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Wednesday on the Nyárád
Following the Flock in the Heart of Transylvania
It is our customary summer travel plan to spend a few weeks exploring some part of Europe on the way from the U.S. to the kids’ great-grandmother’s (dédi’s) house in Romania. It’s a journey we’ve done as a family numerous times, and one my partner Hajnal — who was born in Romania — and I made even before they were born. It is a land rich with history and even richer with nature.
Each year the path to Romania changes, and this year it entailed an ambitious two-week train journey from the western side of Central Europe, through Switzerland and Austria, culminating in a cramped and jerky overnighter that landed us in the heart of Transylvania, just in time for the summer festival where we could plant our feet with family and food for a while.
The village is not long. A few miles, end to end. You feel its town-ness in the way it briefly changes shape, widening to make room for the strip of park that runs through its center before narrowing again toward the fields. For a long weekend in early August, the town stretches even a little wider than normal to make room for their summer festival. We arrived just as…
