Explore Romania’s Carpathians on Via Transilvanica trail
Embarking on the Via Transilvanica offers a journey through Romania's heart, blending traditional landscapes with vibrant local cultures, launched two years ago, this 1,400-kilometer trail, celebrated with a Europa Nostra Award, meanders through the Carpathian Mountains, weaving together picturesque villages, rich biodiversity, and 12 UNESCO World Heritage sites.
Running diagonally across Romania, the Via Transilvanica weaves through some of Europe’s most traditional landscapes and communities, connecting 12 UNESCO World Heritage sites, Caliber.Az reports citing the foreign media.
About a third of the way into my 23-kilometer trek, I started to worry about my dwindling water supply. After refilling at the Painted Monastery in Sucevița, a challenging climb had quickly depleted that precious hydration.
Three hours into the hike, the dense forest opened up to reveal the expansive Bucovina highlands. This high pasture, known as Poiana Ovăzului (Oat Meadow), promised water, as grazing animals often signal a nearby source. Despite the presence of a few wooden shepherds' huts in the distance, there was no livestock in sight.
I continued on the trail, which descended into a verdant cleft in the ridge. Here, I found a couple of more substantial buildings and a makeshift shelter clearly designed for hikers. Next to it was a tap labeled "apa potabile" ("drinking water"). As I filled my bottle, Cosma, a hearty shepherd with a toothy grin, appeared. He waved towards the shelter and said, "Sit, rest." I complied, grateful for the water, but he was already offering me a bottle of homemade apple brandy. Despite the early hour, for him, it was evidently time for a splash of palinka.
I hesitated, but Cosma insisted that a glass or two of his homemade apple brandy would aid digestion. Just as I was about to protest that my digestion was perfectly fine, Cosma's elderly mother appeared with a plate of pork fat, sheep’s cheese, and raw onions.
It would have been impolite to refuse such generous hospitality, especially in the middle of the Carpathian Mountains at 1,120 meters. After a couple of shots and a hearty snack, I continued on my way, only to find myself in need of a brief rest a few miles later.
I was traversing the Via Transilvanica, a 1,400-kilometer trail that crosses Romania diagonally from the northeast to the southwest. This rugged route takes you through the mountains, forests, and villages of Transylvania.
The trail is well-marked and mapped, primarily following a combination of cart tracks and well-trodden paths. The guidebook divides it into manageable stages, typically between 15 and 25 kilometers, with detailed descriptions and recommendations for each overnight stop. Most accommodations are small, owner-run guesthouses with a few rooms and some offering camping options. It's advisable to book ahead, especially if you plan to dine. Expect to pay around 120-150 lei (£20-25) per night for accommodation, plus about 50 lei (£8.50) for dinner and 30 lei (£5) for breakfast.
Launched two years ago, the Via Transilvanica has already earned a Europa Nostra Award for its exceptional heritage conservation. This trail traverses some of Europe’s most traditional landscapes, home to bears and wolves, and features 12 UNESCO World Heritage sites. It breathes new life into remote rural communities that still practice traditional methods like hand-scything hay and traveling by horse and cart, while also fostering local food production.
Crucially, the route also connects 18 distinct ethnic and cultural regions within modern-day Romania, earning it the moniker "the road that unites."
I began my journey at the trail's northernmost point in Bucovina, renowned for its UNESCO-listed Painted Monasteries—16th-century churches adorned with vivid biblical frescoes on their exterior walls—and its stunning natural scenery. Bucovina is often called the "Switzerland of the East."
The trail’s symbol—a white circle with an orange T—quickly became my guide as I departed from Putna Monastery, following gently ascending forest paths. This orange trail marker led me through beech and conifer forests, with hand-carved kilometer stones marking my progress. Equipped with a trail guide on my phone, which included route descriptions and accommodation recommendations, I felt confident and oriented.
My first night was at a guesthouse in Sucevița, near the second monastery, where my host Cristina served a hearty meal of meat and potatoes. In the village of Vatra Moldoviţei, close to the third monastery, my host Doina prepared a delicious leg of her own chicken, noticeably different from supermarket varieties. The village, once home to a German-speaking population during the Habsburg era, allowed me to converse with Doina in near-fluent German.
While Vatra Moldoviţei is known for its ancient narrow-gauge steam railway, used historically for logging, it operates only on weekends, unfortunately for me. My third night was spent in Sadova, where I communicated with my host Elena through Google Translate and with the assistance of her son Ioan, the local Orthodox priest. Elena prepared a delightful meal of trout with polenta and curd cheese, finished with fruit-filled pancakes.
Each day, I set out after a hearty breakfast while the sun was still young. As I ventured through villages, storks perched on rooftop chimneys observed me, and dogs barked their discontent at the unfamiliar passerby. Each village home boasted its own vegetable patch, orchard, and chickens, while stooks of hand-cut hay stood like woolly ghosts in the lowland pastures. Beyond these, the landscape transitioned into enchanting beech woods, with Via Transilvanica signs cautioning of bears “active after dusk.”
Bear warnings are common in woodland areas, though encounters are rare. Most bear activity occurs at dawn or dusk, so if you’re on the trail at these times, make plenty of noise, especially when passing through dense undergrowth. Fierce shepherd dogs, trained to protect sheep from wolves, are a more frequent hazard. Carrying a stick in sheep-grazing areas is advisable.
Romania's Carpathian Mountains host the densest brown bear populations in Europe. Fortunately, I didn’t encounter any. To stay safe, I spoke aloud as I hiked, just in case. I did spot some deer in the distance, but for the most part, it was just me amidst the woods and meadows, enjoying the bird song and breathing in the fresh, unspoiled air.
Four days into the hike, having explored Bucovina thoroughly, I connected with the trail’s creators, Tășuleasa Social, an NGO founded by Romanian brothers Tibi Uşeriu and Alin Uşeriu, with Alin now managing the organization with his partner, Anna Szekely. Their headquarters, a charming campus on a hilltop near Bistrița, offers accommodation, advice, and catering to hikers about eight days into their trek. Over lunch with Szekely, the trail guide’s author, I learned about the origins of the route.
"Alin and I both hiked Spain's Camino de Santiago and loved it," Szekely shared. "But we realized our homeland, with its diverse ethnicities, each with unique food and traditions, had even more to offer culturally and touristically." Thus, the Via Transilvanica was born, with village mayors contacted to support its development.
"We've had 35,000 hikers in the first two years—80% Romanian," Szekely said. "But I believe we’ll see 250,000 annually soon. It has tremendous potential and serves as a gift to the people, helping villages develop their own businesses."
And as for the bears, Szekely reassured me, “No one has had a serious encounter. We’ve only had one reported dog bite.”
After my time in Bucovina, I ventured into Transylvania for the southern Saxon section of the trail. This two-day hike, starting in the UNESCO-listed village of Saschiz with its fortified church and ending in Sighisoara, known for its Dracula connections, offered a distinct experience. These Saxon villages, with their stone-built structures, grand gateways, and decorative details, still maintained traditional elements like horse and carts and scythes.
The hike through the southern Saxon section of the Via Transilvanica was notably more sociable. In Saschiz, I stayed at a guesthouse run by Anca, a passionate supporter of the trail. I shared dinner with two hikers from Moldova, who regaled me with tales from their journey. The next morning, as we climbed out of Saschiz past its 600-year-old fortress, exchanging beechwoods for pastures dotted with sheep, I could hear the Moldovans up ahead, blasting loud music from their phones to ward off any lurking bears.
My subsequent stop was equally convivial. In the village of Şapartoc, I stayed at a guesthouse operated by Radu and Andrea, where we enjoyed a hearty feast of roast pork with sour cream, accompanied by generous servings of homemade palinka.
Şapartoc, a Hungarian-origin village, was more dispersed and in poorer condition compared to Saschiz. Radu shared that he had purchased his rundown property years ago on a whim for just €2,000, money he had earned from selling his motorcycle. What had started as a weekend DIY project turned into a full-time endeavor with the advent of the Via Transilvanica.
This is precisely what the Via Transilvanica has achieved: it has forged connections between people and created new business opportunities where none existed before. It stands as an exemplary conservation heritage initiative and is truly deserving of its Europa Nostra award.