Byzatine masterpieces - the value of art in religion

Morning comes early to rural Romania.
Here at la Ferme Veche in Bogdana, the roosters were busy early and the dogs added to their chorus. The hens clucked busily, scratching just beyond the verandah around the accommodation building. Ah yes, agrarian life - NOT for me.

What is really appealing is that for much of our travels in Romania, we are either in the mountains, or surrounded by them. Few glacial valleys here - they are more the narrower river valleys with the occasional one broadened out enough to allow mass farming. Stunning!

Today we smell the late summer - the pollen on the wind as we cross the open plains of mid-north of Romania (Moldavia), the freshly cut corn as we pass open carts laden with them being pulled by patient horses, and the stench of the sunflowers fully ripe, filled with their precious oil, too tired now to hold their heads to follow the sun - you have no idea how much they stink just before they are harvested - especially when we pass through kms and kms of fields on both side of the roads.

We have a 3.5 hour drive to head to the region of Bucovina so we can visit some of Romania's artistic legacies - the Painted Monasteries.  Again, we are not really travelling all that far, but here in the north, the vehicle of choice is horse -pulled cart - and I guess that one-horsepower ain't got much grunt! (Sorry, couldn't help myself 😀) But seriously, this is the main reason that our average speed today hovers well under 50 kph.  That and many poor roads.

We have plugged in Bucovina and get taken straight to a historical monument for sure, with some frescoes, but not one of THE painted monasteries. Its
about now that we realise that they are not in the city of Bucovina, but rather, the region.  So back in to the car, we program the tablet with the name of oneof the most famous - Voronet. Sure enough - another hour!  Off we set and as we almost reach the site, I spy the signs for another nearby - the Monastery of Humor.  But first for Voronet.

This medieval complex was built in five months in 1448, dedicated to St George the Martyr and remembering two other figures: the founder - St Stephen the Great and the Hermit St Daniil. These frescoes are known for their rich use of blue - a blue that became to be known across the world as Voronet Blue.

And if you think that it is stunning on the outside, you should have seen the inside where we cannot take photos. The colours, protected from harsh light are so much more vibrant and frescoes cover every square cm of the interior. The internal construction is a simple series of stone walls supporting increasingly smaller arches that have then been plastered and then painted. Truly awe-inspiring and makes one feel very small and humble.

The monasteries here are kept by nuns, not monks. And for Voronet, these nuns are in charge of a big business. One nun mans the entry point deftly swapping 5 Lei (or 15 Lei for photographers) for entry tickets. She is working her fingers off - such are the numbers of visitors. It would take some income to upkeep such an important monument, so please don't think too harshly of me if I admire the beautiful new convent building set just aside from the monastery!

You can see that the frescoes on the northern facing walls are very faded due to the harsh sunlight, all the more apparent when you walk around to the southern side to see the less weathered side. And given that the purpose of the frescoes was to not only provide divine instruction for the enlightened, but also to educate the common man, the subject of hell features boldly with the devil about to devour a sinner.

There is a full treasure trove of icons and collectibles on sale at the exit point - again, the nun is kept busy. I add to her sales for the day with a memento for Mum. And as we both agree that this is a unique treasure that needs to be kept for future generations, we make a reasonable donation to the restoration fund.

Voronet done, we head back the way we have come and turn at the flower power car to head to the Monastery at Humour - only 7 kms from here.

If Voronet was impressive with its colour and vim, it was also milking the tourism trade.  Humor Monastery is slightly smaller, slightly poorer and in every sense a truer working monastery. No money changes hands on entry - the nun is busy and comments "pay on the way out".

As we enter through the gate, we hear the nuns chanting. It sets the vibe for our visit - more sombre, more 'real', more sincere somehow.

The colours at this monastery are less blue, more red, but no less stunning. 

There is a tower beside the monastery - and where there is a tower, there is Michael.  It certainly offers a different perspective!

This monastery is a renovation works in progress and one a timber scaffold above the entry door, two painters work at restoration very quietly. I see that very few people even notice the works. It pays to stand quietly and take in the surroundings!

Again, we can't take photos inside. And again, the colours and scenes are resplendent in their intensity. But you get a good idea from the outside.  In the inner sanctum, there are two nuns who in turn recite the prayers that we heard as we arrived and walk through the grounds.  Again, a donation to the restoration - it would be such a loss to the art world, the social history world and yes, the religious world if these treasures were not preserved.  

As we stand and take in the splendour outside, one of the nuns commences a round of the monastery, striking a long piece of wood with a small hammer - a leftover from when the bells were banned. It adds a touch of the authentic, but this is no show as she continues around the monastery and finishes with her blessing, touch the ground three times in the process.

As we leave, and pay, the younger nun asks where we are from and when we tell her Australia, she is delighted - "I KNEW you were from Australia", she exclaims, looking pleased with herself.  "So far to come, and for such a short time, but you leave a piece of yourself here."  We couldn't agree more.  If you want to read more of the monasteries, check out http://romaniatourism.com/painted-monasteries.html

I finished the day with a few souvenir purchases. One piece of handiwork for which the maker asked 5 Lei - less than $2. I gave her 10 Lei and still felt guilty knowing how long it takes to hand-make crafts. And the painted eggs that they were asking up to 18 Lei each in Sibiu and Brasov are just 5 Lei each here!


And as we near our accommodation at Curtea Bizantina at Scheia just outside Surceava, with a storm brewing behind us, the harvested fields high on the hills  gently tug a patchwork shawl over their shoulders against the cooling evening.

We are just in from dinner - and what a feast. Served by the very efficient, and proudly English-speaking Iuli, our hunger is truly sated. 
We began with Tripe Soup for Michael (of course) while I had tomato soup. Can't vouch for the tripe, but that tomato soup was amazing. Pure unadulterated tomato. So fresh with just a splash of olive oil. 
I followed with Byzantine Beef tenderloin cooked in butter and thyme with mint, orange, lemon juice and brandy and served with boiled potatoes in butter and herbs while Michael feasted on Tochitura (traditional old time dish) - pork sirloin, pork scratchings, pork neck, polenta, house-made feta cheese, local pickles and fried eggs. Looked good and he said it was wonderful.

We finished the night with coffee.

Are we really leaving winter?

Having hardly slept at all last night - camera, Kate, computer kept running through my brain, with the occasional makeup, jewellery added in for good measure, I finally fell in to a deep sleep about 5 am.  And then woke with a start at 7:45am!! NOT a  good start, really.

But having repeated the items all night long, it didn't take me long to chase them all up and pack them in to the second backpack we are now taking.

Packing last night was a very interesting exercise.  Our original plan was to take a medium and a small suitcase. Yeah, right, as if THAT was going to happen.
The two items that Rolf Sieber  had done for us won't go anywhere near fitting in the medium suitcase, and in fact just fit in the base of the large older suitcase.

And then there are the presents. So at 11 pm we ended up with the two larger suitcases, two backpacks, my handbag and a bag with a hat!  Yep, packing light next time I said. Passport and credit card I said. Ha ha.

This morning was all the last minute stuff. Like making sure that the guy grinding our stumps new that I wanted some of the succulents kept. Like Michael replacing the smoke detectors.  You know, last minute stuff.  And it is ridiculously warm at 26 degrees as we leave.

Anyway, no fear, Gen made sure that we made the airport with plenty of time.  She stayed for a drink and then made her way off to introduce herself to Miss Bella.
It was about now that we realised that we had a whole touring rugby school on the flight with us. Not just a team, the whole bleeding school. Still, they were quiet enough. However, all flight long they kept getting up to go to the bathroom. You could have sworn that they were 6 years old and on their first flight.

The landing in to Sydney hit wind shear about 30 feet from the ground and we bounced along the tarmac three or four times.  Not the best landing.
Still, nice and warm for a Sydney winter at 22 degrees.
Donna met us at the airport and drove us over to the Adina Apartment Hotel.  Nice enough facilities, but crap internet.  Repacked the bags to get some of the shoes out of the backpack.

We went for dinner with her and Garry to the Tennyson Hotel.  Great food.
Now fully buggered and about to hit the sack.  Early start. Donna is picking us up at 6 and we will check in and then have breakfast at the Airport.

Talk soon.