania, but many people would say in Cluj-Napoca it is different. It is not.
Key benchmark: Dornișoara
Walking thru the city is a disappointment. Beggars approach you instantly, the traffic is at crazy values, and the decayed train station is also a starting point for buses which loom 50 years old. This is how the so-called developed Cluj-Napoca looks like after 25 years under the same mayor. Zero progress. In the end, the old wracked train takes us to Bistrița, with the final destination Piatra Fântânele. I’ve wrote about this, so the main experience I want to share now is not linked to the heart of Via Transilvanica, where all started from, but it is about a place situated only 10 kilometers away from this route: Dornișoara.
No bear alert to Dornișoara, but how can you be sure?
A forest idyllic road links Piatra Fântânele to Dornișoara. We are asking our host if it is safe linked to the probability of encountering a bear, and he states it is not likely we meet one. But in Romania, nobody tracks the bears actually, and being a remote zone, of course, there is always a risk for a little playful bear to jump on the road, and usually it mom is following, and you know, this can be a problem. We needed to be noisy, for, maybe, five kilometers. To avoid any risk.
Small hopes, even smaller results when reaching Dornișoara
We were expecting a reward when we reach Dornișoara. Not much, we know it is a 260 inhabitants small location, but we also know it is a deserted train station there, which ceased operations to Poiana Stampei in 2011. A bit of history to explore. SO we thought. When arriving in Dornișoara, reality hit: a half deserted place, with a church on top of the wracked village, and apart from this only leftovers, some potentially being cleared further, when nobody’s watching. The impression was we won’t find any small shop to buy a water and a chocolate bar, at least.
No more train station visit because of aggressive loose dogs from Dornișoara
We did say that, in the end, the train station should have an interesting story to briefly explore in 15 minutes. Reasonable. But, as we approach the objective, a loose dog exits an open yard, and comes aggressively to us. We take a thick stick and wait. It backs off, but we need to pass the same place again, on our way back. We start thinking: what if there are more dogs in the next meters, we need to pass to go towards the train station? The likelihood is high, so we decide to abandon our innocent plan and go around.
Are we still wondering why we don’t have more foreign tourists…?
Fortunately, the dog doesn’t attack, and we don’t need the pole. We exit the village and run seven more kilometers back, from which 4.5 with the fear of encountering a bear. In the end, we were lucky, the animals preferred to keep their profiles low, as they do usually, and enjoy their forest, but the catch was more important. We then realized why Romania has virtually no foreign tourists, even if there are sublime natural places. People don’t match the landscape. And here is the border between historical regions of Transylvania and Bucovina. Nothing marks that, even if it is one of the gateways to Călimani Natural Park.
How can it be safe with so many loose dogs and thousands of bears?
Nobody really cares about any other than themselves, and this is usually happening in most of the places. We are mentioning Romania as a safe country, but in how many countries can you encounter dogs, bears or even wolfs that can attack you? How many countries in Europe have more road kills than Romania has? Statistics are available, no need to point them out again. Dornișoara is the supreme proof. You are not 100% safe outside your car in any place, so then enjoying the full potential is almost impossible.
Piatra Fântânele’s core, abandoned; the monastery, only breath of air for the place
This is why Via Transilvanica’s development is key, and one of the only ways for Romania to not disappear entirely from the cultural landscape. It is the last chance, trust me, I am a big traveler and I know what I am talking about. From here, the only way to dilute the impression would have been to enjoy more the true roots of Brem Stoker’s “Dracula”. But the Hotel Castle Dracula was shut down in 2022, so was the sky slope. The only reasonable thought I can click in is that the local monastery, with its huge cross is the only touristic objective which holds together anything standing in Piatra Fântânele. Otherwise, no reason to spend any time here as well. Nature, as said, is beautiful, but the side quests… hmmm…
Bistrița is worth seeing, if you want to pick a town from Transylvania
Then what? Before departing, we decided to go towards Bistrița to refresh my memories about the quite beautiful town, and so we did. It is not bad here, as Via Transilvanica also passes its territory, but it still remains a limited provincial small settlement with few to offer. But it is better than Cluj-Napoca, 100%, even if significantly smaller. If I would to recommend an authentic location, Bistrița would be a far better fit even comparing to Sibiu, Deva or Alba Iulia. I see it above these.
Train stations, like in Bucovina
Now, our time here is limited, and I prefer to leave some pictures to speak for themselves, as we have a Flixbus ride towards Cluj-Napoca airport. Having this option we avoid the city, thankfully, and also don’t see the wracked train stations on the way, like Apahida, Jucu, Bonțida or the likes, which look exactly like the ones described in Bucovina, sad, abandoned look a like and so on… It is a hard to watch reality, but it still remains a reality.
Flixbus stop… 750 meters from the terminal!
In the end, the surprise was even greater that the bus arrived in the Park & Ride near the airport in Cluj-Napoca. For those who don’t know, normally a shuttle bus stops at maximum 100 meters from a terminal. This location is 750 meters away from the terminal. 750 measured! From my apartment to the metro station there are 700 meters. That is the reality, this is why you can’t have tourism at the level the potential offers.
Via Transilvanica, Bucovina Ultra Rocks by UTMB, but what more?
Projects like Via Transilvanica, or even Bucovina Ultra Rocks by UTMB are very good promoters, but if we don’t carefully develop them, we will end with the same conclusion like on the Romanian sea side, Prahova Valley and even Colibița, a location belonging to Mureșenii Bârgăului, the first village after Piatra Fântânele, but which neither has anything really sustainable. Again, a sad reality, but… a reality.
