The areas of Crişana (north of the Mureş River) and Banat (to the south) have a lively, spiritual autonomy found nowhere else in Romania, driven by their sense of regional identity, ethnic diversity and tangible Habsburg influence. Oradea, Arad and Timişoara were once large military fortresses marking the southeastern extent of Austria-Hungary, while being culturally and politically married to Yugoslavia’s Vojvodina and Hungary’s Great Plain. Following WWI, Crişana and Banat were dealt out to Romania, despite their predominantly Hungarian populations, and even now they have more in common with Subotica (Serbia) and Szeged
(Hungary) than with the rest of Romania. It was in the stylish city of Timişoara that the seeds of the 1989 revolution were sown, a fact that has left these charming and proud people with a scarcely concealed grin. Hungarian and Yugoslav TV have given the region stronger links to the West, evidenced by cutting-edge restaurants, clubs and a forward-looking society.While flaunting three of Romania’s most ‘European’ cities, in both essence and crumbling Habsburg architecture, the regions are also sprinkled with tempting offerings such as the soaring Apuşeni Mountains, ski runs, deep caves, gorges, waterfalls and curative thermal waters.
Zigzag from giddying excitement to recuperative leisure all within a few hours’ drive.

Locals sometimes shake their heads over the ‘Dracula connection’, but there’s no denying a sense of spookiness about this broad, mountainous, culturally rich region, which fills the bulk of Romania’s centre. But really the Dracula thing ( p23 ) is such a small part of a visit here, and you’re likely to forget about it along the way. Saxon towns such as Sighişoara, Sibiu, Cluj-Napoca and Braşov evoke medieval life; all make fine hubs, with hikes, ski runs, horse markets and cute villages within an hour or two. Much of the fun comes from hikes through the interlocking Carpathians (sometimes called the Transylvanian Alps), which
create a U-shape on all of Transylvania’s sides but the north. Skiing is best in the Bucegi Mountains’ Prahova Valley, but outdoors enthusiasts debate what’s best for summer fun –hiking to underground rivers of the Apuseni, rock climbing at Piatra Craiului National Park, biking atop the flat Bucegi plateau, exploring the largely unknown Retezat or hiking the knee-torturing Făgăraş.Transylvania, part of Romania only since 1918, benefits from its diverse ancestors. Saxons occupied southern Transylvanian towns, and most villages you pass are dotted with fortified churches that date back half a millennium. Going an hour north into Székely Land, where ethnic Hungarian communities are the majority, feels like going into a different country. Throughout you’re likely to spot many Roma villagers – identifiable by black cowboy hats on the men and extravagant red dresses on the women – who sometimes usher passers-by in for meals.So much is in Transylvania – it’s no surprise that it’s often the only part of Romania experienced by tourists.

For a country that’s only vaguely known in Europe and all but anonymous to the rest of the world, Moldova has a cultural, political and economic, erm, ‘liveliness’ equalled by few. Regrettably, news briefs that emerge from the region are punctuated by tales of civil war, breakaway republics, organised crime, human trafficking and a curious return to communism.Landlocked and bounded by Romania and Ukraine, with the ethnic divisions to prove it, Moldova has come a long way in a short time and is arguably more advanced than EU-friendly Romania in many respects. The tourism focus is indisputably the country’s wine industry, which produces staggeringly superb varietals and offers winery tours that will vanquish the stoutest of constitutions. Less celebrated are the attractions between the vine-yards: sunflower fields, enormous watermelons, bucolic pastoral lands and the amazinglyfriendly people. Soberer diversions include remote monasteries cut into limestone cliffs and a rural backdrop inhabited by welcoming villagers. What could have been a fascinating ethnic mix went horribly wrong in the early 1990s. The Turkic Gagauz and the Soviet-bent Transdniestr areas recognised the opportunity and declared their respective independences almost simultaneously, which culminated in a bloody civil war. Today, Gagauz maintains a calm truce with Moldova, while the alluringlybizarre Transdniestr region is on the brink of reopening old wounds (see boxed text,  p336 ).While still in contention for the title of Poorest Country in Europe, Moldova’s prices (par-ticularly for accommodation) are unexpectedly high. Coming from Romania, expect to pay about the same for almost everything.

Much of Romania slags it and Europe in general doesn’t always speak favourably of Romania’s capital. They’re all wrong. Its perplexing mismatch of eras – grey housing blocks from Ceauşescu’s brutal rebuilding phase, deliberately French palaces with baroque clam-shaped canopies, (limited) remains of medieval churches and courts, 21st-century office buildings –means that even a short walk around blurs time. Bucharest is home to Romania’s best museums – lots of them – some of which defy limited budgets by illustrating the rural side of Romanian life. Others, like the communist bon voyage Palace of Parliament (the world’s
second-biggest building), show off another era. More importantly, like any great city, Bucharest believes in itself: a lively student base takes over the historic centre’s open-air bar scene, all-age couples attend theatre or opera or foreign-language films kept in their original tongue, and families seeking weekend quiet lounge all day in Bucharest’s (often) well-kept parks. Not what one might expect, considering revolution tore the city apart less than two decades ago. Alas, Bucharest has its problems – taxi scams, glue-sniffing beggars, packs of stray dogs, loud traffic – but it has a heart too. Stick around more than a day – as some visitors flee at first sight – and you start to get it. Bucharest has something going on.