Romania is a land of a thousand faces.
The crossing point between the Occident and the Orient,
and a melting pot of different cultures.
It is also a country unlike any other in Europe.
With over 60 percent of the Carpathian Mountains weaving through it,
Romania is the custodian of Europe's last great wilderness area,
its largest remaining forest,
and two thirds of its surviving alpha predators.
But increasingly this unique country's natural and cultural heritage
is under threat from reckless development
and a race to modernise,
which is often destroying the very things that could ensure prosperity
and a sustainable livelihood for generations to come.
Welcome back to our eight part road trip of Romania's historic regions,
in which we discover fabulous treasures, natural wonders, medieval marvels,
mouthwatering dishes,
and meet the people that make this
one of the warmest and most hospitable nations in the world.
We will also be finding out how this hugely misunderstood country
is emerging from post-Communist chaos
and identifying some of the challenges it faces
and how tourism could provide one of its best hopes for the future.
Thank you for being here with us for the final leg of the journey,
as we reach the land of the beech trees or Bucovina.
Famed for its painted churches,
this is a region that's replete with ancient monuments.
Like the Maramures, its people are proud of their history,
and realise the benefits of celebrating time-honoured customs,
and even inventing a few new ones.
Perhaps the best example of a small community doing just this,
is the village of Ciocanesti, near Vatra Dornei,
which has become internationally famous for two local traditions,
that are attracting visitors from across Romania and beyond.
The first of these can be seen
in the décor of every house that lines the village streets,
winding lazily along the banks of the Bistrita River.
The idea was conceived by local resident Leontina Taran,
who decided to adorn her house with original motifs,
borrowed from embroidered folk costumes and painted Easter Eggs.
Since then,
it has become almost mandatory for everyone else in the community
to follow suit, making it today the most colourful village in Romania.
This creativity of design can also be seen in the town's Easter Egg Museum,
which has specimens dating back decades.
Thankfully, most of them, particularly the old ones,
are safely behind glass.
Not only are these eggs very beautifully intricately designed,
but also they are very old, in many cases between 40 and 100 years,
which means they should be handled with extreme caution,
because they are all still full.
Not something you'd want to drop.
Another great reason to come here, to Ciocanesti,
is for its annual weekend Trout Festival,
which just happened to be starting as we were passing through.
Yamaharleys!
Proceedings kick off with a church service,
at one of the less accessible local monasteries,
Sfanta Cruce in the Suhardului Mountains.
In the old days,
people used to make the pilgrimage up here on foot,
but now most insist on driving, which doesn't always work.
This could be interesting.
Come on.
Oh, the wheels are struggling.
Oh, it's not going to make it!
He's made it!
Once the service was over,
we walked the last few hundred meters
to a shepherd's cabin overlooking the valleys
where a hearty breakfast was being served.
Some people walk the whole way up. I must confess I've cheated slightly,
but hey, what a view!
Those mountains and the layers of blue, each one a slightly different shade,
it's like an oil painting.
It's a simple but perfect breakfast:
two types of local cheese, some bread and a fresh onion.
It's almost a sacrament.
This is fantastic,
the preparation and the effort to create this banquet on the top of the mountain.
This is the second course, lamb and vegetable soup.
After breakfast it was time to go back down to Ciocanesti,
to perform the symbolic and very practical ritual
of restocking the river,
by releasing bucket loads of baby trout into their natural environment.
-UK, yeah, absolutely. -You are pretty excited about this.
I am very excited about this, absolutely. Yeah.
It was a rare honour to be asked to help.
Thank you.
Go!
Thank you.
I don't know if this constitutes
a fraction of the trout that we are eating at the festival,
but it's a beautiful symbol and a gesture and it's lovely to see,
fish going into the river instead of coming out.
The Bistrita river
has always had a huge influence on the life of the community here,
not just as a food source, but also occasionally as a threat,
when after heavy rainfall or snowmelt, it bursts its banks.
Maybe this is why another highlight of the festival is a raft race,
or river safari that starts a few miles upstream and come hell or low water,
floats and sometimes drags its way back down to Ciocanesti.
In the old days, the river was sometimes used to transport timber,
but given the current water levels
there was some doubt as to whether the rafts would actually manage to float,
especially with the increasing popularity of this event.
This is an interesting situation. There are so many people,
the river is very shallow and there are more people coming all the time.
The logs are pretty heavy,
and they're clearly not going anywhere without a push,
which is why we have a tractor.
Still I'll believe it when I see it. Should be a lot of fun.
With a little bit of help,
the entourage set forth, scraping their way downstream.
But no-one seemed particularly worried about running aground.
The remarkable thing is
that locals, their families and complete strangers all muck in, laugh,
and participate in a fun, ridiculous and colourful tradition,
that apart from being hilarious to watch, helps bring people together.
OK, so, we've hit another hurdle.
I think he's gotta go round to the back and push,
because obviously the tractor is not going to get to the bridge.
But I love the spirit of perseverance. No problem is insurmountable.
It celebrates the values of a community that're not only proud of their heritage,
but happy to share it with outsiders.
This sense of solidarity and fun is why hoards of people come to Ciocanesti,
and spend their summer holidays here.
It is a success story that is without parallel.
A small village that, thanks to its appreciation of the old traditions,
is not only flourishing but has now achieved Unesco World Heritage Status,
and become another highlight of any trip to Bucovina.
Back in town, visitors are starting to arrive,
in anticipation of music, dancing, palinca and everything trout.
Meantime, in a small monastery, up another very steep hill,
a brand new never seen before recipe for trout ciorba
is being prepared to commemorate the festivities.
I was fortunate enough to be allowed to observe!
-Glad to meet you! -Welcome!
-This is our kitchen. -I love it!
We've invented this soup because we don't eat meat,
and we've changed meat with fresh fish.
I imagine it must be quite a challenge coming up with new recipes.
It's a new recipe from all this region,
because in Romania the traditional recipes they are old.
Here we have water, carrot first, the whole one, onions, please.
Again, straight in.
Straight in with the yellow ones. And the reds we cut them.
You chop them.
Here on the top of the mountains in Bucovina it's pure Romania.
We invite all the people that come here to have lunch with us.
-So just straight in? -It's your turn.
Let's start with porcini, we call them hribi.
Chopped porcini.
They need to fry a little bit. Next I want the smoked fish.
-Yeah. So in they go. -Put it in. OK.
It's important to season right now.
So this is the base of the soup, if you'd like?
-This would be a very nice pasta dish. -Yeah, you're right.
You know if you were to have this,
just have it as it is with penne or spaghetti.
Everything out, yes?
Yes. We chop the carrot and put it in for the colour.
-OK, for the color, nice. -We can start the final stage.
-Fresh unpasteurized cream. -Yes.
I can help with this.
You like it? Look at the color.
Beautiful.
-OK. More? -More...
And this stops the egg from solidifying?
-Yeah, to not be scrambled eggs. -Yes. Precisely.
-It's OK? -It's OK.
It's not finished yet.
No. But it smells absolutely wonderful.
Yeah, tell me quick. What next?
-Garlic and lemon juice. -Right!
It must be difficult at the weekends,
when you have visitors coming to share your services,
because you never know how many people you are cooking food for.
-We ask God. It's very easy. -Usually, you get it right.
-Yes. -OK.
I think it's done.
Yeah. Hurray! It's worth a wait!
-Without patience... -...you can do nothing.
You can do nothing, yeah.
Please taste it.
Really good, all the ingredients, all the garlic compliments
the smoked fish and the salt is fine, cause it's absorbed,
it's not too salty but, you've got a nice edge to it.
Hail, Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
both now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.
Have mercy on us, Lord...
Jesus, bless our food and Thy servants,
both now and ever, and unto the ages of ages.
-Amen! -Amen!
-Enjoy! -Thank you!
I have to say we've tried a lot of soups going around Romania,
and the one in the Danube Delta was pretty amazing,
but this is, on our last episode, in Bucovina,
the best soup I've had in the country,
so thank you so much,
I think this recipe is really going to catch on.
You can take the ceaun with you in UK.
Yeah, I'll... See you!
Safe in the knowledge
that everyone was about to have their taste buds tantalised,
I headed back down to the festival,
just in time to catch
friend and maestro Grigore Lese serenading the assembled crowd.
It was a real privilege to hear such inspiring music, full of stories,
humour, heartache and history and a sense of national pride,
that still defines Romania's rural identity.
We could say that Romanian folklore has three souls,
one is Oriental, one is Occidental and one of its own.
In Ciocanesti, for instance, where we are now,
we can find Hungarian music, Jewish music, Romanian music,
lautari coming from all over.
Music is mixed.
Still we also find local music, pastoral music.
Unfortunately,
these times we're living in
make people drift apart.
They leave for Western countries, they come back, bring music.
However, it's good that they still preserve some music.
We still have lautari,
we still have young people fond of lautari music,
so it's not so bad.
I think that simplicity has to be cultivated in traditional communities.
Generally speaking, the Romanian mentality is rather weak,
but neither you, nor I should be worried about the fate of these people.
If they still want to play traditional music, they'll play it.
If not, they won't.
We could make as many documentaries as we want,
we could make as many projects as we want,
if people are not self-consciousness nothing could happen.
So the trout festival in Ciocanesti it's quite a new tradition.
It's only been going for a few years,
but it brings thousands of people to the community.
Do you think cultural tourism is an answer for rural areas like this?
This was a festival.
People revealed their hearts and souls,
showed us what they do.
They have some patterns, these house decorations,
this system of sign representation used in objects,
in painted eggs,
this is a story in itself.
But all these things should be put in an European context,
otherwise, no one would come here.
These patterns and symbols that we see in Ciocanesti,
can be found all over the world.
If we go to Mexico, we'll find the same symbols,
if we go to Northern Europe, we'll see the same symbols,
the same habits.
Communities having bold projects
will be the ones who will be successful in tourism.
Bold projects are made with valuable people, and I would ask,
do we have valuable people?
I have been wondering about it for a long time.
Valuable people lead the way.
Provided Bucovina has valuable people,
these communities will move forward,
owing to their habits, their approach to life.
Otherwise, they can't,
because there are other European countries
competing with us.
Like it or not, we are part of a larger family.
Who's gonna win?
The countries and communities having bold projects,
cultural, economic, touristic projects, that's it.
In other words, we have to cultivate simplicity.
People have drifted away from simplicity, and they like complicating things,
economically, culturally, you name it.
May Lord give bliss to those who kiss, and a fair share to those who care.
As simple as that!
Leaving Ciocanesti behind,
it was time to head North towards Suceava.
Probably the most celebrated reason for visiting Bucovina
is to see it's painted churches and monasteries.
Being on the coalface between the East and West,
Stephen the Great and other rulers tried their best to ensure,
even during the times of Ottoman supremacy,
that the local population stayed true to the Christian faith.
Given that many people couldn't read or write,
artists were commissioned to translate the bible and Christian history
into a cornucopia of murals and frescoes,
that adorn the interior and exterior of Bucovina's most famous churches.
Today eight of them are Unesco World Heritage sites,
and you could spend a week trying to properly appreciate and take them all in.
I selected three, for no reason in particular,
so don't presume you are seeing the most beautiful.
Just the ones we had time to show you.
My first stop was Humor, built in 1532, by Stephen the Great's illegitimate son.
Unsurprisingly, some of the frescoes serve as a homage to his father.
These wide overhanging roofs
that you see at all the painted monasteries in Bucovina,
are there to offer some protection from the elements,
but this side of the church is facing North.
As you can see underneath the eaves the paintings are still intact,
but as you go further down,
they've literally been washed away over the centuries.
There were also a row of trees here, and since they've gone,
now the church is facing the full force of the North wind.
This monastery was actually built by a chap called Jupan Toader,
who was the right hand man to Petru Rares, son of Stephen the Great,
who was responsible for a lot of these painted churches.
When Petru Rares had the idea to build a church here,
it was Jupan Toader who said let me donate the money,
I would like to fund this church.
So when it actually started being built and they did the paintings on the walls,
you can see there is a depiction of Petru Rares
giving the church to God which is kind of like hopefully a fast track into Heaven.
Well, that was quite a climb, but worth it for the view.
Looking out over the hills and forests of Bucovina,
you can see why people wanted
to build beautiful monasteries and churches here.
It is a very spiritually uplifting landscape,
and it's also one that was constantly threatened by the Ottomans,
so it was very important that Christianity left its stamp here,
in no uncertain terms.
For me, the most wild and wonderful painted monastery is Sucevita,
cradled in a lush valley between the Carpathian foothills.
Lastly, welcome to Moldovita, notoriously hard to publicise,
because the mother superior is very protective of its treasures,
despite the obvious benefits
positive promotion would have on the local community.
However, a small donation later
and we were allowed to show you a glimpse of its treasures.
Mildly astonished
by how many of these incredible murals have survived the elements.
The one thing I find disturbing about Medieval Christian art
is to show in excruciating detail all the martyrs who died for their faith
in the most grizzly ways imaginable.
There are walls devoted to every possible form of torture and punishment,
a tribute to those who died for their faith,
but the preoccupation with such brutal scenes
could be perceived today
as somewhat disconnected from the central messages of love,
forgiveness and charity.
There is another good reason for visiting Moldovita,
particularly if you are a fan of the steam engine.
If you have a few hours spare,
you can catch the Hutulca narrow gauage steam train,
on a delightful ten kilometer trip down the Moldovita valley,
to nowhere in particular.
But there is something profoundly relaxing
about chuffing through lush and diverting scenery,
knowing that for once,
you are on a journey where the destination really doesn't matter.
Although the end of the line, in this case,
provides the option of a barbecue and refreshments
before it's about turn and full speed home.
I took advantage of the changeover to hop up front and see,
if being a train driver, is as much fun as it looks.
How chuffed am I right now?
Driving north towards Suceava, we pass near the town of Cacica,
which is enjoying something of a renaissance,
thanks to a growing awareness of the benefits of health tourism.
A novel way to cool down on a hot summer's day,
and particularly if you suffer
from chest infections, or breathing difficulties,
is to visit the town's historic salt mine
for a chance to inhale some saline air,
and stroll through miles of carved corridors and twilight tunnels,
winding deep into the bowels of the earth.
On your perambulations you can expect to find a chapel.
Every year on December the 4th, priests from three different confessions,
Greek Orthodox, Greek Catholic, and Roman Catholic,
would hold a service down here to commemorate Saint Barbara,
the patron saint of miners,
because working in these salt mines was a risky occupation.
This is a subterranean world carved out by the sweat of countless miners,
but it also holds a few secrets.
For instance, what has to be a contender for the world's most improbable ballroom.
Imagine you walk 500 meters,
in all your finery down through these tunnels to reach this!
Candelabras, drinks, music, maybe an orchestra.
It's extraordinary!
Must have been so atmospheric with all those costumes in those days,
I mean what a piece of history.
And people having balls here up to 30 years ago.
I wish I'd been a fly on the wall back then, imagine it!
This would be the best location to have a party.
And the acoustics aren't bad here either. Listen to this!
There is also a museum,
and even a sports center.
As I discovered,
when I turned up to the football arena, just before the start of a game.
Continuing our journey North, we reach the capital of Bucovina,
the very underrated Suceava,
arriving in time to catch the beginning of its annual medieval festival,
one of the biggest and most colourful in Europe.
The opening ceremony consists of a march through the streets of the city,
including anyone who has the slightest excuse
to be involved in this three day extravaganza of music, gallantry,
fighting and feasting.
Well, everyone looks a bit confused, policemen are on their phones,
people are scratching their beards, scratching their horses.
But the parade is about to start, allegedly at eight thirty.
The streets are not exactly sealed off, but people are queuing up along the sides,
so hopefully that will deter any reckless driving and we will follow the parade
all the way to the castle or that's my hope.
But according to my sat nav, it's 17 minutes by car,
so quite how long it's going to take remains to be seen.
Roads are sealed off, crowds gather,
and the players assemble to carry their torches,
and parade their homemade costumes through the streets,
en route to the castle for the start of what has become
one of Bucovina's most prolific events.
Well, it turns out it was seven km long,
which makes it one of the longest marches in Eastern Europe
or so I'm reliably informed.
Anyway, everyone has gone home now because they are thoroughly exhausted,
understandably, including the horses which didn't made it to the finish line,
but festivities are now officially opened.
So we will see the glories
of what a medieval festival holds tomorrow.
The next morning, as horses were being saddled,
maidens were warming their vocal chords, and swords were being blunted,
I grabbed organiser Emil Ursu for a quick lowdown on what to expect.
It's been the only festival, since its first edition, 11 years ago,
where every day we have reenactments of moments in local history.
And how many people are involved now?
Now we have
420 people in the citadel,
I mean professionals,
and, obviously, our volunteers,
plus Suceava inhabitants who are wearing medieval costumes.
This seems to be a very good way of bringing tourists to Suceava,
it's clearly working very well.
Is this a model that you can recommend to other cities in Romania?
Yes, it is. It's a model that could be recommended.
As a matter of fact, this year too,
there are some, let's say, curious people,
who'd like to learn a lot of information
related to organizing, artistic groups, contacts.
It seems that some plan to organize
similar events in various locations.
However, there are some hurdles. The first one is the lack of a citadel.
Obviously, the festival brings a lot of people to Suceava,
and it's great for tourism.
Is it, do you think,
also an important way to preserve Romania's patrimony,
its cultural heritage?
By this festival we try to highlight this area's historical traditions.
Obviously, some events held in Bucovina
try to highlight handicraft traditions,
wood craftsmanship,
forest fruit tradition, as we are in a mountainous area.
Here, we try to underline the historical traditions.
As much as we can.
Of course, not only Suceava's traditions, but also those of our neighborhood,
I mean Poland, Ukraine, Hungary, Serbia,
or the Transylvania Saxon.
Well, I better let you get on with the preparations,
but thank you so much, that was great!
You're welcome and enjoy our festival!
And congratulations!
-Congratulations! -Thank you so much!
This truly is an extraordinary festival.
It's not just about celebrating Romania's archaic history,
or indulging in a bit of pageantry,
it's about bringing the whole city together.
You can watch knights and brigands battle it out in the arena.
No one is pulling any punches here, they are really going for it,
I imagine there's going to be
a few people with a very sore head by the end of this.
You can shop for rare antiques, clothing and keepsakes
or just eat like a lord.
One thing you don't expect to find at a medieval festival
is a great seafood spread,
however, thanks to modern transport
and rushing it up here from the Black Sea coast,
we've got mussels in a hot chilli sauce,
we've got shrimps and we have octopus on the grill.
And I am completely confounded,
because i don't know what to order so I think I'm going to have the lot.
Suceava has much to recommend it, but few tourists venture further North,
to explore the lands that lie near the Ukraine border.
One reason why they are missing out
is the chance to visit the former home of Romania's most famous poet,
Mihai Eminescu, in the village of Ipotesti.
It's strange to think that such a quiet, unassuming place,
gave rise to a writer of such depth and passion.
Albeit rebuilt, the house contains many items that belonged to him,
and conveys a sense of what life was like in the mid 19th century.
He was nothing if not prolific,
he wrote 46 volumes of poetry,
that's 14 thousand pages,
a lot more than me, but he was also a great romantic
and much of his work is preoccupied with nature
and the changing seasons.
So this one I found is called, Why do you wail, oh, forest trees,
and it's a translated version,
so forgive me it's not in the original Romanian.
"Why do you wail o forest trees."
"Forest, without rain or breeze
your branches ill at ease?"
"How indeed should I not wail
when the hours of summer fail!"
"Nights grow longer, days get short
on my branches few leaves caught
and the winds with bitter sword
drive my choristers abroad."
"Autumn winds that forests flay
winter near, spring far away."
"How indeed should I not groan
when my singing birds have flown
and across the frozen sky
flocks of swallows hurry by
and with them my fancies fly
leaving me alone to sigh."
"Hurry on as time in flight
turning day half into night.
Time that o'er the forest rings
with a fluttering of wings."
"And they pass and leave me cold
nude and shivering and old."
"For my thoughts with them have flown
and with them my gladness gone."
Very beautiful poem.
I think it's obviously much better in the original Romanian,
again, I'm sorry for that,
but it also reminds me of one that I wrote in a similar vein.
As a poet, if I can't read a poem here, in front of Mihai Eminescu's house,
than where can I do it?
So bear with me please.
"As Nature's dentist plucks his trade
and summer's show succumbs to shade,
I'll pass beneath the copper eaves
and leave the web my lady weaves
and as the north wind strips the land
and winter plays his frozen hand
I will the south my soul to lift
and fly upon the ocean swift."
"Yet as these thoughts through deeds recede
this bitterness itself shall bleed
and once the grey consents to green
once more within her arms I'll dream."
A bit further North from Ipotesti is the village of Vorona.
I have come here to once again
track down friend and musical historian Bogdan Simion,
who was keen to introduce me to some signature sounds of Bucovina.
Nice to see you, welcome to Vorona, man.
-Good to see you. -Thank you so much.
I keep bumping into you in the most remote places.
I'm always in search of music, always in search of sounds.
-The quest always continues. -Yeah, exactly.
-Hello! -Welcome.
Charlie, glad to meet you!
This is the brass band from Vorona.
One of the last peasant brass bands in the whole North of Moldova, actually,
encompasing Bucovina as well.
Their tradition partially stems from Austrian Hungarian military music,
marching bands from the Russian Tsarist empire,
Polish music.
But mostly, what happened was that their grandparents left for the army,
carrying flutes and bagpipes and returned...
With brass instruments.
With brass military instruments. Yet they played their own folk music.
So this is what is distinctive about this band.
So they learned the marching tunes while they were with the army,
and then they came back
and they converted the instruments to playing folk music.
Exactly. But they also have a very large multicultural repertoire,
they have songs called Polcuta, which is a Polish dance,
they have Rusasca, which is a Russian dance,
they have Jampara, which is a Turkish dance.
These people party almost constantly.
They have ten churches to honour, they have two monasteries,
they celebrate the communes,
that they are intertwined with, in France and Republic of Moldova.
They celebrate almost every single day, not counting weddings,
baptisms, anniversaries,
-And funerals. -And funerals. Yeah.
What are we going to hear first?
We are going to hear a very special song which is right from here, from Vorona,
you can't hear it anywhere else and it's called "The Loom".
As in preparing the wool to create fabric?
Exactly.
-Shall we sit? -Of course!
Go on, guys!
Good job, boys!
Tremendous!
In this area where we are and also in Maramures and Satu Mare,
are the only areas in Romania
where the Communist collectivization was not made fully.
Because they couldn't do it completely.
They couldn't control the people.
And here people still remember the anti-communist songs
that they used to sing in a very dangerous environment, in the 50's.
So when in the 50's you would hear the radios exalting the communist party,
you would also hear them in parties.
Good old Chirila, for instance,
you could hear him singing bad things about the Communist party.
So he must have gone in a bit of trouble over the years, I presume.
I guess, I guess he did. He was a little reckless, you can say that.
Chirila, dear, let's sing.
Start!
Heading back South,
the land remains fairly featureless until you reach Suceava,
which makes it ideal for growing melons.
The lush soil, sunshine and absence of shade,
contribute to almost every variety of the Cucumis family.
With each roadside stand, I felt my resolve weakening.
It was only a matter of time.
One of the things that always perplexes me
is that Romania, which is basically the bread basket of Europe,
has some of the best fruit and vegetables anywhere,
and yet in supermarkets very often you find Turkish melons.
Look at these! Fantastic Romanian melons grown just here. I am going to have one.
-How much is it? -2.50.
Thank you!
So you see this is a very big treat back home.
I think when you've got it on your doorstep,
sometimes is a bit easy to take it for granted.
The problem, I guess,
is that the small producers here
can't club together enough to name their price,
and you have foreign suppliers who are selling them in much cheaper,
so the supermarkets obviously go for the cheapest option,
but not the sweetest option.
That's like ambrosia. Pure nectar, full of sugar and it's fruit sugar,
it's gorgeous.
We need to see more farmers markets, we need to see some more collectives.
Let's all club together get local suppliers to form groups,
and then they can command a good price for the supermarkets,
to get their products on the shelves.
Thank you!
Saturated with fruit,
I set out on the final furlong of our adventure,
a stunning drive through the mountains towards Vatra Dornei,
where there was one remaining peak to conquer,
before we reluctantly reach our conclusion.
Racing against the setting sun, I headed upwards,
towards what has to be a contender for the most beautiful view in Romania.
And the place where we've come to say goodbye,
Rarau Mountain.
Waking up on this remote summit is an incredible experience.
I have a suspicion the sun is about to rise.
I am not a mornings person.
Sadly, one I was completely unable to convey,
due to the driving force of the wind.
What an amazing view!
But right now, it defied description.
The wild beauty, the solace, the freedom,
you'll just have to take my word for it.
Or come here yourselves.
Hoping it would be calmer in the forest,
we headed back down to the shelter of the rocks.
And the sobering thought that here and now,
we were about to cross the finish line.
It's been seven months,
we've travelled over 20,000 kilometers,
and suddenly, this was it!
For every story we've told,
there have been dozens that we haven't been able to include.
For every character I have interviewed,
there have been hundreds of wonderful people who we've met,
who we just don't have time to introduce you to.
Because seven months of filming goes past in a blink of an eye.
So all we can give you is a flavour, a snapshot in time.
But a crucial one.
Because Romania is standing at a crossroads.
One way, is a concrete cul de sac, a landscape devoid of forests,
peppered with crumbled villages and empty hotels.
The other, more vertiginous and challenging route,
involves delayed gratification...
sensitive and careful development,
sustainable management of resources and political transparency.
This commitment to environmental and patrimonial conservation
could assure a new dawn and make Romania a vital example to the rest of the world,
immortalizing its status, both literally and metaphorically,
as the greenest country in Europe.
To achieve this requires an end to corruption at all levels,
and a change in attitude.
People must wake up to the fact
that preserving historic buildings provides an income for surrounding areas,
and that not everything that's new is good.
It is far more sophisticated to restore or expand a traditional home,
than tear it down in favour of building a new one.
To grow, sometimes we have to retrace our steps.
And Romania needs to rediscover
the balance between progress and heritage,
mankind and mother nature.
It's my belief that together we can achieve this.
Thank you for watching and stay off the beaten track.