Fri 7 Aug, Brașov

I hiked up the ‘mountain’ to the Hollywoodesque Brașov sign (3km, +350m, 90 mins). Everyone was shod in walking shoes/boots, some even with poles. A couple of rocks spilt across the path, with overkill chains to hold onto – not the sheer cliff that springs to mind if I claim a mountain with via ferrata. Not a single bear repellent in sight. How did Romanians joke about bears? I passed a sign, warning me to walk in groups and not stray from the path. Arse covering, I thought, but Romania does have the occasional fatal encounter. My heart sank at the summit cafe. Was there a table without pumping music? No. I followed the signs for the telecabina. There was no ticket office and no sign. I decided it must be free to go down. I rode down, impressed with their generosity… till the last-moment turnstile onto the street. I salmoned my way against the torrent and explained the situation. It was only a fiver but there was a bloody minded point to be made. I waited. “The manager says we’ll call the cops.” “Yes please!” I waited, then got back into the car. “I’ll go back up and walk down thanks.” Not wanting to piss off the punters, I soon got out, as instructed. They opened the turnstile. Back on the street, more self doubt. Had I just enjoyed a power game? It didn’t feel like enjoyment, but I was certainly aware of my privilege of assertiveness.

Propaganda bar was another retro Soviet kitsch bar, but not in the hipster old town. It was more low key, just with a collection of old radios and TVs. The much reviewed cat had installed itself on a prime stool on the terrace but after a magic rub, it kindly allowed me to share its table. A woman at the next table scared it away with her camera. “No paparazzi!”, I joked. I had a cheeky beer with my coffee. Literally. The waitress was impressed I could pronounce Csikisör (a curt “cheeky-shurr”), so I thanked her in Hungarian. She beamed. 

Romania has a highly multicultural history. After WW2, 9% were ethnic Hungarians, 2% Germans, 1% Jews and 0.5% Roma. West Germany quietly paid Romania to allow the Germans to emigrate. Israel did the same with the Jews. Ceaușescu tried to stamp out any Hungarian identity (but so had England previously with the Welsh). Communist Hungary, despite its previous imperial status, was neither in a position to buy them all back nor an attractive Go West destination, so they stayed and after the fall of communism enjoyed an upward bounce. The Roma population increased to today’s 3%, partly through having large families and partly because some started to feel safe to come out in the census. Estimates suggest at least that number still hide their ethnicity as prejudice and discrimination live on.