Walking through Bran Castle reminded me of the Baltit Fort in Hunza, Pakistan. Both places had a similar mysterious aura and a deep sense of history carved into their walls.
By Abdullah Usman Morai | Sweden
The Journey to Sinaia and Stories on the Road
As the tour guide introduced himself, he told us his name was Petres Anton. What was particularly noteworthy was how fluent and effortless his English was. He began by outlining the day’s schedule—where we’d be going, how much time we’d spend at each location, where lunch would be, and other details.
As our bus departed Bucharest, we noticed the roads were already bustling with traffic, slowing our progress. Anton explained that the city of Bucharest has a population of around two million people, yet the number of registered vehicles exceeds six million, an average of three cars per person. That explained the heavy traffic and bumper-to-bumper driving.
Moving further, our vehicle passed beneath a grand triumphal arch at a large roundabout, similar in design to the famous Champs-Élysées in Paris. This monument, known as the Triumphal Arch, was built to commemorate Romania’s victory in the First World War. A short distance ahead, a massive building reflecting Russian architectural influence came into view. It resembled the one I had seen in Warsaw, Poland. In about an hour and a quarter, we exited the city limits. In the distance, the sky and the jagged peaks of mountains appeared to blend seamlessly into one another.
To stretch our legs and refresh ourselves, the bus stopped at a petrol station in the Cornu Podu Vadului area. We were given ten to fifteen minutes. It seemed this was their regular practice—to take a break every hour or so, allowing passengers to relax. Anton admitted he was a chain smoker, so he was quite content with these stops as they gave him the chance to take a few uninterrupted drags.
As the journey resumed, so did Anton’s storytelling. He was a man of tales, sharing jokes in English, riddles, and anecdotes. When we passed through the charming mountain town of Comarnic, he began recounting early memories of his relationship with his wife. He told us that before they got married, they spent time getting to know each other. One day, she suddenly told him to get ready—she was taking him to meet her parents. That very evening, they had visited her family, who lived across the valley from the town. Her parents had expressed joy upon meeting him, and not long after that, they were married. Anton shared that they now have a daughter, whom he described as their entire universe.
He also shared a poignant story from his post-marriage visits to his wife’s village. There, he once met her uncle, who had served in the Romanian army—possibly during the First or Second World War. One day, during a meal, the uncle quietly placed a piece of bread in his pocket. Anton found this behavior puzzling until his father-in-law explained: During wartime, soldiers never knew if they’d have access to food. As a result, they developed a habit of saving bread in their pockets, just in case. Even after the war, this trauma lingered—an ingrained fear that food might suddenly become scarce again.
It truly makes one reflect: wars are not simple events. Nations suffer deeply from them, and their psychological impacts can echo for generations.
Still immersed in these thoughts, we heard Anton announce that we had arrived in Sinaia—a beautiful mountain town and our first tourist stop on this journey. We had about an hour and a quarter to explore the Peleș Castle and the valley nestled in the Carpathian Mountains. All the tourists disembarked from the bus and followed Anton toward the castle, walking together through the serene and scenic surroundings.
The Castle, the Kind Stranger, and the Road to Brașov – A Day of Beauty and Kindness in Romania
Although the inner chambers of the castle were closed, the parts that were open to visitors were enough to captivate us. Nestled in a stunning mountain valley, the castle offered views that were simply breathtaking—above us stretched a blue sky dotted with a few white clouds, below which rose lush green hills, and nestled among them stood the castle itself. It was a picture-perfect scene—absolutely mesmerizing.
Our guide, Anton, spent about 15 to 20 minutes explaining the history of the castle. Then he told us to return to the same spot where the bus had dropped us off at a designated time. This wasn’t just an ordinary fort—it was more like a grand palace from a bygone era. Sculptures of people and lions adorned various parts of the structure. Everything was impeccably clean, and the air was refreshingly crisp.
After exploring the castle and its surroundings, we slowly made our way back toward the bus. Along the way, we came across an elderly man selling fridge magnets stuck to a small board. We wanted to buy some, but he only accepted Romanian coins—which we didn’t have. Just then, another elderly Romanian man happened to walk by. He overheard our conversation, pulled out a few coins from his pocket, and handed them to the vendor so we could buy the magnets.
Our intention had been to support the seller through our small purchase, and this kind Romanian gentleman shared that intention. He didn’t offer charity—he helped by enabling a sale. We tried to repay him, but he kindly refused to accept anything from us. That day, he became the quiet hero—the one who helped everyone and simply walked away.
That magnet still decorates my fridge. Every time I see it, I’m reminded of this little episode, and it fills me with warmth. It’s heartening to know that such kind and beautiful people still exist—people who are remembered for small gestures that are, in truth, not small at all. If someone can make a lasting impression on your heart and bring a smile to your face just by being themselves, that is no ordinary thing.
May God bless us with such grace, too, that when people think of us, they smile. Ameen.
We arrived at the bus pickup spot, where a few others were already waiting. The bus hadn’t returned yet, so we used the opportunity to explore the area a bit more and took some memorable photos. Gradually, the rest of the tourists arrived, and the bus started to fill up—except for one person who was still missing.
Although Anton had clearly warned that the bus would leave on time and wouldn’t wait for latecomers, people rarely take such warnings seriously. After a short wait, we finally saw a middle-aged female tourist running toward the bus. As soon as she got on board, she apologized to everyone for the delay. And with that, our journey resumed.
Our next destination was the enchanting Transylvanian Valley, where more beautiful sites awaited us.
Soon, we left Sinaia and joined the main highway. The view through the bus window was unforgettable: above us, the sky remained a soft blue with scattered white clouds; beneath it, towering mountains densely covered with forest lined both sides of the road. The road itself was well-maintained, with dedicated paths for pedestrians and cyclists, and orderly streetlights positioned for nighttime illumination. There were even designated parking areas for vehicles.
After passing through Sinaia, we got a glimpse of several charming towns—Bușteni, Azuga, Predeal, and Săcele. Around noon, we reached the city of Brașov. Entering the city gave us a refreshing and positive feeling, as though the air itself welcomed us.
Since it was lunchtime, Anton briefed us on Romanian traditional cuisine—quite an extensive list! We learned that soups play a major role in their everyday meals. The bus dropped us near a central parking area in the old part of the city. Anton walked with us for a bit, explained some highlights, and reminded us of the meeting time before leaving us to explore on our own.
All the tourists fanned out in different directions, each eager to explore. My travel companion, Ada Jan, and I also set out to discover the city. The old town lay nestled beneath a hillside. It was peaceful, charming, and very clean.
The old city streets were paved with large cobblestones. Both sunlight and beauty filled the air. Most of the buildings were no more than three or four stories tall. The main pedestrian street—called Republic Street—was lined on both sides with restaurants, cafés, and souvenir shops. Many of the restaurants had set up tables and chairs right in the middle of the street, shaded by large umbrellas to protect diners from the sun or rain.
It was lunchtime, and the streets were bustling with people. We, too, decided to pause for a quick bite and stepped into a McDonald’s. Anton joined us briefly to satisfy his hunger before heading off again. We couldn’t help but chuckle at the contrast between the elaborate list of restaurants he had recited on the bus earlier and where he actually ended up eating. We wondered whether he even liked those places or had just listed them for our benefit.
The real reason people often choose McDonald’s while traveling is simple—familiarity. When time is short, knowing exactly what to order helps save time for exploring rather than menu browsing. After our quick meal, we returned to Republic Street and resumed our walk. Occasionally, we sat on the wooden benches along the road to catch our breath and rest our legs.
As we wandered, we arrived at Council Square, which was buzzing with people. The square was quite spacious, surrounded by beautiful buildings painted in charming colors. Several restaurants were packed with diners, and one of the buildings featured a large clock tower, said to help remind locals to reach work on time. We captured some memorable photos there.
Behind the old town, high up on a hill, large white letters spelled out the city’s name—Brașov. The sign was visible from nearly every corner. We browsed a few shops along Republic Street and picked up some souvenirs. A glance at the clock reminded us that it was almost time to return to the bus, so we began walking back.
By the time we reached the bus, some fellow travelers were already there, chatting with Anton and sharing what they had eaten. Anton smiled as we approached, and we smiled back—he knew exactly where we had eaten. Soon, everyone was on the bus—except one familiar face: the same woman who had delayed us earlier in Sinaia. Around twenty minutes later, we saw her again—this time running toward the bus in a brand-new outfit! Apparently, she’d gone shopping during the tour, changed into the clothes she liked, and only then returned.
She greeted everyone with an apologetic “Sorry!” as she climbed aboard, while some amused tourists joked that she now deserved a fine. Everyone laughed. While humor softened the moment, it was a reminder that punctuality is essential on group trips—especially when traveling solo in a foreign land. Respecting others’ time matters. That said, it also felt a bit harsh to consider leaving someone behind just for a fifteen- or twenty-minute delay in an unfamiliar place.
I had quietly resolved that if Anton insisted on leaving, I would ask him to wait just a bit longer so she wouldn’t be stranded. Thankfully, Anton was a sensible man, and things worked out smoothly. Our journey continued without further delay.
A gentle drowsiness settled in the bus. Ada Jan dozed off, and I, too, took short naps here and there. Ever since we arrived in Bucharest on the first day, we had been on the move constantly, so a bit of rest during the drive was much needed.
Before long, we arrived in the town of Bran—our final stop for the day. The highlight here was Bran Castle, famously associated with the legend of Dracula. We had already booked our tickets online, anticipating the crowd. As expected, the area was busy, with numerous tour buses parked nearby. We disembarked and began walking toward the castle. The scenery was once again mountainous and beautiful.
The exterior of the castle, with its natural surroundings and forested charm, was breathtaking. Since we didn’t have much time, we quickly scanned our tickets and moved inside. The castle, completed in 1377, is one of the most iconic landmarks of the Transylvania region and now serves as a national monument. Inside, it functions as a museum displaying antique furniture and relics from centuries past.
As we explored the castle’s winding hallways and interconnected rooms, we spotted statues representing eerie characters—likely referencing the Dracula mythos. The castle, perched atop a hill, offered sweeping views of the surrounding countryside from its balconies and open windows. There were also narrow, hidden staircases—perhaps used in ancient times for secretive movements.
Walking through Bran Castle reminded me of the Baltit Fort in Hunza, Pakistan. Both places had a similar mysterious aura and a deep sense of history carved into their walls.
The location of the castle was certainly perfect. Its towers presented an even more stunning view. Due to the crowd, people were slowly moving ahead. We overheard many people commenting that the castle was much more famous than it actually was. Both Ada Jan and I agreed that the castle was, in fact, “overrated.” However, since we had already purchased the tickets, we decided to go ahead with the visit. The view from the castle, looking down at the surrounding hills, was breathtakingly beautiful. There were rooms in the castle designated for sleeping, sitting, and dining. In the castle’s courtyard, there was a well, and along the walls, vines were growing, adding to its charm.
After exploring the castle, we headed down and visited the souvenir shops nearby. Most of the shops were run by women, and judging by the number of shops, it seemed that in the summer, when the tourist season was in full swing, the place would be packed with visitors. We quickly made our way back to the bus, where all the tourists were already seated—except for that same woman who arrived a little late again.
Our departure from Bran was delayed when a herd of sheep blocked our path. The bus had to stop while the shepherd guided them off the road. Watching the sheep cross the road, I couldn’t help but smile, as it was a unique sight.
We followed the same route back and reached University Square at 8:00 PM. We clapped to thank Anton and the bus driver for their kindness. When I got off the bus, I asked Anton two questions: First, whether she would have a Swedish Krona in the tip. He replied enthusiastically, “Yes, definitely! I’ll also have some Japanese yen.” Second, I asked him how his English was so good, almost as if it were his native language. He explained, “I studied at the English Grammar School in Romania, where we weren’t given homework on essays or math problems. Instead, they focused on encouraging us to watch English movies as homework, and that’s why my English is so good.” Anton and I followed each other on Instagram.
Once we got off the bus, we decided to continue our exploration on foot. We thought we should have dinner now and head back to the hotel so we wouldn’t have to return later. We entered a restaurant and asked if the food was halal. They assured us it was. We sat down to enjoy our meal. The restaurant had some Hebrew (or possibly Yiddish) writings on the walls, so we assumed it might be a Jewish establishment that served kosher food, which is also halal. After finishing our meal, we enjoyed the night views of Bucharest, bought a few souvenirs, and continued walking until we reached our hotel.
At the hotel, we had some tea, chatted, and laughed. It was our last night in Bucharest. We had flights early in the morning, so we had already booked a taxi for 03:00 AM to take us to the airport. From Bucharest, two flights were leaving—one to London and the other to Stockholm.
Thanks to the almighty who showed us some other parts of the world he had created, our journey was an unforgettable experience. (Concludes)
Click here for Part-1
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Abdullah Soomro, penname Abdullah Usman Morai, hailing from Moro town of Sindh, province of Pakistan, is based in Stockholm Sweden. Currently he is working as Groundwater Engineer in Stockholm Sweden. He did BE (Agriculture) from Sindh Agriculture University Tando Jam and MSc water systems technology from KTH Stockholm Sweden as well as MSc Management from Stockholm University. Beside this he also did masters in journalism and economics from Shah Abdul Latif University Khairpur Mirs, Sindh. He is author of a travelogue book named ‘Musafatoon’. His second book is in process. He writes articles from time to time. A frequent traveler, he also does podcast on YouTube with channel name: VASJE Podcast.
