We arrived in Sogndalsfjøra in the afternoon and quickly made our way to the local camping ground by the fjord, on the west-side of town. There were quite a few people with RV’s and tents set up in the main camping area where the ground was flat and the grass was cut. They sounded mostly Norwegian and so we didn’t want to bother them too much with our rowdy eastern-European shouting way of speech. Thus, Daniel and I decided to pitch our tent further up the gentle slope where there was nobody else. Here the grass was tall and wild, overgrowing a small old playground too. No bother, we wanted wild camping anyway.
The town of Sogndalsfjøra on the Sognefjord, seen from the west side
As the sun was heading west, the mountain behind the campsite started slowly casting its great shadow. I wanted nothing more then to try to climb up on top of it! We set up our tent, left our stuff in camp and headed out to explore the area. We quickly made our way up the streets of the residential area looking for a path to take us up the mountain. Instead we wound up in someone’s backyard… Oops! We had a laugh with the owner and he pointed us in the right direction. Eventually, we made it up to a lovely clearing and were treated to a superb view of the surrounding area. We then headed back down to explore the town and decided to leave the full mountain hike for the next day.
Sogndalsfjøra
Like we’ve come to expect by this point Sogndalsfjøra was a nice and cozy, quiet little Norwegian town. We walked up and down the streets taking in the sights and the Norwegian chattering around us. It felt like we were the only foreign tourists in town. Well, except for this one other backpacker dude that we kept running into everywhere. I mean seriously. We saw this guy like 5 times popping up everywhere we went. We half expected to run into him in our tent too. Well… small town I guess.
Just an old Laben in town… (this will get a snicker out of any Romanian speaker… don’t ask why)
By the time we made it to the other side of town our stomachs were rumbling and the sun was starting to set. It was time to head back to camp.
Sogndalsfjøra from the east side with our camping ground to the far left at the foothills of the mountain
An adventurous evening
Once we got back and had a much needed meal in camp, we spent the last minutes of daylight chilling by the overgrown playground. As we’re goofing around on the swings, we suddenly notice an alarmingly large number of spiders inhabiting the corners of the swings, just a couple of meters away from our tent. Neither of us have any arachnophobia luckily, but the sight was quite unsettling. Especially when upon closer inspection we realize it was an entire nest of Cross spiders, with a gigantic mother queen in the middle. Now we understood why everyone else was camping on the nice patches of cut grass and not in the wild jungle we were in.
Apparently cross spider bites are harmless to humans, but at the time we weren’t sure about that. Back in Romania we used to be told to keep away from these types of spiders because they can land you a trip to the hospital. Regardless, it was now dark and we couldn’t really move all of our stuff until the next day. As long as we kept the tent closed, I thought, we should be fine. Daniel, however, was not having it. He was hell bent on usurping the queen mother, but wasn’t sure how to do it. Within a few minutes, he shows up with a pot and pan in hand, ready to strike the killing blow. I strongly advised against this rash and reckless course of action, but he wouldn’t listen.
The mother queen!
With arms spread out far to keep a safe distance, he bashes the two items together in the most clumsy way imaginable hoping to squish the spider-queen. The pot and pan fall out of his hands dropping into the spider-infested grass. The murder weapons were safely recovered and inspected for proof of success. However, it seemed like the assassination attempt was failed. As a good friend, I reminded him of how I advised him not to do this. Now the spider-queen would come back to get him in his sleep!
Our spidery hosts
Sogndal hiking
We survived the night and woke up the next day to a bunch of our lovely spidery hosts investigating the outer layers of our tent. Thankfully none ever got inside of the tent. We just had to be careful when going in and out of the tent, so as to not have any unwelcomed guests. Otherwise, we had grown accustomed to our new eight legged friends. After the morning ritual we decided to head back up the mountain behind us and climb up all the way to the top this time.
Hiking around in Sogndal
As I recall, it was a good hour or so hike up through the shady forest. On our way we found a decent variety of mushrooms, but didn’t attempt picking any. Neither of us were mushroom experts. On the way we constantly got glimpses of the spectacular views through the trees. Oh and there was this random wooden shack on the way. Probably holding someone’s secret shroom-stash.
Shelter, or private shroom-shack?
Towards the top, just as we were coming out of the forest, we found this large patch of blueberry bushes. I think we spent at least half an hour munching on those. Every time we’d want to continue we’d stop to just take a few more. We also had this pack of almonds with us and discovered how amazingly well almonds go with blueberries.
To eat, or not to eat?
Breathtaking views
Beyond the rich blueberry fields, we came across a small lake surrounded by swampy ground where we met a couple of polish guys on their holiday. Beyond the tree line we got a glimpse of snow-capped mountains in the distance. We later learned that we were looking towards Fjærland, and one of the last remaining glacier fields in Europe. The sight was just so incredible and unexpected. We discussed possibly going there the next day, but eventually decided not to. We weren’t really equipped for snowy conditions and were already half way into our holiday time.
The glorious mountains of Fjærland in the distance
We continued our hike on the trail towards the south. At one point, we found this curious cube placed on top of a dried up tree. Could it be the famous cubic oracle of ancient folklore described by various tripped out shamans of old? Either that, or a moose attracting salt block.
Oh great cube, imbue us with your salty nature and show us what you’ve seen!
Hiking on, we got a good glimpse, and shot of this big pointy antenna thingy that was sticking out from one of the neighboring mountains. We kept seeing this thing from camp too and named it the Soyuz, just because it looked like some Russian rocket ready to blast off into space.
Soyuz to the Moon!
Finally we reached the southern edge of our trail and got treated to the most spectacular views of the Sognefjord!
Sognefjord, view towards the west
Gone fishing
Later that day, we went back down to the fjord. Daniel was ready to try out his fishing prowess once more. There were many attempts and I believe at least one more hook was lost. The end result was a bunch of tangled fishing line and a half-decent clump of oozing seaweed.
Catch of the day, 100% vegan friendly
While he was busy figuring out his tangled wires, I decided to take a dip in the fjord. I mean, one should not simply travel all the way to the fjords without testing the waters. In conclusion, the waters were cold. But not too cold. Like it was ok to take a dip and wash off, but anything more then that was just brrr.
“Brrr-o-meter” was not great, not terrible
After we had our fun in the fjord, we hiked around the edge of town some more, checking out some nice looking rock outcrops. Hey, we’re geologist. We’ll sometimes randomly do that kind of stuff. Funky folding rock textures
The day was almost over now and it was time to say farewell to Sogndal, to our spider friends, to the random backpacker dude we never talked to, to the Soyuz and everyone else. I’m always a bit sad when I’m more than half way through my trip, because I realize the adventure is soon coming to an end.
We left our runic mark in the sands of Sogndal. I don’t remember what we wrote, so I’ll just assume it was something nice like love and hugs… Ah, who am I kidding, it was definitely something obscene!
We had about 3 days left of our holiday and the current plan was to start heading back east the next day. We would stop for a day somewhere in the mountainous regions of Lærdal to check out a historic stave church and hopefully do some more hiking. Then we’d go back to Fagernes and spend the rest of our time there. However, don’t forget… plans change…
The journey from Fagernes towards the west-fjords remains one of the most impressive bus-rides for me to date. The way in which the mountain range grew and grew, with steeper and ever more imposing cliffs presented some of the most breathtaking views I’ve seen. As a mountain lover I just had to hike up on one of those beauties!
The rising mountain ranges along the road from Fagernes, to Sogndal, Norway
If memory serves, we still didn’t have an exact destination in mind. All Daniel and I knew was we wanted to reach the sea water coming in through the fjords. Although, there were a few spots with a bus stop where I fantasized about getting off and just start hiking. There was this beautiful little spot, in the middle of nowhere, well within the Jotunheim mountain range. The only sign of civilization were a couple of houses by a lake, with gorgeous valleys and mountains behind. We talked about potentially stopping there for a day on our way back. However, we weren’t sure if the bus would always stop, or we’d end up stuck there. Ah, who would want to leave there anyway!
Picturesque view from the road somewhere around Tyinkrysset, Norway.
Crossing the fjords
Well within the mountains now, the valleys following small rivers became ever narrower. The cliffs flanking the road seemed to engulf us on all sides. The bus came to a stop for about half an hour, or more in a small town in Årdal. The town was situated by the water, with the most imposing mountain cliffs surrounding it. The instant I walked out of the bus, my fear of heights/tall things kicked in. I felt like I was in a big bucket, with the gigantic rock facades ready to collapse on top of me. As beautiful and impressive as it was, I think I just quickly took a couple of pictures and went back into the bus due to my anxiety. It is quite an annoying phobia that I still sometimes struggle with to this day.
A brief stop in Årdal, Norway
It was in Årdal where got our first taste of the mighty fjords. The small river now opened up into a huge body of flowing water, carving its way through the deep valley. Soon after, our bus climbed on to a large ferry. This was the end of the road. The only way forward from here was by boat!
Crossing the fjords by ferry from Årdal to Sogndal
Sogndal
After the 10-15 minutes ferry ride, we were back on the road and close to what became our final destination in west-Norway. I don’t recall if we had planned ahead, or it was another one of those spontaneous decisions, but Sogndal was as far as we would go. Specifically the village of Sogndalsfjøra nestled in the heart of the Sognefjord. We found yet another camping ground and settled in for two days of hiking and exploring.
Sogndalsfjøra, Norway
Our stay in Sogndal was fraught with adventure: deadly spiders, breathtaking vistas, polish people, mushrooms and more! I will elaborate in my next post of this series.
The next day we had quite a few hours to kill before our bus arrived. So we decided to spend the better part of our morning walking around the small, quiet town of Dokka. Around noon, we took the next bus going west, towards the great Norwegian mountains and fjords. As we drove on, the small hills grew bigger, slowly transitioning into steep-cliff mountains. After just over an hour, we decided to get off the bus in Fagernes, a small city in the Valdres Nature and Culture Park, Norway.
Fagernes, Norway (2013)
Fagernes
The city is situated on the shores of the beautiful Strondafjorden lake, flanked by hills and mountain peaks on all sides. The landscape showcases the transition from the gentle lowlands to the east to the imposing Jotunheim Mountains to the west. As you may imagine, the area around the city provides some excellent hiking opportunities, with truly breathtaking views. Meanwhile Strondafjorden lake serves as a great swimming and fishing spot, as well as seaplane runway.
Strondafjorden lake, seen from Vesleøye island
Fagernes camping
After getting off the bus, Daniel and I made our way to the local campground. Nestled between mount Storøyi and lake Strondafjorden, Fagernes camping offers cabins, apartments and plenty of green space for pitching your tent. The restroom and showers were very clean and well kept. However, I clearly remember there being some sort of a water usage tax when using the facilities, which was very odd to me at the time. With our less then impressive budget, we were quite reluctant to use the shower as we expected exorbitant prices. After all, we were in one of the most expensive countries in the world. Hell, even using the restrooms freaked us out because what if it doesn’t stop flushing? We’d be literally flushing our savings down the nice and clean Norwegian toilet.
Cabins for rent in Fagernes camping
Aside from the quirky water-tax, Fagernes campground was and remains easily one of my favorite camping grounds. Overlooking the small island of Vesleøye with the city and gentle hills in the background, the view from our tent by the lakeside was simply incredible. Flocks of ducks would often swim around on the lake in front of us. A little seaplane was parked right across from us on the other side of the lake. Every few hours it would lake take off, only to return not long after. Considering the small size of the town, we were wondering whether the owner was simply flying off to do his grocery shopping elsewhere.
Our neighbour flying out to do his grocery shopping
To the southeastern edge of the camp, we found a pathway leading into the forest just beneath mount Storøyi. We spent the rest of the day hiking and exploring the city and surrounding forests.
Resident ducks playing around on Strondafjorden lake
Fantasy forests
I wanted to take a moment and share my appreciation for the forests around this region of Norway. Dominated by coniferous trees, the forests around Fagernes seemed straight out of a fantasy world. This was mostly due to the thick mossy carpet covering the ground almost entirely. It felt like walking on pillows and blankets. I had never seen anything like that before. Rock outcrops and boulders would often peak out from under the green rug, but still wearing an appropriate little moss cap. Colorful mushrooms and blueberry bushes would occasionally spice up the environment.
Moss, moss everywhere!
A curious thing we noticed was that tourists were way more interested in picking blueberries then the locals. In fact, I think we never saw any Norwegians foraging. Perhaps they were jaded from all their blueberry-munching ancestors that came before. Oh well, more for us!
Amanita muscaria, a mildly poisonous and hallucinogenic mushroom, common throughout Europe
Onwards, westward!
After an active afternoon hiking around, we decided to try out a local burger join. Sadly I forgot the name of the place, but I recall the burger was huge and delicious. The price was also quite huge. Enough so to make anyone’s eyes water and wallet bleed… but hey, it’s Norway!
Hey, it’s Norway! – Fagernes camping
Another hike later, we ended up back in camp, practicing our terrible knife-throwing skills at the edge of the forest. We enjoyed the rest of our evening lounging by the lake. It was at this time my dreams of a cool, bug-free northern paradise were dashed by the several huge mosquitos constantly pestering us. Daniel proposed that these were some sort of dragonflies as they were too big and it was too cold for mosquitos. My obvious mosquito bites by the next day would put a dent in his theory. So, word to the wise: pack mosquito repellent if you go camping in Norway!
Our evening view from Fagernes camping
The next morning we packed up and took the next bus westward. Deeper into the Jotunheim Mountain range, with the goal to reach the west-fjords.
Greetings dear reader. I thought to take a little break from the hiking in north-Transylvania series and instead focus on one of my most important and beloved travel-experiences: Norway. The story begins around early 2013. I was at one of my lower points in life, jobless and aimless, waiting on promises that would never come. I still clung onto a strand of hope that I would leave the country for a better future somewhere else. But it was becoming less and less clear where, or how.
It was during this time that one of my best friends, Daniel, was trying to cheer me up with ideas of going on a summer adventure somewhere abroad. We were half-joking about going to Thailand and then maybe I’d just stay there and try to open a cheap bar. I say half-joking, because there was real intent to the madness. I just needed to get away and do something else, start anew. But for me, money was constantly an issue, however Daniel promised he’d help me cover a lot of my travel costs. Slowly, but surely, as summer drew close it was becoming less of a joke and more of a plan.
However, the plan would change when a high-risk for tourists warning was given out for Thailand during that time. We floated around a couple of other ideas for places we’d like to go to. The one that ended up sticking was Norway. We were both fascinated by the Viking culture and dreamed of seeing the great fjords and mountains in the cool, wild north. Thus, as August drew close, we began planning our great road trip from Oslo to the west-fjords.
A Norwegian susnet
Plans change… again
Our plane landed in Oslo at around 11 pm. We were giddy with excitement to step onto “sacred” Viking land for the first time. We initially didn’t plan to book any accommodation, instead wanted to grab the rental car and start camping from day one. However, thanks to peer-pressure from our families we decided to book a room for the first night. This ended up being a very wise move. We quickly made our way to the car rental place. Daniel was in charge of the whole driving thing, I was a but a simple co-pilot and car-dj. As he was taking care of the paperwork, he starts searching through his wallet for his credit card. I will never forget how his expression gradually deteriorated from high excitement to sheer despair as he realized he forgot his card…
There we were at Oslo airport, extremely underfunded and unable to even take out the car he had rented. Our glorious travel plan crumbling to pieces. I started laughing hysterically, while he was beating himself up over how he lost his card. I mean, what can you do? Shit happens. It was cartoonishly funny.
We ended up taking probably one of the most expensive taxis ever to our hotel. Then I called my parents and kindly asked them to heavily load up my credit card with money. They would, of course, get this back once we returned. That took care of our financial issues, but we still couldn’t rent out a car, because they wouldn’t allow for one person to rent and another to drive? I don’t remember the reasoning, but it was very weird… Suffice to say, we had 7 days to spend in Norway and one night to figure out what to do.
The view from our hotel room in the morning – Norway, August 2013
Just have an open mind
It was a good thing we had that first night accommodation booked. It was also a good thing we didn’t have any other accommodation booked. We briefly considered spending the week in Oslo. Then we thought about taking a train up north to Trondhejm, or beyond. We could either find a camping ground, or go wild-camping, since this is allowed in Norway. In the end, we decided to just go to the Oslo bus terminal and take the first bus going north and get off where we please. Then, the next day, we’d do the same, in a different direction. Rinse and repeat until we both complete our primary goals: to reach the big fjords and to hike up a glorious Norwegian mountain.
Now I can’t say how the initial road-trip plan would have went. I imagine it would have been fun. But what we ended up doing instead was a way better adventure-trip then we ever expected! Perhaps it was the hilariously unfortunate beginning, or the sheer spontaneity that forged our plan. I don’t know, but every day was like opening a mystery box. Where are we? Where are we going? Don’t know, don’t care, but it’s fun as hell! This would be my first big lesson on how it’s better to be flexible and not stress about planning out the details of your travels.
Don’t stress, just gaze up and enjoy the view! – Norway 2013
Dokka – a little place in the middle of nowhere
We took our first bus up north. It was there that we discovered one of the joys modern western society: Nettbus, bus with free internet! Well, actually year later, Daniel tells me that Nettbus means grid-bus in Norwegian. But hey, there really was free internet! The experience was nothing like traveling by bus in Romania. The drive was so smooth and enjoyable. The roads were extremely well maintained. Everything was so clean… The landscape was also quite different. Mostly birch-covered gentle hills flanking lakes and marshland. We just sat back and enjoyed the ride, the scenery and the free internet!
Riding the Nettbus up north from Oslo
After around 4 to 5 hours on the bus, we decided to get off in a small little town of less than 3000 people called Dokka. The little town seemingly in the middle of nowhere had its own campsite! This was where we stayed for our second night. The camp was located near a small river. It was very peaceful, not crowded at all. The perfect weekend retreat after a long weeks worth of work. Daniel was hyped about trying out his mad fishing skills for the first time. I believe it was here that he lost his first fishing hook. Score one for the river.
Dokka camping ground, Norway
Our evening in Dokka was very relaxing. We cooked our meal by the river and had our first “wild” Norwegian sunset with some ramen noodles. On the next day, we decided we’d start heading west towards the mountains.
The cruel river that refused to provide us with fresh fish
In my previous post on hiking in north-Transylvania I left off at the village of Firiza, located north of Baia Mare city. Firiza is a typical quiet, rustic north-Transylvanian village nested in the Firiza valley. The crossroads at the north-end of the village marks the end of the bus line. The east-bound road crosses the Black Valley (Valea Neagră), leading to a regionally well-known skiing resort, Staţiunea Izvoare. The north-bound road leads to the village of Blidari and theoretically goes much further to a very large and beautiful mountain plateau called Platou Runcu. However, I say theoretically because last I checked the road was so insanely bad that no normal car should attempt that and expect to make it out in one piece.
Luckily one doesn’t need to go all the way to Runcu for a wonderful hiking experience. At the northern edge of Blidari you can see a large rocky cliff from the road and you may think to yourself “Wow, that place must offer some great scenic views”, and you would be absolutely right! The exposed cliff is called Piatra Bulzului, which translates as the Bulz’s Stone and is a great medium difficulty day-hike from Blidari.
Piatra Bulzului, seen from the road in the Blidari valley, 2014
Piatra Bulzului
The hike to the cliff begins from the main road down in the Blidari valley. Just as you’re coming out of the village, there is an easy-to-miss sign pointing towards the forest. Turns out there’s actually a trail amid the thick bush and trees.
Hmm, now where could that sign be?
The first half an hour, or so you will follow a gentle slope up the mountain. Sporadic crooked wooden fences mark private property along the trail so make sure not to cross those. During the autumn season, the leaf-covered soil gives way to several types of mushrooms. Some edible and some not so much. Make sure to pack a book on identifying local mushrooms if you’re considering picking some!
Common puffball (edible mushroom) on the hiking trail to Piatra Bulzului
Wildlife
The second part of the journey takes you through the colorful beech and birch tree forest where you start getting glimpses of the surrounding mountains and hills. During this stretch, some of the slopes can be fairly inclined. You will also be fairly far away from any houses and human activity by this point, so there is a higher chance of encountering wildlife.
I’ve briefly discussed the dangers of wild boars while hiking in north-Transylvania. However, the Blidari region presents a new potential danger, namely Romania’s brown bear. Unfortunately, bear encounters have become more common over the last decades as human settlements continue to encroach on the bear’s habitat. Bears will generally try to avoid humans, so when hiking in bear territory it’s best to make noise and let your presence be known. I would also recommend packing a can of bear spray, just to be on the safe side.
Hiking up the trail
Reaching the top
The final stretch of the journey is marked by the increasing number of rock outcrops peeking out from under the blanket of leaves. As you get closer to the top, the outcrops grow in size and number. You will notice that all of the rocks here are mostly black, with some minor surface weathering. These rocks are basalts that formed during the Neogene volcanism, between 12 and 7 million years ago.
Rock outcrops near the top of the mountain
Before climbing the last narrow stretch up to the top, you can try to look for the hidden grot on the north-side of the cliff. Mind you, it’s not easy to find. When you’re ready, go on ahead and make the final climb along the large rocky outcrop. As you go up, the forest opens up to reveal a breathtaking view. Congratulations, you’ve reached the top of Piatra Bulzului!
South-facing view from Piatra Bulzului, autumn 2014
In the final part of my north-Transylvania series, I will take you on a steam-train ride along the Vișeu valley!
Traditional wooden shacks in Maramureș county, Romania
In my previous post, I talked briefly about “The Park” in Baia Mare city and how it’s a gateway to easily accessible hiking trails. I mentioned that the path northeast, takes you to Roman valley (Valea Romană), which was one of my favorite regions to hike. This will be the focus of today’s post.
The Roman valley
Located about 7 km north of Baia Mare, the Roman valley stretches around 2 km, from east to west along a small river. The valley is flanked by forest covered hills and short-mountains (up to 850 m high). The river flows from the mountains eastwards eventually reaching Lake Firiza. Several hiking paths cross the valley, but the most common one follows the river direction. The main path is fairly wide and can also be crossed by bicycle, motorcycle or ATV. The landscape itself is beautiful and offers a great retreat from urban life, while being relatively close to the city.
Hiking in the Roman valley during February (2013)
Main path during summer, 2015
Mount Igniș (1307 m), viewed from the Roman valley (2014)
Mushroom season
Numerous pastures and fern-covered meadows dot the region and offer the opportune environment for one of the most sought-after edible mushrooms in Europe: the parasol mushroom. The parasol, also known as Macrolepiota procera, is one of the most easily identifiable edible mushrooms. Its cream-colored and brown dotted “scale-like” cap set it apart from other mushrooms species in the region. I am by no means an expert on mushrooms, but I find that the parasol is definitely one of the easiest ones to identify. It’s fairly common throughout European countries and it’s delicious!
Young parasol mushroom in the Roman valley (2014)
The parasol season starts around late-spring, during May and ends in October. Personally, I found that they spring up more during spring and autumn, and less so during the summer. This might be due to the more abundant rain during these periods. This is also the time that you are more likely to see other people walking on the paths, as locals often go mushroom-picking during the high season. You can read more here about how to identify the parasol, as well as some cooking tips!
How to get there
You have two options to get to the Roman valley from Baia Mare city. You can take a car up the 183 county road going northeast from the city. When you reach Lake Firiza, you will want to drive another 2 km (~3 minutes) from the Adventure Lake Resort, until you reach the big bend in the road, with a forest road heading west. There will be a barrier on the road, so you’ll have to leave the car there – don’t worry, there is enough space and everybody does this! Alternatively, you can take a public bus from Baia Mare, to Firiza and get off at the Firiza Lake stop. You’ll have to walk a bit to get to the forest road, so make sure you have a map, or someone with you that knows the area!
Forest road from Roman valley ending in the 183 county road (2013)
A more exciting options to reach the Roman valley, is to hike 6-7 km all the way from the Queen Mary Municipal Park in Baia Mare. You can do this by following Petőfi Sándor street along the park and continuing north up Usturoiul valley. At one point the road turns left just after the last power lines end at a private cabin. At this point you don’t want to continue on the road, as it leads to the village of Ulmoasa. You should instead go straight, following the tight valley going north. You can add to the adventure by having a compass with you to help keep you north-bound! This is kind of an off-the path hike, so don’t worry if it seems like you’re going nowhere. As long as you keep north, you will end up in the Roman valley.
I personally preferred hiking from the city, then following the valley east on the forest road. To get back, I would just take the bus from Lake Firiza to Baia Mare. If you want to extend your trip, you can also take the bus up north to Firiza and spend a night at a cabin. I will talk more about this region in my next post!
Curious dragonfly while hiking in the Roman valley (2015)
Looking back to my journey thus far in life, I can firmly say I have no regret leaving Romania. However, as with most places we leave behind, there are always going to be things we miss. For me, it’s hiking the beautiful regions of north-Transylvania. Specifically, Maramureș county, where I grew up.
Queen Mary Municipal Park, Baia Mare
One of my favorite places in my hometown, Baia Mare, was the Queen Mary Municipal Park situated at the northern tip of the town. I doubt most residents even know the name of the park, I sure didn’t, as we used to just refer to it as “The Park”.
This park itself features a small roman-catholic church by the main entrance, a kids playground and a little train looping inside the park for children to ride on. Additionaly, there is a private tennis-court, a small pond that has been rehabilitated a few years ago and is now full of exotic fish, as well as many walkways and a designated running lane. You can also find a couple of sculptures and statues of famous Romanian poets within the park, like Mihai Eminescu and George Coșbuc. Last, but not least, you can find three restaurants within the park’s confines: OAZIS Philia just by the main entrance, Bastion near the west-entrance and Athos at the heart of the park. Personally, I’ve only ever tried out Athos and the meal was excellent and well-priced. Oh, and they also have some really good ice-cream!
View of Baia Mare city from the west, 2019The little train in Queen Mary Municipal Park, Baia Mare, 2019
My true love for this park, however, comes from how its northern edge seamlessly transitions into the wild forests north of Baia Mare city. There is no fence, no marking, it just simply leads up a hill and then seems to go on forever – a park? or a gateway to freedom and adventure? – You be the judge!
Into the wilds
Following the main trail from the park up the hills you will soon reach a crossroads. To the left you may walk for a short while in the forest before you hit a bunch of residential houses. To the right the trail continues for a good 2-3 km before it end in the valley, at the old Usturoiul Cabin, which unfortunately burned down recently. A third option is to climb straight up the 450m hill atop which sits The Virgin Stone (Piatra Virgină), every local armature climbers go-to place. The hike up to the top can get quite steep at times, but the city-view from up there is completely worthwhile.
Autumn colors in north-Transylvania
I have ventured up the old hill many times in my youth. When I began exploring the wilds of north-Transylvania on my own, I continued on from The Virgin Stone on the path that leads north, up and down the leaf-blanketed hills, surrounded by oak trees and chirping birds. This northern trail goes parallel to the “Usturoiul” valley to the east and the “Valea Roșie” valley to the west. The crisscrossing path eventually leads to either the village of Ulmoasa to the northwest, or the Roman valley (Valea Romană) to the northeast.
Ulmoasa can also be reached via the “Usturoiul” valley on foot, or by bike. No matter which path you take, you will have a wonderful and wild experience. Keep an eye out for wildlife like deer and boars!
Animal-related dangers
You should be cautious of wild boars in the region, especially during spring when they are with young. Wild boars shouldn’t attack unless they feel that they, or their offspring’s are under threat. Personally, I’ve never had any problems with them in all my journeys and even spotted a herd of them once in this region. It is prudent, however, to have a response plan in case you end up in a nasty encounter with boars. You can read more about prevention and behavior during encounters with wild boar here.
One more thing to keep in mind whenever you hike the wilds of north-Transylvania is that meadows are often frequented by sheep herds. That means packs of guard dogs, and the shepherds are not always around, or paying attention. My advice is to keep your distance if you hear the little sheep-bells in the distance. It is best to avoid any unnecessary encounters with the dogs guarding them. Otherwise, pack your water bottle and follow me as we continue our journey through north-Transylvania in the next post!
A bit over 30 years ago, during a snowy winter afternoon in northern Transylvania, Romania, I came into this world. It was a harsh, impoverished world, but the political landscape of Eastern Europe was on the brink of change. A change that would open the gates to the west in the coming decade.
Growing up, I always dreamed of going on adventures and exploring the world. However, the never ending financial difficulties kept me fairly grounded to my little region. During my teens I felt more and more out of place and began bicycling and hiking alone. Sometimes across local hills and mountains, sometimes from town to town. Ever driven by the need to keep going, keep exploring, see new things.
It was this love for new things, as well as the outdoors, which heavily influenced my path when applying for University. Since Public University in Romania is free, it was possible for me to attend even on an extremely tight budget. I ended up a geologist. An exciting and fun career, for sure! Yet, one with very little opportunities in my home country. My mind was already set on leaving by that point. My eyes were on Canada back then. I had family there already; two cousins. Everything was going to be great once I graduated! However, as I would learn many times, things rarely go as planned. Suffice to say, my first attempt to leave Romania was unsuccessful.
The years after my graduation were wrought with difficulties. For a while, I closed myself off from the world in self-reflection. I went back to my solo-walks across hills and mountains, lost in thought, with an ever growing desire to just leave and find my place in the world, to find… a home.
An evening in the Calimani Mountains, Romania (2010)
