Royal Romanian retreat
No wonder Charles adores his Carpathian haven — it’s a tranquil escape
‘We’re hoping,’ said the man at the dinner table, ‘to see a bear.’ I tried to nod politely as I swallowed a mouthful of stew. I was not hoping to see a bear. I didn’t even know there
were bears in Transylvania.
I planned to see lovely countryside, explore pretty villages and eat lots of wonderful local food. I was also hoping to find out more about the place that already seemed very different to anywhere else I’d visited.
We were sitting under oak beams in a cottage painted a soft cornflower blue. This was Zalanpatak, location of the Prince of Wales’s nature retreat and guesthouse in the Carpathian mountain foothills.
After a bumpy ride up a dirt track, we had arrived just in time to toast the sunset. Now we were eating and making small talk at a giant shared table. I was there with a couple of friends.
There was a Dorset farmer cycling round Transylvania with his daughter, and a French pensioner and his son who planned serious, naturewatching walks.
Dining at the guesthouse is communal. There’s no wifi, radio or TV. Instead, there are books, binoculars, bikes and walks.
It’s a glimpse of a lost, much slower, world. The rooms, in a cluster of once-derelict cottages, are full of antiques, handicrafts and embroidered linen. In the Prince of Wales’s own room, there’s a sweet photograph of his mum. He comes here to paint and get away from it all.
It isn’t hard to see why. The views are spectacular. The air is clear. The meadows are full of wildflowers. In the forests, there are wolves and lynx, plus bears. We didn’t see any, thank God, but did see a fresh bear print, while climbing the hill behind our cottage to gaze down the valley.
What we also saw, as we drove back down the mountain and through gently rolling countryside, was a lot of sheep and cows, donkeys, horses pulling carts, a fox and a family of deer.
We had lunch in the village of Viscri, in a chicken-filled courtyard. ‘We make everything ourselves,’ said the smiling woman who served us cabbage leaves stuffed with home-reared pork and beef. ‘Would you like to try my jam?’ she added.
We didn’t realise at the time, but her jams, which we tried, are legendary — and so, it turns out, is she.
Gerda, or ‘Mama Gerda’ as she is known, is one of only six Saxons left in Viscri. Transylvania has, at different times, been under the control of romans, Huns, Visigoths, Bulgarians, Hungarians, Saxons and the Habsburg empire.
Viscri was once a mainly Saxon village. After the 1989 collapse of Ceausescu’s regime, many returned to West Germany and their homes fell into disrepair. Prince Charles bought two. He’s a fan of Mama Gerda’s cooking — and her jam. His interest in the village has played a major part in its restoration. And you can see why he thought it was worth restoring. The houses — painted mint green, ochre, soft turquoise — are beautiful and line the road leading up to a fortified church. Viscri is one of seven villages with fortified churches in Transylvania listed as Unesco World Heritage Sites. We went to two others — at Biertan and Saschiz — and both were gorgeous. In Saschiz, I spotted an official sign showing which shades you’re allowed to paint your house. There weren’t many left out. It isn’t just the villages that are vibrant. The old town in Brasov exudes Viennese- style elegance with buildings the colours of fondant fancies. It has several museums, ten towers on its citadel walls, the largest Gothic church in romania, and a town square ringed by mountains.
The medieval fortified city of Sighisoara, with its clock tower, marshmallow- coloured houses and gingerbread- style roofs, is like something from a fairy tale.
Here, too, is the yellow house where Vlad the Impaler once lived. He ruled Wallachia with a — very spiky — iron rod and inspired Bram Stoker’s Dracula. It is now a restaurant.
Forget Dracula. Transylvania is enchanting; the people friendly; the food and wine delicious. And if you do bump into a bear, clap, walk on and try to keep calm.