Mini Travel Guides

Ghelinta, a tiny town in deepest Transylvania, is home to a church whose amazing interior wall paintings look almost as fresh as when they were first put there, six or seven centuries ago. What’s more amazing is that these frescos had been entirely forgotten for untold years until being rediscovered in 1882, thus saving the whole building from scheduled demolition.

Although located in Romania, the town is almost entirely Hungarian speaking and is known as Gelence in that language. The church is dedicated to St Imre, a Hungarian prince who died young, in 1031, before he could inherit the king’s throne. But it’s another Hungarian royal, a king named Laszlo I, who is the subject of some of the finest paintings inside.

Two horizontal series of pictures adorn the church’s north interior wall. The upper one of these, dating from roughly 1330, depicts a legend from Laszlo’s time as ruler and defender of the Hungarian kingdom, of which this area used to be a part. He was celebrated, among other things, for repelling an attempted invasion by a nomadic warlike people named the Cumans during the 1080s. In these pictures, he is seen catching and punishing a Cuman who kidnapped a young Hungarian woman and galloped away with her on horseback. Laszlo can be seen stabbing the Cuman with a sword. He then encourages the woman to push the Cuman from the horse. Next, the two men are seen wrestling. In the final frame, Laszlo grabs the Cuman’s hair and the woman holds a sword and smites him.

Laszlo is believed to have something to do with the fact that there are so many Hungarian speakers in this area. He was thought to have been the first ruler to post Hungarian speakers to this region to defend what was, at the time, the eastern frontier of his kingdom.

Right below his pictures is another series of paintings which date from 1419. They show the more famous story of the Passion – the successive stages Jesus is supposed to have gone through, from his Last Supper, via his judgment by Pontius Pilate, to his Crucifixion.

Besides those two picture stories, many other pictures are painted onto the church’s inner walls, mostly showing saints’ lives and scenes from the Bible.
The church is a 13th century construction, though it went through several modifications in ensuing centuries. It’s surrounded by a protective wall with its main gate passing through a bell tower. An 1802 earthquake damaged the building, and in 1858 it stopped operating as a church because it seemed in danger of collapsing.

If you were hoping to find something a little older, take a look at the baptismal font. It is a millennium old, having been used in the original church building that stood on this spot before the present one was erected. Relative youngsters among the church’s fittings are its ceiling, consisting of painted wooden cassettes that were installed in 1628, and the 1766 organ gallery.

The church also has a very eye-catching altarpiece, at the center of which is a secret place for storing the communion host. It is a rotating compartment designed to prevent the host from being stolen by burglars. The church was broken into on five different occasions over its lifetime. Look to the left of the altarpiece and there is another unit for storage of holy objects, with strange characters written on it. These are Hungarian runes, in which the language was written before the adoption of the Latin alphabet. Reading right to left, the characters spell out the year this storage place was created: 1503.

Ghelinta is on road 121F and is about 40 miles northwest from the major city of Brasov.

Written by and Photos by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

The Szekely area of Romania is unique and unpredictable, in terms of both its population and its natural environment. It’s the most densely populated Hungarian-speaking part of the Transylvania region, despite being the furthest away from today’s Hungary. It’s also a volcanic area full of springs, bubbling mud, and mineral deposits.

The Szekelys are a people who were sent in the 13th century to defend what was then Hungary’s eastern frontier. Today they number about 670,000, spread across the counties known (in Romanian and in Hungarian) as Harghita/Hargita, Covasna/Kovaszna and Mures/Maros. They remain a rural people, living in lands that are under deep snow in winter, when cold air gets trapped among the mountains. Many live from production of timber, maize, potatoes, beverages and garments, or from mining. They frequently travel by horse cart, and keep sheep and geese that freely graze around the villages. Wilder denizens of the area include wolves, bears, stags and lynx.

A famous feature of Szekely houses is a carved wood gate with two sections, one big enough for a horse cart and one for people to walk through. The gates are then topped with a narrow roof. To this day these gates continue to be produced, while some have remained in use from as far back as the 18th century. They are carved or painted in decorative patterns featuring geometric shapes, moons, stars, tulips – ancient Szekely symbols. Sometimes there’s a dovecot on top. In some localities, Szekelys make pottery, woven garments, wickerwork and painted wooden furniture, including colourful dowry chests, in the time-honored fashion.

A good place to see such things is the two-hectare ethnographic museum in Cernatu de Jos/Alsocsernaton, established in 1973. Here you can also see wooden pillars used as grave markers with carved geometric forms conveying information on the deceased person.

The Szekely land is home to arguably Romania’s best beer, the smooth, light, fruity Ciuc. It also boasts fine mineral waters, including mild-tasting Borsec, famous since medieval times. It is rich in magnesium, calcium and sodium, as well as the rather salty Harghita. In addition, Szekelys make great palinka, a strong spirit cooked from fruit. The town of Zetea/Zetelaka is widely revered for its production of this tipple.

There is not really a Szekely capital, because when a city gets too large, it loses that Szekely atmosphere. Targu Mures/Marosvasarhely (pop. 145,000) lost the title long ago, and even the old market town of Miercurea Ciuc/Csikszereda (42,000) is being challenged now by Odorheiu Secuiesc/Székelyudvarhely (37,000).

Even in a populated town, you’re never far from the wild outdoors. On the main square of the town of Covasna is a bubbling patch of soil called “Hell’s mud.” This town is called “town of 1,000 springs,” but that estimate is rather conservative. The town of Sovata/Szovata has grown up as a health tourism center based on the salty, bearskin-shaped Lacul Ursu/Medve-to (“bear lake”), probably the world’s largest heliothermic lake. That means its great warmth stems from solar energy trapped within its differing layers: a few feet of fresh water on top, insulating the lower layers that are heavy with salt, magnesium and calcium.

No one is sure where the Szekelys came from and whether they share an origin with the regular Hungarians or Magyars. Starting in the 15th century, Transylvania had a caste system in which Szekelys, along with Magyars and Germans, were the “Three Nations,” but this implied less an ethnic than a functional division. The Szekelys’ function was to be warriors.

Deeply rooted to their homes today, Szekelys used to be extremely mobile. They lived all over Transylvania before settling in their present haunts, moving ever eastward to defend Hungary’s border as it expanded. Three of the administrative regions or “seats” they formed – Kezdi, Orbai and Sepsi – were named after places further west where they were previously based.

In some ways, the Szekelys are the most Hungarian of Hungarians. In the north of their area at least, they remain predominantly Catholic while many Transylvanian Hungarians have converted to Calvinism or Unitarianism. They speak with antiquated accents, which even vary from one part of the Szekely land to another. They were slow to adopt the Latin alphabet in place of the traditional Hungarian runes. A famous runic panel on the ceiling of the church in Inlaceni/Enlaka bears the name of its craftsman, Gyorgy Muzsnai.

Szekelys were loyal subjects of the old kingdom of Hungary, building fortified towns to defend against invasions by Tatars and the like. From the middle of the 16th century, though, they were less acquiescent subjects of an independent Transylvania ruled by Magyar aristocrats. They started having to pay taxes, faced limits on their autonomy, and fought a battle in 1567 to prevent being converted to Protestantism. That event has been commemorated every year since then, with a Whitsun pilgrimage to Sumuleu Ciuc/Csiksomlyo. Today, attracting up to 400,000 people from across Europe, it culminates with an open-air mass.

In 1599, the Szekelys went so far as to ally with Mihai Viteazul, a Wallachian prince, who for one year held Transylvania. Effectively, they were supporting Mihai’s allies, the Austrians, against the Transylvanian leaders and their Ottoman allies. This conflict led to the oddity of the Szekelytamadt  (“Szekely-attacked”) fortress in Odorheiu Secuiesc. First erected in 1492 to protect locals, its reinforcement by the prince of Transylvania during the 1560s was more intended to keep the Szekelys in check. The fortress was attacked in 1599 by the town’s inhabitants working together with Mihai’s forces.

The area later joined the Habsburg empire, at which point many towns were rapidly built up and renovated. That accounts for today’s proliferation of Baroque urban architecture. But in the later 18th century, Szekelys faced off against Habsburg attempts to make the empire’s provinces more uniform. Their devastating defeat at the hands of imperial forces at Ciceu/Csikcsicso in 1764 remains part of the Szekelys’ folklore. It prompted some to migrate eastward to Moldavia: the legendary csango or “wanderer” people.

The Szekelys now live well within the post-World War I borders of Romania, although during World War II they briefly rejoined a sovereign Hungary for the first time in three-and-half centuries, when their lands were included in a slice of northern Transylvania attached to that country. Since the fall of communism, some Szekelys have moved to modern-day Hungary, where they work in factories and send money home. But they are sometimes received superciliously there, like country cousins. There’s a joke that relocating to Budapest is the fastest way for a Szekely to turn into a Romanian.

For a great place to stay in Szekely land, look no further than Zabala/Zabola, where a 17th-19th century aristocratic castle with a 16-hectare landscaped garden has been returned to its dynasty after decades of nationalization. The family converted it into a delightful hotel that meets the highest international standards.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Visitors to Sighisoara, Romania, one of the most evocative Gothic cities in Transylvania (central-western Romania), might not be surprised when they come across a statue of Dracula and learn that the city is his birthplace. With its medieval walled city center on top of a hill, the place seems to have just the atmosphere you’d associate with the bloodsucking aristocrat. Read more about Dracula

Photo by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Balvanyos, a town in the Transylvania region of Romania, is a place where you’ll find an ancient citadel shrouded in mystery, highly potent mineral springs, and strong-smelling caves that can either kill or cure you.

About 1,000 meters above sea level in a mountainous region, the town is built on spa tourism, which has grown up around its three important springs. Its best hotel is the three-star Best Western, which was constructed on the site where a sanatorium used to stand. The hotel runs rest cure programs and has its own spa and sauna.

Just to the left (when you face it) of the Best Western, a path that is marked out by signs bearing blue dots leads you on a five-minute walk toward those fascinating caves. It won’t be long before you start to sniff the sulphurous gas that emanates from the ground, bearing testimony to an eruption that happened in this volcanic area 2 million years earlier.

The path takes you to the cave named Pucios in Romanian, or Budos in the Hungarian language spoken by many local residents. Both words mean “stinky.” The cave, which stretches to a length of 14 meters, has walls covered with deposits that create a bright yellow coat, from the bottom up to about one meter above the ground. From the cave’s floor, 723,000 cubic meters of the gases carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide rise up every year.

The cave is a mofetta, meaning that people sit down and “bathe” in the warming gas almost as if it were a water spring. The cave is said to help cure headaches, rheumatism, eye and skin illnesses, and it even gets prescribed in medical treatment courses. At one time, moisture from its walls was gathered and utilized as an ointment. Take off silver jewelry before entering the cave, unless you want to come out with yellow jewelry.

The height of the yellow coating on the wall is the height that the gases reach. It’s not safe to dip your head lower than that. On a cold day, lower air pressure makes the gas rise a bit higher. To be sure, hold up a match or cigarette lighter and slowly lower it. The flame will suddenly go out when it reaches the top of the gas.

Follow that blue dot trail a bit further to find the so-called Birds’ Cemetery. This is a hollow where dead wild creatures are often found, suffocated by the gas.  Also nearby is a cave named Pestera Ucigasul (Romanian) or Gyilkos Barlang (Hungarian). The name in both languages means “killer cave,” and that indeed is what can happen to you if you spend too long in the thick, choking gases.

On top of a hill in Balvanyos is a ruined 13th-century castle complex. It’s assumed that pre-Christian local inhabitants built this, though there are local legends claiming that fairies or giants constructed it. There is also a tale claiming that a boy who lived in the complex was so smitten with a girl from nearby Turia, who was a Christian, that he himself adopted Christianity, resulting in the whole of Balvanyos being Christianized. The hilltop ruins are known in Romanian as “Cetatile Paganilor” (the Citadels of the Pagans).

The town’s name is a Hungarian word literally meaning “idolatrous.” Although many Transylvanian towns have Hungarian names, what’s slightly unusual about this one is that its Romanian name is the same, rather than being a translation or a phonetic imitation of the Hungarian.  Balvanyos has also given its name to an annual car rally. The cars race along the hilly and winding road linking Balvanyos to the nearby town of Bixad.

Close to the major cities of Brasov, Targu Mures and Bacau, Balvanyos is on road 113.

Hunedoara, Romania, is the location of an amazingly well-preserved Gothic castle that looks as if it dropped out of some fairytale. With a drawbridge, a moat, pointy towers, colonnades and gargoyles, all it lacks is a resident dragon. It seems fitting that it is located in the evocative region of Romania known as Transylvania. Read more about Hunedoara Castle

Photo by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

In the eastern part of Transylvania, a region of Romania, are two unusual geographical features that are results of the volcanic nature of this area’s geology. While one of them – Saint Anna Lake -is slowly changing, the other – Mohos Lake- is an example of what it is going to turn into.

Lake Saint Anna (Lacul Sfanta Ana) is a blue-green colored, very calm and beautiful lake formed in an exploded crater 946 meters above sea level. The crater was the result of an eruption 15 millennia ago. The lake is framed by sharply sloping rock coated with coniferous forest, and has an area of about 21 hectares. It never gets beyond 8.3 meters deep, and its average depth is about 4 meters.

All sorts of legends and traditions have built up around this lake. Although it is actually filled exclusively with rain and melting snow, and is not connected to other bodies of water, there’s a persistent legend that it has a subterranean link to some sea.

On the day of Saint Anna (July 26), the lake is the site of a big procession and a mass held by the Roman Catholics who make up the majority of the local population. The center of this event is the chapel dedicated to the Saint, which sits at the lake’s side. In pre-Christian days, the spot where the chapel stands is said to have been the site of pagan sacrifices. A more worldly tradition associated with the lake is camping. Locals, especially young people, love to descend on the lake on sunny weekends to set up tents, sunbathe and swim.

It is known that the lake has been here for more than six centuries, because it is alluded to in a 1349 charter. But it will only be around for another two centuries before it turns into a swamp. In 1870, its depth was 12.5 meters. The lake is getting ever shallower as sediment piles up on its base.

To get a glimpse of the lake’s future, visit Mohos, located in another crater that’s part of the same mountain. Once a lake three times as big as Saint Anna, Mohos atrophied somewhere between 3,000 and 4,000 years ago. What that means is that so many plants were growing in the lake – especially sphagnum moss – that it became a bog.

A guided tour of Mohos sets off each hour, and it is a strange experience. When you walk on its surface, you are stepping on a seven-meter moss layer that floats on top of 13 meters of water. To prove this, find a place where the moss parts to give way to a peaty black pool, and jump up and down on what you thought was the ground. You’ll see ripples in the pool.

The moss is so thick that the water underneath is highly inhospitable to living organisms – the technical term for this is oligotrophic. The same is not true, though, of the moss’s top surface, where there are some rather rare species of life forms. There are three different species of insect-eating sundew here: red flowers that look quite harmless but are able to catch passing mosquitoes. Black vipers live here, too – be careful, as they are venomous.

Located only an hour’s drive from the major city of Brasov, these two unusual geographical features can be an interesting day trip as part of a Transylvanian vacation. They serve as a reminder that in this beautiful part of Romania, it is not just the human history and culture that are fascinating: the natural environment is also full of explosive surprises.

Written by and photos by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Rasnov (pronounced Ryshnov) is a small town in Transylvania, central-western Romania, that is home to a spectacular fortified complex. While major Transylvanian cities such as Brasov and Sibiu are famous for their medieval city walls, the Rasnov fortification is older than theirs, its construction having commenced in 1241. It is called the “peasant citadel” as it was constructed by the town’s agricultural workers.

Sitting atop a crag 150 meters high, the fortification several times served as a refuge for Rasnov inhabitants. The area, strategically located on the road linking Transylvania to the neighboring principality of Wallachia, often came under attack from Tatars or Turks. Whenever that happened, townsfolk would retreat up the hill from the town itself to shelter within the fortress walls. The town of Rasnov, which now has 16,000 residents, is spread out at the hill’s foot. It largely consists today of sleepy lines of Baroque houses from the 18th century.

To climb up to the citadel, start by locating the town’s main square, Piata Unirii, which is situated at a place where you directly face the Hollywood-style white letters spelling “Rasnov” on the hillside. Go to the square’s side nearest the fortress, and there is a building with a gateway that leads onto a broad courtyard. This building houses a restaurant, Pub Castel, with a nice beer garden. You might need the sustenance of the food offered here – including flavourful Romanian soups – before you start climbing the steps that lead from the courtyard up to the top of the hill. They are steep, but not dangerous.

If you’d rather drive to the fortress, you can take a winding road that starts a few hundred meters right from Piata Unirii. This doesn’t save any time, though. Either way, you need 15 minutes or so to reach the top.
The fortress is constructed directly into the cliff, and its 17th-century outer wall, five meters high, falls and rises with the hill’s contours. It has eight bastions, the most powerful of which is the gate tower. Within this is the 14th-century inner wall.

Once you get to the interior of the fortress, you’ll see that it is a kind of miniature town. It has a little network of streets and some 30 houses. In the old days, these would be kept prepared for the town’s residents to retreat into. The complex is in good condition and contains facilities like a café and a museum full of medieval utensils, weapons and documents. Elsewhere in the fortress is a place where you can take archery lessons. There is also an international medieval arts festival held up here every year.

The fortification has saved the people of Rasnov more than once. For instance, during a Tatar invasion in 1335 that devastated this area, contemporary documents say that Rasnov was one of only two fortresses that resisted.
Only once did the fortress surrender, in 1612. That was a result of invaders locating the water supply – a hidden river. After that, the townsfolk decided to dig a well in the fortress, which was completed between 1623 and 1640 – probably by Turkish prisoners. The well, which is still visible, goes down 146 meters through solid rock. It only ceased to be used in 1850, as a result of its wheel breaking.

The enemy in 1612, ironically, was the leadership of Transylvania. Rasnov sided with the Wallachians – who had formed an alliance with the Austrians – against the Transylvanian leaders, who were Turkish vassals. The Transylvanian leadership won that particular conflict, and punished Rasnov by holding its citadel for a year, eventually freeing it on payment of a ransom.

Despite that defeat, Rasnov’s residents successfully sheltered in the fortress when the Turks attacked Transylvania in 1658 and in 1690. The last time the fortress served its protective purpose was a period of a few months in 1789, when Austrians and Turks once again battled for domination over the area.

In today’s more peaceful times, Rasnov’s fortress is simply a delightful place to visit. Rasnov is also fairly easy to find, as it is easily reached by road or rail from the major city of Brasov, about 15 kilometers away.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Visitors to Sighisoara, Romania, one of the most evocative Gothic cities in Transylvania (central-western Romania), might not be surprised when they come across a statue of Dracula and learn that the city is his birthplace. With its medieval walled city center on top of a hill, the place seems to have just the atmosphere you’d associate with the bloodsucking aristocrat. But the more you start to find out about the real-life Dracula, the more you realize what an improbable coincidence it is that he was born here.

In fact, when walking around the cobble-stoned streets of Sighisoara, it is best not to even try to find any analogies between the historical Dracula and the fanged villain who made his debut in the 1897 Bram Stoker novel. The real Dracula, though born here, was not primarily associated with Transylvania. Instead, he found fame as the ruler of Wallachia, a different principality whose territory now makes up southern Romania. That means he was a prince – unlike his fictional namesake, who was, of course, a count. Also, the real Dracula was a Romanian, whereas Stoker’s character calls himself a Szekely (a Hungarian-speaking race). Nor was the historical Dracula a vampire, as far as anyone knows. He was, however, an impaler.

Prince Vlad III of Wallachia was called Dracula – originally spelt Draculea – because he was the son of Prince Vlad II, who was known as Dracul. That means “dragon,” and was derived from the fact that Vlad II had joined an order whose symbol was a dragon. The order was dedicated to protecting Europe from the westward expansion by the Ottoman Turks.

Those defensive efforts did not always go well, and when young Dracula was growing up, he spent a lot of time imprisoned by Ottoman forces. His first spell as Prince Vlad III was as the Ottomans’ young puppet, in 1448. He lost that job after the Hungarians, led by Janos Hunyadi, invaded, but he then sealed a pact with Hunyadi that brought him back to the Wallachian throne in 1456.

This was the start of a reign that lasted six years, during which Vlad started to be known as the Impaler. People who displeased him – be they invading foreigners or rebellious locals – would often find themselves punished by being stuck on a wooden spike driven into the earth. Similar to crucifixion, it was a slow, painful method of execution that let gravity do most of the work. Legend tells of occasions when Vlad would have many dozens of people skewered at the same time, forming forests of writhing bodies on wooden stakes.

Dracula was not always a shrewd strategist. Anticipating a war between the Turks and the Hungarians in which his intention was to back the Hungarians, Dracula launched a bloody campaign in the Turk-dominated Balkan peninsula in 1460. The Turks retaliated against him and backed Radu, Vlad’s brother, as the new prince of Wallachia. Unfortunately for Vlad, the Hungarians, too, recognized Radu as the prince. Vlad then spent several years imprisoned in Buda (now part of the Hungarian capital Budapest) under Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary. This may not have been a very closely confined captivity, though, as he married Corvinus’ cousin during this time.

During the 1470s, Vlad strove to become the Wallachian prince again. The Transylvanian prince, Stephen Bathory, lent military support, and Vlad succeeded in regaining the throne. However, he only held it for a month before he was killed, in 1476. Nobody quite knows whether it was his old enemies the Turks who finished him off, or whether it was local people, still angry about his earlier cruelty.

His spirited defense of Wallachian lands has led toVlad III being considered a hero by modern Romanians. But they are not oblivious to the marketing potential caused by the confusion between him and the fictional Dracula. Many locations in the country are promoted to foreign tourists as having a “Dracula connection”, despite having little or nothing to do with Vlad III. On the other hand, some Romanians are annoyed by the bloody legend that has been constructed by writers and filmmakers that bears no relation to the real Dracula.

In Sighisoara, its possible to eat dinner in the building in which, it’s assumed, Dracula was born in 1431 and lived for his first four years. It’s a yellow building right in the historic city center. Given that a lot of central Sighisoara needed to be reconstructed after a fire in 1676, this is probably the oldest house in the area. It survived the fire and is still the same edifice Vlad knew. Once you step inside the house, though, you’re in the world of fiction, with over-the-top, vampire-themed, fake medieval décor. Confused tourists are clearly the target market!

Written by and photos by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

Cluj, Romania is a city of many different faiths and historic communities, just like the region of Transylvania in which it sits. In another article, we’ve already looked at its two largest churches and the stories behind them. But in this article, we’ll explore some of the smaller churches and the congregations they serve. In this compact and culturally rich city, all of these beautiful and widely different churches are located within a few square miles.

The most prevalent Protestant denomination in Transylvania is the Reformed or Calvinist faith. The church in the southern part of the city center now belongs to the Calvinists, but was the site of some inter-denominational conflict in centuries past. Built in 1486-1516, it originally belonged to Franciscan monks. Townsfolk filled with Protestant zeal raided it in 1556 and trashed its sculptures and icons. The Franciscans relinquished the church and it was given to another Catholic group, the Jesuits, in 1579. Protestants struck again in 1603, ransacking the building and destroying the roof. In due course, the Jesuits said goodbye to the building and in 1622 it became what it is now: a Calvinist church with a Hungarian-speaking congregation.

There followed a series of 17^th century renovations, including new vaulting and a pulpit made from limestone and alabaster, creating an interior that remains largely unchanged to this day – somewhat sparse, and still with a Gothic look. The simple wooden pews date from that time. However, the ornate organ housing is from 1765, as it was not until then that the Reformed congregation countenanced organ playing. The church’s single nave is extremely broad.

The statue outside the church’s entrance, showing St. George killing a dragon, is a miniature replica of one that still stands in the Czech capital Prague, having been created for that city in 1373 by a pair of Cluj-based sculpting brothers.

Slightly to the west of the central square in Cluj, named Piata Unirii, stands the Greek Catholic church, which, though small, is a relatively important seat for this dwindling denomination. Greek Catholicism was popular among Transylvanian Romanians in the 18^th century because it allowed them to be in full communion with the Catholicism of their Austrian rulers while keeping Orthodox rites. Accordingly, this church’s interior is a weird hybrid. Like an Orthodox church, it has an iconostasis, icons painted on the walls, and no statues. But there is a Catholic flavor to its pale colors - the Stations of the Cross paintings hanging on the walls, and the fact that there is a pulpit. A side chapel dedicated to the Virgin Mary, though lacking a statue, in other respects resembles something from a Catholic church, including votive tablets hung on the wall by parishioners.

To the south of Piata Unirii is a Roman Catholic church displaying the Baroque style typical of the 18^th century, when the Austrians sent Jesuits around Transylvania to revive Catholicism. In fact, this was the first church the Jesuits built in the region during that counter-Reformation. It has a splendid, highly ornamented interior, with lots of gold.

A real curiosity is the “Cock Church” built in 1912-13 by Karoly Kos, an architect influenced by Transylvanian Hungarian peasant art. A 20 minute stroll west from the city center, this salmon-pink edifice is named for the rooster designs on the top of its tower and on the interior lampshades. The church offers a modern twist on village architecture, with stylized folk motifs punctuating the simple dark wood planks of its chunky but elegant interior.

A faith strongly associated with Transylvania’s Hungarian community is observed in the Unitarian church, built in 1792-96. This faith – in which there is only one God rather than a Trinity – was mostly adopted by ordinary folk, because aristocrats, as part of their duties, sometimes needed to swear on the cross. In keeping with the Unitarian ethos, this church contains no pictures. Its broad, sweeping, single-nave interior, topped by a low arched ceiling, is plain and simple. The walls are painted a uniform pale yellow and punctuated with big windows. During services, the priest likes to stand facing the crowd rather than delivering his words from a pulpit.

A stone’s throw west is the Lutheran church, which stands on the northeast corner of the square named Piata Unirii. The word “Pietati” is written on the front facade, meaning “To Piety” in Latin. Inside, this church proves to be another big, arched, elegantly simple single-nave, although it has more adornment than the Unitarian one. The columns that support the expansive white interior are touched up with gold paint on their bosses. The north wall contains a couple of small epitaphs to local officials from the 17^th and 18^th centuries. This church was constructed in 1816-1829 in a style that is a fusion of Baroque and Neo-Classical. Its congregation mostly consists of ethnic Hungarians, and services are held in their language.

Travelers to Cluj who want to know its history, culture, and people, need only visit its many religiously significant churches.

Written by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com

The Tara Motilor region in western Romania features beautiful, heavily wooded mountains and rustic little towns. Here, the town of Campeni boasts a Romanian Orthodox church that stands on a small hill. Its wood gate is adorned with carvings of important national events and heroes. Read more about Tara Motilor, Romania

Photo and article by David Hill for EuropeUpClose.com