Romania (2): Cozia Monastery and Sibiu

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 26th and 27th of June 2023

It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly,

A Painted Church and a 'Saxon' City

Romania

This post has an unusual structure. Our plan was simple, after lunch on the 26th of June we would drive the 280km from Bucharest to Sibiu, with a single stop at Cozia Monastery in Vâlcea County. After spending the night in Sibiu we would visit Hunedoara and Alba Iulia, returning to Sibiu for a walking tour before dinner. This post covers the afternoon and evening of the 26th and the evening of the 27th, The next post, Romania (3), will cover Hunedoara and Alba Iulia.

We would drive northwest from Bucharest, pause at Cozia Monastery in Vâlcea County, then continue to Sibiu

26-June-2023

Bucharest to Cozia Monastery

Cozia Monastey is 200km from Bucharest, and Google says the journey should take 3 hours. We left Bucharest around 1.15 and for a couple of hours we happily bowled along through rural Romania.

Speeding through rural Romania

Then we reached the end of a tailback. The traffic was slow-moving and, as Vlad listened carefully to the traffic updates on the radio, it became no-moving. We stopped for coffee and to make a plan. An accident had closed the road several kilometres ahead, there was no convenient alternative route, but if we backtracked a little, we could detour round it.

It was a lengthy detour, along roads which may have been minor, but were large enough and well maintained. We passed through open countryside, small towns…

I am not sure what this place is called, but it has an impressive church

…and rural villages.

Detouring through rural Romania

Vlad was frequently driving in a convoy of cars following the same route for the same reason.

Vlad and his convoy

Cozia Monastery

Vâlcea County

Eventually we entered Vâlcea County, arriving at the monastery an hour later than Google had predicted.

The monastery was founded in 1388 beside the River Olt, a little north of the small town of Călimănești on the edge of what is today the Cozia National Park. The name ‘Cozia,’ meaning 'walnut grove,' is derived from the Cuman language of the Golden Horde, who reached this area around 1300.

Holy Trinity Church...

Holy Trinity, Cozia, with the monastery behind and around

…. is partly surrounded by the monastery buildings which include the last remaining Byzantine cloister in Romania.

Part of the Monastery complex, Cozia

Mircea the Elder

Both Church and Monastery were founded by Mircea cel Bătrân (Mircea the Elder) who from 1355-1418 was Voivode (military ruler/warlord) of Walachia (the area that is now south-central Romania). Mircea - incidentally, the grandfather of Vlad Tepeş (Dracula) - fought, largely successfully, to keep Walachia free from the expanding Ottoman Empire. Shortly after his death, the Ottomans succeeded in establishing suzerainty over Walachia and maintained it (off and on) until 1856 when Walachia joined Moldavia to form the first Principality, later Kingdom, of Romania.

The church, including the façade before the veranda was built in 1707, was decorated in Serbian Moravian style (stone rosettes, horizontal rows of brick and stone, vertical frames) rather than Walachian. Mircea cel Bătrân is assumed to have employed Serbian craftsmen.

Cozia Church rear view showing Serbian decorations and a brâncovenesc tower

The church saw some rebuilding in 1517 and was remodelled in 1707, with a veranda, fountain and watchtower in brâncovenesc style. For the many (including me) who have never heard of ‘brâncovenesc style’ (also known as Walachian Renaissance), it blends mainstream European Renaissance styles with the Islamic architecture of the dominant Ottoman Empire. It is named for Prince Constantin Brâncoveanu, an enthusiastic builder of palaces and churches, who ruled Walachia 1688 - 1714.

Cozia Church Veranda

Frescos

The glory of the church, though, is not in its external architecture but in its frescos, the oldest dating back to the 1390s. The service in progress inside the church, hampered our ability to wander round taking photographs. There were also ‘no photographing’ signs which I would happily ignore if not being watched. It does no harm, provided you do not use flash, but modern cameras have no problem with the ambient light. As proof here is a 5 second video (yes, it is that short) of the Romanian Orthodox service in the church.

We could look as closely as we liked at the frescos in the veranda. Vlad interpreted them for us, reading from right to left, At the time, I could not follow everything he said, and trying to make sense of it now (few of my posts are written promptly after the events described) I am bewildered.

There is no doubt the subject matter is The Judgement. The Holy Trinity – the church is dedicated to the Holy Trinity – sit over the door and are clearly there to sort sheep from goats.

The Holy Trinity above the door into the church

Traditionally the unfavoured go to God’s left, and here we can clearly see souls being marched off naked into hell. Centre stage, where clothes are removed there is a person of importance, a king maybe, desperately trying to hang on to his dignity and his staff of office.

Veranda fresco to the right of the door into the church

But how do souls reach the throne to be judged? Vlad suggested they come up from the right, but the general direction of movement appears to be down. Looking more closely, it is tempting to interpret the region just above the large downward path as being a trans-warp corridor in which the righteous are swept up by an Archimedes screw of tetryon particles from purgatory to the presence of the Almighty. (Can I also see the signature G Roddenbury in the bottom right-hand corner?)

A closer look at the central section

The left is even more confusing. A garden, perhaps with fruit trees. is being enjoyed by the Trinity and a few chosen souls at a respectful distance. Those men (I think they are all men) not destined for the fiery pit are supplied with haloes and allowed to look down onto the garden. Christians who still believe in hell are reasonably clear on the torments involved, but no mainstream church has ever come up with a believable description of the delights of heaven, possibly because every activity humans enjoy has been denounced as sinful by one group or another over the centuries. This, though, is the least inspiring vision of heaven I could imagine, short of clouds and harps. 

Veranda fresco left of the door

Cozia to Sibiu

Leaving Cozia around 6, we continued north, the road joining the River Olt just above a dam. The Olt is the longest river entirely within Romania, flowing 600km south from the Hășmaș Mountains to the Danube on the Romanian/Bulgarian border.

The River Olt

For a time, we enjoyed the countryside and farming techniques that have longed died out in western Europe

Older farming techniques

Sibiu is 80km from Cozia, but Google suggests the journey takes an hour and forty minutes. Clearly, they knew about the traffic problems. …

Slow progress on the road to Sibiu

…but severly underestimated the length of the delay. We reached Sibiu around 9 o’clock.

Sibiu

Some History

Sibiu (county)

Sibiu City

Sibiu has a population of 135,00 and is the administrative centre of its eponymous county. In moving from Vâlcea into Sibiu County we had also left Walachia and entered Transylvania. Walachia and Moldavia had formed the new Principality of Romania as the Ottoman Empire weakened in the late 19th century. Transylvania, though, remained part of the still robust Austro-Hungarian Empire. It was not until World War I put end to both empires that Transylvania became the third major part of Romania.

In the 12th and 13th centuries the Hungarian kings invited Germanic settlers to help defend their southeastern border against the Cumans and later the Ottomans. These people became known as the Transylvanian Saxons, though they were not all from Saxony. By the middle of the 19th century, Transylvania’s ethnic mix was 60% Romanian, 25% Hungarian and 10% Transylvanian Saxon.

The Hungarians were a land owning elite, the Germans, professionals and artisans, formed a largely urban middle and upper middle class while the Romanians toiled in the fields. This view is supported by the 1850 census which found the city of Sibiu ( then  capital of the Principality of Transylvania) was home to 2,089 Romanians, 977 Hungarians and 8,790 Germans. Sibiu was effectively a small German city and was generally known as Hermannstadt.

Sibiu Today

The outskirts of Sibiu are unremarkable, but pleasant enough, mercifully lacking the worst of the dwelling blocks thrown up by all communist governments.

The centre is different, a delightful old German city that is somehow obviously not in Germany. We checked in to our hotel which stood, almost unsigned on a lane rising beside the road.

Our hotel is on the little lane rising to the left

We took our luggage up to our room, I unlocked the door and stepped forward without looking. An unexpected sensation of falling was my first indication that the room was four steps below corridor level. For a very long second or so I ran flat out, as my feet attempted to catch up with my toppling torso. To my surprise and relief, I made it by the fourth step and continued, largely in control, to a relatively gentle collision with the wall opposite. Well that woke me up, after an hour sitting in a traffic jam.

A few minutes later, we were walking up to the centre to find some dinner. Sibiu was European City of Culture in 2007, and has rather developed a taste for it…

2007 European City of Culture drain cover

…and we had arrived during the annual arts festival. The big central square was surrounded by restaurants and at 9.30 empty tables were rare. We toured round until we spotted one and sat quickly, heedless of the menu. It had been a long day and this was not the time for gastronomy, Lynne had chicken and chips and I had chicken pie of sorts. Large restorative beers seemed important..

Chicken and Chips, Sibiu

Afterwards we walked round the square, enjoying the atmosphere and viewing an installation involving birdseed that was so far incomplete. A mirror wall stood across the end of the square ...

The mirror across the main square, Sibiu

...so we photographed ourselves.

27-Jun-2023

Sibiu, The City with Eyes

The following morning we set out to visit Hunedoara and Alba Iulia, and that is the subject of the next post.

We did not have time to look around yesterday, but as we walked to Vlad’s car, he mentioned that Sibiu is known as The City with Eyes. Their purpose is to ventilated the attic, but some see them as narrowed and suspicious, and they have featured in an anticorruption drive: ‘Sibiu is watching you’ To me they look relaxed and sleepy.

Sibiu, The City with Eyes

On our return Vlad conducted a walking tour. Sibiu had a population of 12,000 on 1850, today it has ten times as many.  The city has spread across the plain but 150 years ago, the much smaller and largely German speaking population lived either in the Lower Town, if they were artisans and traders, or the Upper Town if they were wealthy merchants. Longer ago, in wilder times, the upper town had been a fortified citadel

Yesterday we had walked up the gently graded road, this time we used the stairs. From the top we had a fine view down into the Lower Town.

Sibiu, Lower Town

At the top was the Casa Cafelor, the House of Journeymen. Built in the 16th century it was a Guild House for the Guild of Hatters.

Casa Calefor, Sibiu

From there we crossed the Bridge of Lies to the Upper Town’s Small Square (Piața Mică).

On the Bridge of Lies

Many legends surround the name, mostly involving those who tell untruths - whether merchants or lovers – being lobbed over the parapet (see Wikipedia: Bridge of Lies). None of them are true, it is the bridge that lies, but only across the gap below.

There is a nice collection of sleepy eyes on the left of the picture, while the tower on the right is Sibiu’s Council Tower situated between the Small Square and Great Square (Piața Mare). Originally built in the 12th century but often reconstructed, it has had many uses but is today an exhibition space.

Nearby the Casa Luxembourg Hotel has an elaborate 17th century façade.

Casa Luxembourg

The Holy Trinity Catholic Church is tucked into a corner of Great Square. It is relatively modest, but I blame the Art’s Festival boarding for my poor photograph.

Roman Catholic Church Sibiu

Inside, the church maintains an ornate dinginess, which I imagine may have been learnt during the Ceaușescu years.

Roman Catholic Church, Sibiu

I did like the pulpit, though.

Pulpit, Sibiu catholic church

Dinner in the Tower

Our walking tour drew to close at this point, but less than an hour later we were in La Turn (The Tower) Restaurant, recommended by Vlad, which is not in a tower, but does have entrances on both Small and Great Squares.

La Turn, Sibiu

We started with ţuică, a plum brandy which, like its cousin slivovitz, is drunk as an aperitif.

Lynne chose a Greek salad, while I went for the Peasant Platter - I know my place.

Peasant Platter

According to the menu’s translation peasants eat pork tenderloin, polenta, egg-eye, bellows and pickled cucumber. Polenta is a Romanian staple, egg-eye was obviously fried egg, and for pickled cucumber read gherkins, but bellows? ‘Burduf’ the word on the Romanian menu literally means bellows, as in equipment for blowing air not being shouty. It is also, apparently, a cheese made in Brasov from fresh sheep or buffalo milk cheese which is salted and kneaded. It was a good, hearty platter and I enjoyed it.

Lunch over, Vlad drove north towards Sibiu and the next post

Romania

Romania: An Introduction
Part 1 Bucharest
Part 2 Cozia Monastery and Sibiu

East Sussex (4) Rottingdean and The Devil's Dyke

A Seaside Village and a Geological Oddity

Although we now live 220 miles apart, I have seen more of my sister Erica in the last few years than for a long time. That is good, I enjoy her company and that of Peter, her new(ish) husband. We went to stay for a few days and this post covers the places we visited.

East Sussex

Peter and Erica live in Heathfield, pretty much in the centre of East Sussex. On previous visits we have explored the east of the county (links at end of post), this time we looked west. Lewes (next post), the County Town of East Sussex can be seen on the map southwest of Heathfield and continuing in the same direction brings you to the coast at Rottingdean

The County of East Sussex
Heathfield to Rottingdean is approximately 25 miles (40 km)

The map misleadingly shows Brighton and Hove as discrete dots. They are much larger than that and in 1997 were combined as a single unitary authority. In January 2001 they became the City of Brighton and Hove. By far the largest population centre in East Sussex, the city has 275,00 citizens and occupies the whole south west corner of the county, encompassing Portslade, Patcham and Rottingdean.

Rottingdean

Brighton & Hove

In the Kingdom of the South Saxons (now ‘Sussex’) in the late 5th century CE a group of Saxons following a man called Rota settled near the coast at the end of a dry valley, probably displacing the previous Romano-British inhabitants. The dean (valley) of the people of Rota had become Rotingeden in the Domesday Book (1086) and tried out various spellings over subsequent centuries before settling on Rottingdean. Yes, they had choices, and the chose Rottingdean!

Despite its name, Rottingdean is a pretty village in the local style…

Rottingdean

…with vernacular buildings of various ages sitting harmoniously together, though perhaps not looking their best on a cold, blustery February day.

Rottingdean

The main street ends at the beach where a seething, angry sea with an evident desire to invade the land, was thwarted only by a vicious undertow.

Rottingdean Beach

An undercliff path heads off to Brighton Marina, 3km away, and on a better day….

Rottingdean Undercliff Walk

The Grange

But it was not a better day so we headed inland. Rottingdean has more than just vernacular architecture, The Grange was built to replace the existing vicarage in the mid-1700s.

The Grange, Rottingdean

The Reverend Thomas Hooker lived here from 1792 to 1838. A popular and charismatic figure, he established the first village school and supported his parishioners in any way he could. Tea and brandy were highly taxed, and after a bad harvest the poor could make enough money to survive by smuggling these commodities into the country for the benefit if their richer neighbours. The Rev Hooker acted as an outrider for the local smuggling gang.

The Grange passed into private hands in the late 1800s, just as Rottingdean was becoming an artistic colony. In 1920 the owners employed Sir Edwyn Lutyens to enlarge and remodel the house, and Gertrude Jekyll to redesign the garden.

In 1992, a charity now called Rottingdean Heritage took over The Grange and maintain the building as a local museum. Unfortunately, the museum is closed on a Tuesday, but I am assured it is excellent on other days of the week.

St Margaret's Church

Built on the site of an earlier Saxon church, St Margaret’s dates from around 1400 with a heavy makeover by Sir George Gilbert Scott in 1856. Like many churches locally and elsewhere in south east England it is built of flint with a stone dressing.

St Margaret's Rottingdean

The church is not particularly memorable, inside or out….

St Margaret's Interior

… except for the stained-glass windows designed by Edward Burne-Jones and built by William Morris. 

William Morris/Edward Burne-Jones stained glass

Burne-Jones was among the first artists to move to Rottingdean, and his ashes are interred in St Margaret’s cemetery, as are those of his wife Georgiana. Georgiana was one of the four remarkable Macdonald sisters; Alice was the mother of Rudyard Kipling, Agnes was a talented pianist and married Edward Poynter, later President of the Royal Academy, and Louisa was a writer and the mother of future prime minster Stanley Baldwin. What they could have achieved in their own right if women were less constrained can only be guessed at.

Peter, who has a wide musical taste and knowledge, was keen to tell us that Gary Moore is also buried here. Who he? I asked. Gary Moore (1953-2011) was an Irish blues/jazz/rock guitarist who might have achieved more success if he had decided which sort of music he wanted to play. He worked with Phil Lynott and was best known for repeatedly joining and then leaving Thin Lizzy.

Edward Burne-Jones and Rudyard Kipling

In 1880 Edward and Georgiana Burne-Jones brought Prospect House, the left-hand property of the trio below as a holiday home. Shortly afterwards they bought Aubrey Cottage, the middle dwelling, knocked the two together and renamed them North End House. They divided their time between Rottingdean and London until Burne-Jones died in 1898. Georgiana died in 1920, and in 1923 the new owners of North End House, Sir Roderick Jones and his wife, novelist Enid Bagnold, added Gothic Cottage on the right to the other two.

North End House, Rottingdean

They are now separate properties again with the former Gothic Cottage inappropriately named North End House.

In 1897, their nephew, Rudyard Kipling moved to Rottingdean and rented The Elms, a difficult house to photograph.

The Elms, Rottingdean

Kipling’s Garden is lovingly tended by volunteers...

Kipling's Garden, Rottingdean

… and is adjacent to Rottingdean Croquet club. I know of no other village with a croquet club.

Rottingdean Croquet Club

In 1902 the Kiplings moved to Batemans, some 30 miles away, where they spent the rest of their lives. Batemans features in East Sussex (2): Batemans, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington.

Those who looked closely at the photos (i.e. almost nobody) might have noticed the walls in the churchyard, Kipling's Garden and several ordinary houses. Such walls are common in these parts but I have not seen anything quite like them elsewhere - perhaps they are unique to Sussex.

A closer look at a Sussex wall

The Devil’s Dyke

West Sussex

Mid Sussex District

Driving north and west around Brighton and Hove brought us to the Devil’s Dyke, just over the boundary into West Sussex. The South Downs are a range of low, rounded chalk hills stretching across East and West Sussex and into Hampshire. 1,627 km² (628 sq miles) of these hills were designated a National Park in 2010. Earlier national parks consisted of rugged terrain, but the South Downs are welcoming, well-mannered hillsides, as would be expected in the genteel south east of England.

The South Downs National Park with Brighton & Hove and the Devil's Dyke Marked
Map by Nilfanion using OS OpenData

The Devil’s Dyke Today

The road climbs onto a scarp, not quite at the southern edge of the downs. There was drizzle in the air and a cold blustery wind, so we moved swiftly from car to pub (the Devil’s Dyke, obviously) where we a light lunch seemed appropriate.

Then we had to face the rigours of sight-seeing. Looking down the scarp, there should be (I think) a view all the way to the sea, but not today.

Looking towards the sea, though visibility was limited

The Devil’s Dyke itself is a steep sided dry valley on the other side of the scarp. It may not be the Grand Canyon, but it is a fair sized hole.

The Devil's Dyke

Given that the surrounding hills are not of great height and scarps are only of moderate steepness what happened here? The official answer is that it dates from the end of the last ice age, but was created by meltwater running over saturated chalk rather than carved by ice. The thaw-freeze cycle as the world began to warm reduced the chalk to mush and the meltwater swept it away. That sounds convincing, but the whole of the South Downs is made of chalk, if it happened here, why did it not happen everywhere and level the hills?

The Devil’s Dyke 120 Years Ago

Game hunter and traveller H.J. Hubbard bought the Dyke Estate in 1892. The London, Brighton and South Coast Railway had built a branch line from Hove to the foot of the scarp in 1887, so he decided to turn Devil’s Dyke into what may have been the world’s first theme park.

He built a camera obscura, fairground rides, an observatory, two bandstands and more. The venture was phenomenally successful and on August Bank Holiday 1893, 30,000 people visited the Dyke.

In 1894 Hubbard opened the country’s first cable car to allow visitors to swing from one side of the dyke to the other 200ft above the valley floor. Three years later he added a funicular railway down into the dyke.

Funicular Railway, Devil's Dyke (Public Domain)

Success is ever ephemeral. In 1909 both the cable car and funicular railway ceased operation. Now there are just concrete footings to be seen and the remains of some of the amusements

Some of Hubbard's remains

The Devil’s Dyke Folk Lore

As I do not fully understand the geological creation of the dyke (my fault, not doubt), here is an alternative story. In the late 7th century, long after Rota had become established in his dean, the Kingdom of Sussex converted to Christianity. Being the last of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms to convert, it caused the Devil much heartache. He decided to dig a channel from the sea to the heart of Sussex and drown its inhabitants.

Seeing the Devil making steady progress with his scheme, the holy hermit Cuthman of Steyning approached the Devil with a wager. If the Devil could complete his channel in one night, he could have Cuthman’s soul, if not he would go away and leave Sussex in peace.

St Cuthman of Steyning, by Penny Reeve (2000)
Photo:NeddySeagoon, used under Creative Commons

The Devil set to with a will, his mighty spade throwing up the surrounding hills, Chanctonbury Ring, Firle Beacon (see East Sussex (2)) and more while one spectacular heave sent the land that is now the Isle of Wight spinning into the sea. Cuthman bided his time. At midnight he lit a candle and placed it in his window, thus persuading the local cockerels that dawn had arrived. They started crowing, and the Devil, thinking he had lost his wager, threw down his shovel and stalked off for a massive sulk.

That is not very convincing, I struggle to believe the Devil was that easy to fool. If you click on Kanyakumari, my post about the southernmost town of India, you will find the story of Shiva being tricked out of marriage by the same device. Folk tales have a charming naivety, but finding very similar stories from so far apart, maybe tells us something about human nature.

Two humps in the bottom of the valley are said to be the graves of the Devil and his wife (who knew he was married?) Encouraging as it might be to know that the Devil is dead, the bad news is that he would be brought to life should anyone run backward five times round the humps while holding their breath. I don’t think I’ll fret about it.

That was enough sight-seeing in this weather; we got into a nice warm car, and Peter drove us back to Heathfield.

East Sussex

Part 1:Bodiam and Rye (2020)
Part 2:Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington (2021)
Part 3: Battle and Hastings (2021)
Part 4: Rottingdean and The Devil's Dyke
Part 5: Lewes and Charleston (coming soon)