Eight years ago, I visited Viscri in Transylvania with my family. I warmly remembered Michael, our wonderful host, who arrived every morning with fresh eggs, farm cheeses, and homemade jam. He did not understand a single word of English, and we did not know a word of Romanian, but our hearts communicated long before the era of translation apps.
Eight years have passed since then. Looking again for a destination that would allow us to escape the Israeli summer into green open spaces and clear air, we found ourselves booking tickets to Romania once more. It was not only because of the Carpathian Mountains, the scenic roads, or the affordable prices, but mainly because of the villages and the people, who serve as a reminder that life can also be lived at a different pace.
A week before our departure, the weather in Europe decided to surprise us, and temperatures climbed nearly to heights familiar to us from the Israeli summer. After a brief moment of concern, we packed summer clothes along with a warm layer just in case, and set off.
Station One: Vâlcea County
From Bucharest, we drove west to Vâlcea County. After about three hours of relaxed driving, with yellow sunflower fields accompanying the road, we reached our first stop: The Trovants Museum (Muzeul Trovanților). The site features unique geological formations known as "growing stones" - rounded rocks that resemble dinosaur eggs. After rains, new bulges develop on some of them, a phenomenon that over the years has given rise to local legends about "living stones."
From there, we continued to the Horezu Monastery (Mănăstirea Hurezi), one of the most important and beautiful monasteries in Romania and a recognized UNESCO World Heritage Site. We ended the day in the pottery village of Olari. Right at the entrance, the craft of the locals was recognizable, with colorful ceramic works displayed in yards and doorways. Without prior arrangement, we were invited into one of the workshops to watch a potter working at his wheel in the day's last light. It was our first encounter with a living local tradition.
A local breakfast and temperatures of 20°C were all it took to wake up and know that only good things awaited us from here on out. We dedicated most of this day to the Transalpina road, one of the most beautiful scenic routes in Romania, parts of which reach an elevation of about 2,100 meters.
The winding road unveils Transylvania’s hidden landscapes
We drove through thick fog that cleared periodically to reveal jagged, green peaks. As we continued to ascend, we realized, to our delight, that we had packed too few warm clothes. Every bend in the winding road revealed new landscapes: A shepherd, herds of sheep and goats, and even large patches of snow along the roadside. It was a long, beautiful drive through views that felt as though they were taken from a screensaver, reminding me once again how much I love this country, its landscapes, and its good people. It was early July, and everything was green and filled with water.
When the rain subsided slightly, we stopped for a short break from the long drive at Lake Oașa (Lacul Oașa), a large, quiet reservoir surrounded by pine forests.
Slowing down in the village
After the long drives of the past two days, we settled in Gura Râului, a small village on the edge of the Carpathians in the southern part of Sibiu County, and decided to slow down a bit and explore the immediate surroundings.
On Sunday morning, the villagers gathered for prayer in the small church. Unlike the large, grand cathedrals in the cities, rural churches offer anyone equipped with patience a wealth of small moments. The women were dressed in holiday attire, stepping lightly on their heels, their hair wrapped in colorful headscarves or traditional hats.
Outside, another surprise awaited us. In the square outside the church, many families gathered, and police officers maintained order ahead of a small procession taking shape. It was a local event that we stumbled upon by chance - exactly the kind of moment every photographer is happy to find along the way.
Young men wearing traditional clothing stomped their feet, horses and riders joined them, and musicians entered the picture as well. At the end of the procession, the villagers headed to the park at the edge of the area for a shared lunch.
A drive of just a few minutes brought us to Cristian, a small Saxon village near Sibiu. Summer arrives in the village with the sound of storks clicking their beaks. Dozens of pairs return every year to the same massive nests, where they raise a new generation. At this time of year, one can watch the chicks grow, flap their wings, and practice for their first flight.
There is hardly a single pole, spire, or cross without a stork family featuring numerous chicks, and the sky above them is filled with storks in flight. A true stork village right here.
We concluded our three days in southwestern Sibiu with an evening walk in Sibiu, one of the most famous and visited cities in Transylvania. Like many historical cities in the region, it features cobblestone streets, inner courtyards, medieval towers, and the famous "eyes" on the rooftops - small windows that seem to watch over passersby.
After days in small villages and unplanned encounters, it was interesting to transition back into an urban space, but our hearts were already elsewhere - on the side roads and in the villages off the beaten path.
We said goodbye to the Sibiu region and headed east toward Viscri, carrying the slight apprehension that accompanies any return to a beloved place: Could the memory be more beautiful than reality?
Fortunately, the concern dissipated almost immediately. Viscri welcomed us just as we remembered it, with one difference: It was even more beautiful than we recalled. Almost immediately, we regretted allocating only two nights to it.
Along the way, we stopped in Brăteiu, a village of coppersmiths engaged in metalwork. In front of the homes, handcrafted metal works by family members were displayed, a sign of the life and craft that still thrive here. We pulled over immediately.
A young girl wearing traditional clothing came outside to greet us. The place felt as though it had been waiting for us: The barn, the family's livestock, the small vegetable garden, and, in an adjacent space, a collection of traditional garments sewn from rich, heavy fabrics, some centuries old.
We walked around the site, overwhelmed by the experience. Here too, our hosts did not speak a word of English, but their hospitality needed no translation. Three women - Maria, Maria, and Maria (yes!) - and one man gave us an hour of colorful, aesthetic happiness that weighed heavily only on our loaded memory cards.
Later, we reached Mediaș, a colorful Saxon city featuring an Evangelical church at its center and a 15th-century clock tower, for a coffee stop and papanași, the traditional Romanian doughnut-like pastry served with sour cream and berries.
However, the moment that warmed our hearts the most awaited us right there on the street: A massive Israeli flag stretched across the balcony of one of the buildings, featuring the words "Am Yisrael Chai" at its center, the result of a local initiative. Generally, mentions of Israel here are met with great warmth.
"Israel very good. You live in a fanatic area; you have to stay strong," we were told more than once in broken English, accompanied by a small fist gesture for emphasis.
In the afternoon, we arrived at the Haus Rether guesthouse in Bunești, a ten-minute drive from Viscri. A large wooden door opens to a unique, extraordinary lodging: A historic Saxon house with an ancient stone well in its spacious courtyard, followed by a vast barn, a grape arbor, and a fully equipped summer kitchen. All of this for €60 a night.
We decided to abandon our packed itinerary and take our time in the immediate area. That decision, along with Viscri, was one of the best we made throughout the trip.
I sit on the wooden swing with a cup of coffee, pull out the book that had been neglected in the suitcase, and downshift. I yield to the good air and the beautiful courtyard around me.
Viscri welcomed us, quiet and picturesque, just as we remembered it. There are places where time hardly touches, and Viscri is one of them. It is one of the most beautiful and famous Saxon villages in Transylvania, designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site due to its exceptional preservation.
From the first steps in the village, progress seems to have been left far behind. The unpaved main street, the colorful houses with traditional facades, and the fortified church rising above the hill create a setting that feels like a journey back in time.
As in many villages in Transylvania, agriculture and handicrafts remain an integral part of daily life. The large wooden gates typical of the region open to spacious courtyards housing the residence, the barn, the sheepfold, and sometimes a small coop or geese wandering through the yard.
On the dirt roads, the sound of horseshoes can still be heard, and horse-drawn wooden carts continue to serve as a functional means of transportation - not a tourist attraction, but a natural part of the local routine. On more than one occasion, we saw entire families sitting on a bed of hay in a cart on their way to the fields or to a neighboring village.
As a photographer, it was nearly impossible for me to remain indifferent to these sights. More than once, I asked to stop the vehicle, leaped out with the camera, and waited patiently for a driver to pass by in just the right spot, with the colorful houses or the fortified church serving as the backdrop. These were those small, unplanned moments that deviate from the original trip plan and create the memorable images of the entire journey.
This feeling accompanied us beyond the main street. Horses grazed in the meadow, wooden carts passed occasionally on the dirt tracks, and every encounter with the villagers was accompanied by a smile and mutual curiosity.
In one chance encounter, we were invited to join the afternoon cow milking. After showing up on time, we also received a small gift: A container with warm milk straight from the udder for our morning coffee.
Faithful to our new plan to stay in the immediate area, we continued to the village of Dacia. We followed herds of sheep, horses, a llama, and cows, and alongside them, we discovered a herd of imposing buffalo.
The massive animals called out to one another as we approached "their" grazing area and blocked our vehicle, as if warning us that we should leave immediately. Naturally, we left.
After two days in Bunești, we said goodbye to Alex, our host, and to his wonderful accommodations, knowing that we would return here, to Viscri and its surroundings, perhaps one day with an expanded family group.
Meanwhile, a long day awaited us
We drove between the Saxon villages of Transylvania, stopping occasionally alongside horses grazing on grass at house entrances and across from elderly residents sitting in front of their homes, enjoying the cool breeze and watching the world go by. The colorful houses, their peeling facades bearing layers of time, provided perfect material for period photography.
We made a short stop at Cârța, a somber Gothic monastery, and from there went to one of the most unique places to stay we have ever visited, Pensiunea Dealul Verde.
Before us was a rural guesthouse in the heart of the forest featuring unique round structures reminiscent of the world of the Flintstones, with no straight lines or angles. Nicoleta, our lovely host, welcomed us as if we were old friends.
An excellent dinner prepared by her hands awaited us, followed by a treat that was just right after long hours of driving: The hot tub was steaming, it was a cool 12°C outside, and in front of us stood the Făgăraș Mountains range.
We felt as though we were in a dream
After an excellent night's sleep, we departed early for the most famous scenic route in Romania, the Transfăgărășan, and one of the highlights of our trip, which was drawing to a close.
The sky above was cloudy and beautiful, and in front of us were springs and waterfalls whose beauty was difficult to process. We passed warning signs not to feed the bears, rounded a curve, stopped, and could not believe our eyes.
A bear emerged right before us. The first came out of the forest, followed by the second and the third. At the next bend, a massive mother bear appeared, with bear cubs behind her. They all approached the cars parked on the roadside to look at them.
Locals refer to the wild bears compassionately as "circus bears" - those that have learned that proximity to humans brings food. We observed them for a long time, lowered the camera for a moment, watched the interaction between the mother and the cubs, as well as between them and the drivers pulling over, and our hearts went out to them.
On the memory card was a bear photoshoot, accompanied by a troubling thought about the change humans cause in nature.
Toward evening, we arrived for our final night in Bucharest, tired from a long drive and filled with endless experiences. The next day we would return home to the heavy heat left behind and to the approaching Sabbath.
In the days following our return, we looked at the photos and returned to the small moments Romania offered us: To the villages, the people, the side roads, and the chance encounters.
Once again, we discovered that the plan is only a starting point. It is precisely the moments when we diverged from it - the unplanned stop, the casual conversation, the invitation to step inside - that stay with us long after returning home.
Mulțumesc, Romania. We are already starting to plan the way back.