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Was That Dracula Riding a Lipizzan? -
Touring 13th Century Splendor
Astride World Class Horses

Romania – Land of Transylvania and Dracula - and Lipizzan horses! Do you know of another riding vacation that includes such a combination?

My friend, Diane, and I flew into Bucharest, the capitol of Romania, and were greeted by Huib and Bertina who picked us up in their van and drove more than 3 hours through the rugged and beautiful Carpathian Mountains into Transylvania. Part of our route was the main road from Istanbul to Budapest.

Our destination was Halmaeg, a small village of about 700 people – 1/3 Romanians, 1/3 Hungarians and 1/3 gypsies. The houses in Halmaeg are set back from the road with small patches of grass in front that are kept mowed by roaming cows and horses who graze there. All of the houses have high walls around courtyards through which visitors must pass to get to the front doors. These courtyards are guarded by various breeds and mixed breeds of dogs who bark incessantly if a stranger dares to venture inside without permission.

The main highways, though paved, are often bumpy and in disrepair, and when you travel off them, the roads are usually hard dirt and ridged like a washboard.

The people who live in the small villages use horses hitched to farm wagons to haul various products – milk cans, hay, vegetables – to market. They also use the farm wagons to gather wood from the forests to burn in the winter and to transport their families. Few can afford a car or tractor. Some residents farm small plots of land outside the village, but many of the people are unemployed laborers or pensioners.

Huib and Bertina, are from the Netherlands, and own Merlelor, in partnership with their friend, Latsi, who is Hungarian and a native of Halmaeg. Merlelor is a Lipizzan breeding farm with 40 to 50 horses. They also offer riding vacations here, catering to both Americans and Europeans – no more than eight at a time – as well as camping trips by horseback and sleigh rides at Christmas time.

Diane and I shared a nice–sized bedroom with private bath in one of two houses that was part of the Merlelor compound. The walled–in area also contained a small barn, sheds, a courtyard and a paddock. Two breeding and four other young stallions were kept here while the mares and foals, guarded by a herdsman, were loose in a large, unfenced field on the edge of the village.

Several of the broodmares, including Kim, Jikke and Aripa, and a sturdy, bay gelding named Bradu were our mounts for the week. Often, a couple of foals accompanied their mothers on our daily treks through the countryside to other villages, trotting and galloping alongside their mothers, grabbing a bit of nourishment or short nap whenever we stopped.

Nonius is the local breed of horse in Romania, and is descended from a French stallion and looks similar to an Anglo-Arab, mostly chestnut in color. The horses pulling wagons or plows were usually plain and small, patiently doing their jobs, but one pair of matched grays we saw being driven during one of our rides was quite spirited, heads held high and tossing their long manes and tails as they trotted briskly past us.

Our days started with a leisurely breakfast of juice, soft boiled eggs, toast, jam, cold cuts, yogurt, coffee and tea. Then we dressed for the ride that day – in layers because the temperatures in the nights and early mornings in September are quite cool, but then rise throughout the day to the upper 70s.

We would walk through the village down to the field and, after Huib selected our mounts for the day, we all led the horses back to the hitching rail in the courtyard. We groomed them (paying special attention to the burrs in their manes and tails) before saddling and bridling them.

Packing lunches and drinks in saddlebags, we rode out through the village with Huib as our guide. Also staying at the farm were five girls from Holland, who, when not too busy, often rode along with us. They were there to learn about various careers with horses and to become familiar with all facets of horsemanship.

We were always accompanied by a couple of the farm’s dogs – Daisy, a tiny, black and tan mixed breed whose heart and courage were as big as that of a Great Dane; Barney, a black medium–sized mixed breed, or Coco and Zsa Zsa, two German wire–haired pointers. The dogs were the scouts for our little troop, roaming ahead and to all sides and then coming back periodically to check on us.

In one of the stalls Daisy had a litter of very cute puppies, eager to be cuddled and almost impossible to pass up. Diane and I couldn’t help checking on them at least twice a day, hoping our resistance would hold out and we didn’t carry one or two home with us.

The Romanian countryside is beautiful and reminded me of some of our Western states – open, rolling hills with spreading oak trees dotting the meadows, forested mountains and big sky. The mountains in the distance aren’t nearly as tall as our Rockies, with their highest peaks only a little more than 8500 feet. During our rides we encountered sheep, cows, pigs, goats, horses, water buffalo and one donkey who liked the looks of our mares and decided to follow us home – that is, until we had to navigate a gauntlet of guard dogs.

The flocks of sheep are all guarded by shepherds and their small packs of wild–looking Hungarian/Romanian guard dogs that charged us barking and growling whenever we rode near them. Our dogs stayed within the circle of our horses for protection since the guard dogs were reluctant to get too close to the horses. Occasionally, a couple of the girls would pick up Daisy and Barney and carry them on their horses if the guard dogs were especially aggressive.

The shepherds stay out all summer with their flocks, sleeping in tiny lean–tos while the other animals – cows, horses, pigs – are brought out each morning to a grazing area and then returned to the village each evening. Some of the herdsmen spend their time gathering twigs with which to make brooms that they sell to fellow villagers.

Taking a circuitous route, we rode in a different direction from the village each day, never seeming to travel the same trail twice the entire week. We usually rode to one of the neighboring villages where Huib knew about a small market. There we would stop for lunch and tie up our horses to trees, poles or light standards. Sometimes we ate our sandwiches in small courtyards where there was a table and benches, and sometimes we just sat along the road eating and watching village life while Huib would go into the market and buy more drinks, cookies and other snacks for us. The markets in the villages are the usual gathering places for the men who sit on benches in front and gossip.

Our first morning ride took us through a forest of dogwoods, beeches, oaks and other hardwood trees that were no different from those back home. Other sections of forests that we rode through had evergreens – pines and spruces.

We enjoyed long trots and many fast gallops, and the horses were all very sure–footed and well–mannered. The beautiful, distant views of villages with their graceful, white steeples or onion domes contrasting the squat, red–roofed houses; the wide, meandering Olt River where 3–foot long catfish could be caught; and our encounters with the people who live here made each day more interesting than the last.

Our little village of Haegle has the second oldest fortified church in Eastern Europe – 850 years old. The vicar speaks very good English and was delighted to show us around the church and graveyard, explaining the history and pointing out some of the antique artifacts inside the church. He showed us the “shaming benches” where parishioners who had misbehaved had to sit during the service.

After riding we unsaddled the horses and let them out of the courtyard where they trotted loose down through the village to their field. We enjoyed a couple of hours to relax and/or read, clean up, and have a drink before dinner was served later in the evening. Sometimes local visitors joined us by the big fireplace in the barroom for a beer.

On Monday we were served a shrimp and salmon appetizer, homemade asparagus soup, pork cutlets, French fries, a tomato salad and ice cream for desert. We enjoyed delicious homemade soups each evening (cucumber, vegetable, cauliflower, mushroom), appetizers and/or fresh salads, and entrees from stuffed peppers, cod, ham and cheese croquettes to Nasi Goreng, a traditional Indonesian dish made with fried rice, chicken, prawns and vegetables.

One afternoon when we finished riding, Huib and Bertina drove us to the nearby Lipizzan Stud Farm in Sibiu. It is one of two Lipizzan stud farms in Romania, and there are about 50 stallions on view in the long barns there. In a field that we passed just before the entrance to the farm there were about 70 mares grazing. Other stallions, approximately two hundred, are out on loan to various breeding farms to help improve the Romanian Lipizzans.

The stud farm was once a palace for Hungarian royalty, but it was taken over when Transylvania became part of Romania. Now the palace is abandoned and deteriorating, and the 100–year–old indoor arena is collapsing.

One day we did no riding and, instead, went to Sighisoara, a UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) World Heritage Site, built by Saxons between the 12th and 17th centuries. (World Heritage Sites are chosen by UNESCO for their outstanding value to humanity.)

Sighisoara is very typical of a small, fortified medieval town – built on a hill with eleven towers guarding the high, stone walls. An enclosed wooden staircase with over 150 steps leads to the Church on the Hill. The church is known for its 500–year old frescos, Renaissance pews, a display of decorated brides’ dowry chests, and a Romanesque crypt. Four of the tombs in the crypt had been opened just days before we arrived so that a few of the skeletons of wealthier patrons interred there were now on view.

Today, merchants and craftsmen still conduct business just as they did centuries ago, making Sighisoara one of the few citadels that is a viable, working town, with hotels, homes, churches, restaurants and other businesses, not just a museum–like fortress on display.

In addition to the old buildings, narrow, cobblestoned streets, winding alleys, and a bustling square, is the house where Vlad Tepes (aka Vlad the Impaler) was born in the 15th century. A Hungarian prince made famous by the Bram Stoker novel of Dracula, Vlad was noted for his tortuous treatment of anyone who went against him. The Prince’s birthplace is now a restaurant where you can order, among other selections, a Bloody Mary, or a mug of beer with or without a head on it.

After lunch we drove through the countryside to 13th century Biertan, where we visited another UNESCO World Heritage Site – the most famous of all fortified churches. It’s surrounding walls are 35 feet high, and it has three different enclosures so that attackers that made it over the first wall still had two more to conquer before they could get into the church where the villagers were hiding.

Our next stop was the Pony Saddlery in Madeas where they had a factory that made leather equestrian goods (bridles, saddles, chaps and more) and a very nice showroom to display their products for sale. We all took advantage of the quality of workmanship and relatively inexpensive prices.

At the end of our week, Huib drove us back to Bucharest where we spent the night before an early morning flight home the next day. On the way we stopped at Bran Castle. It had originally been a fortress built by the Knights of the Teutonic Order in 1212 and, for a short period, supposedly, the headquarters of Vlad the Impaler during his Transylvania invasions in the mid–1400s. It was very striking when we first viewed the castle from a distance, but once there, we found it to be very commercial with its many nearby souvenir shops. The Castle Dracula, Vlad’s actual home, is in ruins on a steep hill above the Arges River in central Romania.

There is much to see and absorb in Romania and I feel we only scratched the surface. But my experience, especially because it was done for the most part on the back of a horse and with a knowledgeable guide, gave me a better sense for the country of Romania, its people and its legends.



To contact Huib and Bertina at Merlelor, please see our Riding Vacation Directory and “Ridingholidays.com” under Worldwide.

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