CHAPTER II

Hazy ideas about Roumania--“Bucarest, Turkey”--A letter for Sinaia goes to Simla--The physical features of the country--Its mineral wealth--The chief towns--The Cernavoda Bridge--The railways and the scenery through which they pass--The mighty Danube--The Iron Gates.

In the preceding chapter I have given some indication of how little was known of Roumania a quarter of a century ago, but it is still more astonishing to find in these days of enlightenment what hazy ideas people in this country have about the land and its inhabitants.

I received a letter once addressed to “Bucarest, Turkey.” Staying for a few weeks one summer at Sinaia, a letter was sent to me from England addressed simply “Sinaia.” When it reached me some months later, the envelope was a curiosity. I still keep it as a proof of the perseverance of post-office officials. It bears the post-marks of Italy, Switzerland, Turkey--and, all these failing, it had been despatched to Simla!

I cannot say that when at school I found geography the fascinating study which it really is; but that was due to the method of teaching. There was no attempt made by the instructor to capture the youthful imagination; the teacher had never ventured abroad, and was destitute of the stimulus which travel gives.

During my long residence I visited most parts of Roumania, some of them over and over again, and I think I may justly claim to have a very good knowledge of the country, of its physical features, its resources, and all the other information which one may find set forth, for the most part uninterestingly, in the geography books. It is only right that our ideas of Roumania should now assume more definite and reliable shape, and I think that interest is at last being awakened regarding our brave little ally and all concerning her. I sincerely hope to interest my readers in the Roumanian people, and--though I am aware that I run a risk of becoming a little tedious--I feel it my duty to supply at the outset a slight sketch of the country which they inhabit.

The area of Roumania before the war was about equal to that of England, but its population was less than that of London.

At that time the northern boundaries were Transylvania, Bukovina, and Bessarabia, whilst it was bounded on the west by Serbia.

Now Transylvania has been absorbed, and the northern boundaries of Roumania are formed by the Dniester and the frontiers of Galicia and Czecho-Slovakia. The western boundaries are Hungary and Jugo-Slavia.

Roumania is now, as hitherto, bounded on the east by the Black Sea and on the south by Bulgaria.

The rivers, of which there are several, take their rise in the Carpathians, and after traversing the country empty themselves into the Danube. These rivers are mostly very shallow, and half dry during the summer. Very few of them are navigable--indeed, only the Pruth, the Bistritza, and the mighty Danube,--of which more hereafter. The rivers are well stocked with many varieties of fish, the sturgeon, carp, salmon, pike, and perch being the most important. I think I have sampled every kind of fish these waters have to offer, and I may here mention the Roumanian grey caviar, which is coarse-grained, when contrasted with Russian caviar, but to my mind, when properly prepared, is much more delicious. It has a peculiar, soft, pleasant flavour which is entirely lacking in the Russian.

The scenery in the Carpathians is very beautiful and at many points even imposing; the principal peaks are the Omul, Verful co Dor, and the Caraiman.

Rough mountain ponies are used in summer for the ascent of these peaks. These animals are strong and wiry, but their equipment is anything but comfortable. The peasants, from whom they are hired, provide nothing for the tourists but rough wooden saddles, therefore rugs, cushions, etc., have to be provided if one wishes to ride in comfort.

On the slopes of the Carpathians there are rocks composed of sandstone, limestone, and even marble of various colours. The white variety is said to rival the famous Carrara marble.

Roumania, by the way, is rich in minerals, but it is regrettable that so few are exploited. Copper, lead, salt, coal, petroleum, lignite form some of the mineral wealth of the country. Even gold has been found so far back as in the time of Turkish rule.

At present only petroleum, salt, and lignite are worked. Lignite (a mineral coal retaining the texture of the wood from which it is formed) is used, together with natural wood, on the railways instead of coal. It is decidedly advantageous for the traveller, as it burns with a perfectly white smoke and does away with all the grit and dust so noticeable in Hungarian trains.

Roumania possesses very few lakes, the most important being Balta Alba, which is near the town of Ramnic cu Serat. It has great mineral properties, and numbers of people flock to it every summer, as its waters are said to cure rheumatism and scrofula as well as other diseases. Mineral springs are abundant. Besides iodine, sulphur, and mud baths there are the State-supported Spas of Govora and Caliman-eshti, situated among some of the finest Carpathian scenery. Tekir Ghiol, near Constantza, of Turkish origin, as its name implies, and Neamtz, are favourite resorts of invalids from all parts, attracted thereto by the far-famed curative properties of their waters. It is unfortunate that accommodation at these springs is still rather primitive, although the prices are exorbitant.

It is to be hoped that with time the entire mineral wealth of Roumania may be exploited, and thus considerably contribute to the prosperity of the country.

Roumania has not many towns of importance. After the capital (with a population of 200,000) one need only mention Jassy, Craiova, Slatina, Galatz, and Braila--the last two named being ports on the Danube, which do a considerable trade in grain. The ports on the Black Sea are Sulina, where an English gunboat belonging to the European Commission was always stationed, and Constantza, which of late years has direct communication with Constantinople.

Before the building of the bridge over the Danube at Cernavoda--which, by the way, is eleven miles long, as a great tract of marshy land has also to be traversed, travellers from Roumania bound for Constantinople were obliged to cross the river to Rustchuk and then embark from Varna, a Bulgarian port. Now, fortunately, all that is changed, greatly to the advantage of travellers, as Roumanian steamers are much more comfortable than the Bulgarian.

There were formerly only two main lines of railway by which one could leave Roumania, travelling west. One of these is _via_ Verciorova, and runs parallel with the Danube for a considerable distance, passing on its way Pressburg, the old capital of Hungary, where are still to be seen on an eminence the ruins of the castle once inhabited by Maria Theresa. The other route, and, by the way, the cheaper, is in my opinion much more interesting.

Starting from Bucarest, we have a couple of hours’ run, after which begins the ascent of the valley of the Prahova. Passing Campina, the region of the oilfields, which is not so very agreeable for the olfactory nerves, a halt is made for a few minutes at lovely Sinaia, of which I have much to say hereafter.

The train now toils along more slowly, as the ascent becomes more difficult. Passing Busteni, overshadowed by the towering peak of the Caraiman, we reach Poiana Tzapului, at which station we descend to visit the beautiful cascade in the neighbourhood. Azuga is next reached, where we have the opportunity of drinking a glass of the excellent Azuga beer. Finally, a run of another half hour brings us to the top of the Pass at Predeal. The station is so arranged that half is in Roumanian territory and half in Hungarian.

At Predeal we are, unhappily, obliged to change trains--unhappily, I say, as Hungarian trains are so dirty and gritty from coal-dust, and the guards of the trains are _always_ uncivil. By the way, I wonder why Hungarian guards as a rule wear black kid gloves. It is strange, but so it is.

When passports had been examined and stamped with the Imperial Austro-Hungarian seal, and luggage searched for anything contraband, passengers were allowed by the sentry to pass on to the Hungarian part of the platform, but on no pretext whatever might one return to the Roumanian section. As the sole restaurant in the place is on Roumanian soil, this arrangement was extremely awkward for unwary passengers travelling that way for the first time.

Leaving Predeal, the descent of the Tomos Pass is begun, through lovely scenery which is described further on. The line continues through Hungary, by way of Transylvania, till it finally arrives at Budapest, where travellers change again into trains travelling north, west, or south.

There have been changes since the time of which I write, and now the Simplon express leaves Bucarest and proceeds through Agram in Croatia to Trieste, Vienna, Milan, Lausanne, and Paris.

THE DANUBE

The Danube, that mighty river so often spoken of as “The Blue Danube,” proves disappointing in some parts. First of all, it is never blue, but of a muddy grey colour, and then at times it flows through such flat country that the scenery is most depressing. The numerous floating water-mills that are anchored near the banks do not greatly add to the picturesqueness of the scene. They are employed to grind maize and other grain, and the river supplies the motive power.

On the other hand, the scenery of the Danube near the “Iron Gates” and the Kazan Pass cannot be surpassed. It is among the finest scenery in Europe. I have travelled on the Danube from Vienna to Giurgiu, and _vice versa_, several times, therefore am fairly well acquainted with it.

The “Iron Gates” are simply rocks in the bed of the river, in some places just appearing above the surface of the water and in others just visible below. There is a continual swirling and eddying of the water round these obstructions, and they were formerly very dangerous to shipping.

The first time I travelled down from Vienna, the passengers were obliged at Orsova to leave the large steamer and change into quite a small one, which then carefully threaded its way among the dangerous rocks of the “Iron Gates.” Everyone was greatly interested in the wonderful scenery through which we were passing, and the interest was not unmixed with a thrill of fear as we listened to the uncanny tales of former accidents that had occurred just at that spot. The raconteur was a Hungarian, who seemed delighted with the effect he produced. All breathed more freely on leaving the danger-zone and embarking again in one of the larger steamers which awaited us.

The terrors of the “Iron Gates” are, happily, no longer existent, as a great extent of rock was blown up by dynamite some years ago. As the Danube flows through many countries, the consent or approval of each to this proceeding had to be obtained. The great engineering feat was made an occasion of much ceremony, attended by the Emperor of Austria and the Kings of Roumania and Serbia, as well as by members of the Danube Commission. A channel has now been made which stretches for a considerable distance, so that no interruption of the river traffic is to be feared. One hopes that in time the channel may be extended so as to stretch from Vienna to the Black Sea.

Before leaving the scene of the “Iron Gates” I may just shortly describe how they appear under present conditions. As the steamer approaches the Kazan Pass (where what remains of the “Iron Gates” is still to be seen) the river gradually contracts, till it is only about 100 yards in width. One gazes with awe at the steep rocks on each side of the Pass, rocks which rise to the height of 1000 feet or more and which enclose the river in such a manner that they give one the impression of being on a lake rather than a river. As we continue our way through the Pass we notice at some distance the water foaming and eddying round a mass of submerged rock, and at one particular spot the shining line of breakers seems to lie so directly in our path that it appears almost impossible to avoid it. However, the steamer keeps steadily on its way through the channel cut for it, and although at times it appears to be heading for the wall of rock, as if there were really no outlet from the Pass, still, by many devious turns and twists, we get safely through and out into the wider reaches of the river.

What a wonderful river the Danube is! Taking its rise, it is said, in the courtyard of a gentleman’s residence in Germany, it continues its course through many countries, absorbing by the way their numerous tributaries, till it finally empties itself into the Black Sea by three mouths. Not only is it remarkable for its manifold windings, but also for the contraction and expansion of its waters. It is probably at its narrowest in the Kazan Pass, where, as I have already said, it contracts to a width of about 100 yards; whilst in some parts, and noticeably before reaching Belgrade, it has a width of between two and three miles. The Rhine is a beautiful river, but its scenery cannot be compared to that of the Danube; it is by no means so grand or impressive. As for the Elbe, that river has the appearance of a canal when one visits it after viewing the Danube.

From Budapest to Giurgiu is the most interesting part of the river. The scenery is not always grand or even beautiful, but it is interesting, passing as it does through the countries of Hungary, Servia, and Bulgaria, till it finally reaches Roumania. The most uninteresting stretch is that between Budapest and Vienna, where the river flows between perfectly flat banks, nothing to be seen on either side, no villages, no people, only masses of willows stretching for miles, causing a most depressing effect.

The river is ice-bound for nearly three months, but although I have often wished to skate across to Rustchuk on the Bulgarian side, the difficulties have always proved insuperable, as the frozen ridges caused by the wavelets and eddies of the current present anything but a smooth surface to the skater.