Kochi (or Cochin), Not Really a Free Day: Kerala and More Part 2

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 27th of February 2024
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly.

A Folklore Museum and Lunch with an Old Friend

Breakfast at the Tea Bungalow

India

Kerala

We slept reasonably well given the time change and our unusual day yesterday and had a leisurely if routine breakfast. Chef’s South Indian Special was only available ‘later’ (if and when he turned up?) so we settled for masala omelette, watermelon juice and fruit (watermelon, banana and pineapple).

A good omelette is not hard to find in India, but the bread is too soft, too white and too sweet

A Little Orientation

Kochi, (formerly, and often still) Cochin is a city in the state of Kerala on the west coast of southern India. It has a population of 680,000 and is the centre of a metropolitan district with 2.1 million inhabitants.

The city sprawls across a section of Kerala's fractured coastline which constructed itself from the silt brought by the many rivers flowing down from the Western Ghats. Behind the coast is a vast maze of waterways known as the Kerala Backwaters.

Kochi with places relevant to the post indicated in red

Kochi consists of three main parts. The tourist districts of Mattancherry and Fort Kochi sit on a peninsula, while across the water is Ernakulam, the working city. Between them is Willingdon Island; 6km long and 2km wide, it was built in the 1930s by dumping the silt brought up by dredging the harbour.

Kerala Folklore Museum

Since our cooking exercise had been ‘preponed’ we had a blank day, but we had use of the car, so our plan was to visit the Folklore Museum, as recommended by friends Wilson and Norma, and afterwards we had a lunch engagement a little deeper into Ernakulam.

The streets of Kochi, well the one outside the Tea Bungalow.

Sasi turned up on time, as we knew he would. The journey was less than 10km, but even well after peak time it would take a good half hour.

The Kerala Folklore Musuem

The museum building does not look special from the side. Although clearly older than the surrounding structures, it lacks the low eves and slatted windows of traditional Kerala constructions. The front, though is entirely different, but difficult to photograph, or even see in full. It was made using parts from 25 traditional building, and showcases all three of Kerala’s traditional architectural styles, Malabar, Cochin and Travancore. Construction took 7½ years and involved 62 traditional carpenters, but I find the mixture of styles confusing – not that my opinion is important.

The front of the Folklore Museum

The museum was founded by Jacob V. Thaliath, who was joined by his son George when he left university 35 years ago. It was not the career George intended, but it has become his life’s work and he admits to being obsessed – but in a good way. He travels all over the sub-continent acquiring objects and researching their origins and meaning.

Crossing the threshold, it is obvious the museum is the work of an enthusiast who wants to display every wonder he has found. The objects are crammed together, sometimes on top of each other, but almost all are labelled with place of origin, material and date.

Inside the Kerala Folklore Museum

Anywhere else this portrayal of multi-armed Durga with her expressive face yet strangely dead eyes would have a spotlit plinth to herself, but here she jostles for room with depictions of the bull Nandi (the vehicle of Shiva), and ornamental elephants. Durga is an avatar of Parvati and her vehicle (every Hindu deity has a vehicle) is a lion or tiger or sometimes a magical blend of the two. Her name means ‘impassable, invincible and unassailable and she is associated with protection, strength, motherhood, destruction, and wars. She also slays demons, so it is unwise to stand in her way.

Durga

This Garuda is smaller, but no less flamboyant. An eagle/kite-like bird he is the vehicle of Vishnu. but is also a god and protector in his own right. He can be represented in zoomorphic form, or, as here, in anthropomorphic form. In his left hand – almost omitted from the photograph (sorry) is the jar of Amrita, the Nectar of Immortality created at the Churning of the Ocean of Milk (the story has a post all of its own).

Garuda

Shiva is often represented by his lingam, but here is a bronze muckhalingam, a penis with a face. I make no further comment. I doubt it was made to fit into the early 20th century bronze prabhavalli, (translated as ‘aureole’ which it is not, quite) but here artefacts go where they fit.

A lingam with a face, Kerala Folklore Museum

A glass painting from Tanjore is an example of an unusual artform from southern Tamil Nadu.

Tanjore Glass Painting

Kerala’s Christian heritage is also well represented. This Guardian Angel seems to have a slightly Roman look. Tradition states that Christianity was brought here by the apostle St Thomas, but Southern India had strong trading links with Rome, which is in the same general direction…

Guardian Angel

…while this group of Christian figures hits a more general European note.

Christian figures

We spent some time in the museum before inspecting the gift shop and the auditorium on the top floor. The museum is recommended in the Rough Guide and is well worth a visit, though it is outside the usual tourist area.

The LuLu Mall

It was too early for lunch and Sasi wanted to show us the LuLu Mall, in a more affluent but untouristy part of Ernakulam, so we let him.

The entrance is on the ground floor of a multi-storey car park with a clearly marked ‘drop off’ lane as if they expect customers to be brought by their drivers – as. indeed, we were. We waited for Sasi to rejoin us before passing through security where I promised to put my camera away. They would rather I did not take it in at all, but security guards are humble, underpaid, servants, so when a wealthy(ish) European makes a promise, they do not to argue. I felt obliged to keep my promise, so no photos inside.

We had coffee with Sasi, then he suggested a meeting time and left.

The centrepiece on the ground floor is a LuLu Supermarket. We had come across these in affluent Oman, where every town has a large, cool, very tidy, very clean LuLu. This was the first we had seen in India, but apart from the stock reflecting local tastes, it was as large, cool, etc, etc as any in Oman.

No photos here, but this is a Lulu supermarket in Salalah, Southern Oman

Carrying our purchases we left the supermarket and toured every floor of the mall. Each shop was bright, and tidy, and selling varied, high quality merchandise. I cannot imagine a cleaner, more affluent-looking mall exists anywhere in the world. The only problem was the absent customers; few in Kochi can afford to shop here and we had the place to ourselves.

LuLu, who own the whole mall, not just the supermarket, are Abu Dhabi based and have over 200 supermarkets mostly nestling in Asia’s wealthier corners, but the company is owned M A Yusuff Ali, a native of Nattika, just 75km up the coast from Kochi. They have five ‘hypermarkets' (three of them in Kerala) and several malls in India. The company sees great scope for growth here, but it seems slow getting off the mark.

The Mall was conveniently close to our lunch venue in Seaport Airport Road.

‘Are you having lunch with Thomas Matthew?’ Sasi asked as we arrived. I was a little surprised, but obviously Pioneer drivers talk to each other. Then we saw Thomas walking towards the Restaurant wearing a new blue shirt.

Thomas Matthew

This is our seventh Indian trip, the fourth to Kerala and the south. Six of those trips have been organised by Pioneer Travel of Kochi, one of them via a London based travel agent, the others booked direct.

Lynne and Thomas buying coconuts to drink, near Hassan, Karnataka 2010

I negotiate an itinerary with Pioneer who then book it and provide us with a car and a driver. All five drivers employed or sub-contracted by Pioneer have been excellent, but Thomas Matthew, who drove us on our second trip in 2010 (pre-blog) stood out. His self-taught English was better than most of the professional ‘English speaking’ guides; and not only could he speak, he could listen. We have encountered guides all over the world who know their stuff and can communicate well enough, but when asked a question, respond with either a baffled expression or a confident answer to a different question. Listening is the hardest linguistic skill, and Thomas can do it. He is well informed about India and elsewhere, and his thoughtful, moderate opinions on a variety of issues are worth listening to.

Visiting the shipbuilders, Calicut, Kerala

We got on so well we started to think of him as a friend, not just a driver. We kept in touch after returning home and made sure he was our driver on our next southern trip in 2016 (those posts start here). When travelling we usually lunched together because Thomas can unfailingly pick the right restaurant in an unknown town. Maybe it was against the rules, but it was a win-win situation. Thomas got a free lunch, I paid far less for three such lunches than for I would for two in a tourist trap, and we ate real local food, not dumbed-down tourist fare.

Lunch with Thomas, near Udipi, Kerala 2010

We remained in touch, and we would have asked for Thomas this year, but he has left Pioneer and is now a self-employed tuk-tuk driver. ‘It’s little money,’ he said, ‘but we get by.’

Above Vazhachal Falls, Kerala, 2010

We ate biryanis and chatted for an hour. He seems content with his new situation, no longer being away from home for two weeks or longer. Thomas is a devout Christian and takes comfort in his faith. I stupidly failed to take a photograph – but I have previous, lunching with people we do not see often and failing to take pictures is my unwanted superskill.

Lynne, Thomas and a pearl spot for lunch, near Kollam 2016

We went outside for final goodbyes, giving Thomas and Sasi a chance for a chat. ‘One of the best,’ said Sasi as we drove away. During lunch Thomas had said ‘You’ll be fine with Sasi, he’s one of the best.’ And indeed, he is and we were.

And just for balance, lunch with Sasi, Mysore 2024

Chez Thomas. 2016

In the 2016 post Kochi, a Second Visit, we had lunch in Ernakulam – another biryani - and then went to the airport, but that is not quite what happened. Before going to the airport, we went home with Thomas who had earlier invited us to meet his wife Mary and sons Daral and Dennies. This was strictly against company rules, so he asked me not to mention it. Now he no longer works for Pioneer I have his permission to tell the full story. This section will eventually migrate to the 2016 post.

Thomas lives in a village not far from Kochi Airport. It feels very rural, though Kerala is densely populated and towns and their facilities are nearby. The surroundings are very green; the monsoon rains dump ample water from May to October to keep Kerala verdant all year round. The average daily high is around 30° throughout the year, the minimum 24° which would suit me fine in the dry season but I would struggle with the humidity during the monsoon.

Village Street

Thomas owns his own house and several family members live nearby. He had recently bought a shiny, new tuk-tuk to bring in some money in the rainy season when there are no tourists.

Thomas on his doorstep (with his tuk-tuk to the right of the building)

And here is the family. Thomas and Mary with Daral, then just started at university, and Dennies, two years younger, and just finishing school. There is food on the table because, of course, guests must be fed. Our thanks to Mary for an excellent chicken curry.

Mary and Thomas with Daral and Dennies behind

And here we are with the family. Both boys have since finished university, Daral works in Kochi and Dennies is busy seeking the right opportunity.

Everybody

It is a rare privilege for travellers to be invited into people’s homes. Our thanks to Thomas and Mary for their hospitality, and to the lads for putting up with the sudden arrival of two elderly foreigners.

‘Wine Shop’

Returning to 2024… Sasi drove us back, pausing en route at a so-called ‘wine shop’ (they sell little or no wine). Back in 2016 Kerala was flirting with a form of rolling prohibition, now thankfully abandoned. Drinks licences remain difficult to come by, but there is a network of proper liquor shops with government fixed prices. For our nightcaps we acquired a bottle of Chennai distilled ‘Old Monk’ rum and a Bangalore Whisky that owes little more to Scotland than its wonderfully bizarre name: MaQintosh.

Pakoras

After a good lunch we only wanted a snack in the evening. Our hotel had a restaurant with a full menu, though no other diners, but we thought it would be alright for a snack. We perused the menu and ordered something from the youth who seemed to be in charge. He disappeared into the kitchen and after a few minutes returned to say our choice was unavailable but would we like a plate of pakoras? ‘That would be fine,’ we said, and it was – when it arrived, 40 minutes later.

Two other diners who came in after us were less fortunate. They wanted a full meal and were brought menus. After due consideration they placed an order. The lad disappeared to the kitchen and after a while came back with the message that their choices were unavailable. They had a rethink and made another order, again the lad went off and again returned with the same message. It was perfectly obvious that there was no chef, just a pakora fryer, because his next words were ‘would you like a dish of pakoras? Why the elaborate charade? Why was there no chef? I was glad we were leaving in the morning.

Kerala and More

Part 1: Cooking the Kerala Way (coming soon)
Part 2: Kochi: Not Really a Free Day

and much more to come

Romania (3): Hunedoara and Alba Iulia

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 27th of June 2023
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly.

The Castle of a Ruler of Hungary and the Birthplace of Modern Romania

The Plan for Today

Romania

We spent the nights of the 26th and 27th in Sibiu. Next day, we took a trip eastward to Hunedoara and Alba Iulia returning to Sibiu for the evening. This post covers that day trip, our time in Sibiu (on the 26th and the evening of the 27th) is covered in the previous post Cozia Monastery and Sibiu.

For most of the 120km outward journey the road followed the valley of the River Mureş in an arc north of the most direct route. We returned to Sibiu via Alba Iulia.

The positions of Sibiu, Alba Iulia and Hunedoara. All three counties are traditionally part of Transylvania

An Introduction to Hunedoara

Unlike our journey to Sibiu, todays departure was on a fast and uncongested road.

The E68 west from Sibiu

Hunedoara County

Agricultural land aside, there was not much to see, but the map suggests that most towns and villages were linear straggles along the old main road.

I am not sure exactly when we entered Hunedoara County, but for the last few kilometres we left the main road and headed southwest, through another linear town of unknown name before reaching Hunedoara around 11.00.

On the road to Hunadoara

Hunedoara shares with Buckingham the distinction of not being the administrative centre of the county that bears its name. Deva, the Aylesbury of Hunedoara County, is a 15-minute drive further north. Unlike Aylesbury, though, it is not significantly bigger than the city it usurped, both having 50-60,000 inhabitants - but Hunedoara has by far the better castle.

Hunedoara Castle

Hunedoara: Some Recent History

Hunedoara City

Until the 17th century Hunedoara was a village huddled round a castle, but with coal deposits in the south of the county and iron ore in the hills, Hunedoara was waiting patiently for the industrial revolution.

The first local steel mill dates from 1667, but the 18th and 19th centuries saw slow growth and by 1850 Hunedoara’s population was still less than 2,000. The industrial revolution eventually arrived in the 20th century and the village soon became a town. Growth accelerated further after the 1947 communist take-over. Industry was prioritised and Hunedoara became Romania’s largest steel town. By the late 1980s the population was almost 90,000.

Overlooking Hunedoara from the castle

The end of the Soviet Union in 1991 saw the market for Romanian steel shrink dramatically and mills started closing The demise of the Ceaușescus gave people freedom to move and seek out new opportunities. Young people fled to Bucharest, while after 600 years voluntary exile, most ‘Transylvanian Saxons’ (see Sibiu) returned to Germany. When Romania joined the EU, the exit accelerated, Hunedoara lost 16% of its population between 2011 and 2021, dropping to just over 50,000 inhabitants. The flight of the young has left Hunedoara with the second oldest average age of any Romanian county. But neither hope, nor steelmaking have gone entirely, ArcelorMittal are investing in modernising the Romanian industry and currently produce steel billets, reinforcing bars and specialty steels in Hunedoara.

Hunedoara: Hunyadi and Corvinus

A man known, in English, as John Hunyadi, Hunyadi János in Hungarian and Iancu or Ioan de Hunedoara in Romanian started constructing a castle here in 1446. A second phase of building a decade later was the work of his son Matthias Corvinus. Much later, when the great days of castles were over, it fell into disrepair. There was an attempt to turn the castle into a palace in the 17th century and a fanciful 19th century restoration. It now belongs to the Romanian Ministry of Culture.

I lack the expertise to know which bit was built when, so here are my pictures of Hunedoara Castle as it is now, interleaved with some of the historical background.

Across the moat to Hunedoara Castle

A keep was built on this site by Charles I, King of Hungary and Croatia (ruled 1308-1332). For reasons lost in history Sigismund of Luxembourg, King of Hungary and Croatia (r 1387-1437) gave the keep to Voyk Hunyadi, a Wallachian knight in the royal court. Voyk died between 1414 and 1419, passing the keep on to his son John.

King Sigismund noted the young Hunyadi’s organisational skills and military prowess in campaigns against the Ottoman Empire.

Courtyard, Hunedoara Castle

Sigismund died in 1437. The Hungarian crown was usually, but not automatically passed from father to son; so kings had to be elected by the Diet, a parliament of the rich and powerful. Sigismund had no son, and his daughter was obviously unsuitable, the Diet chose his son-in-law Albert the Magnanimous (though to the Jews and Hussites he persecuted, magnanimity was not his most obvious quality).

The bear pit

Albert also found John Hunyadi invaluable in his efforts to keep Transylvania out of Ottoman hands. However, he discovered sharp metal objects were not the only danger of campaigning and after two years on the throne he died of dysentery.

Chapel, Hunedoara Castle

Albert’s first son was still in utero when his father died. When the Diet eventually met to elect a successor, they rejected the by then infant Ladislaus the Posthumous and chose Władysław III, same name different spelling, who was already King of Poland. He was better qualified, being a grown-up (well he was 16) and had several years’ experience of monarching.

One of the Hunyadi/Corvinus family

John Hunyadi had been right-hand man to two monarchs, so a third was easy. Władysław lasted four years until he and Hunyadi led the Varna Crusade. It started well but finished with defeat and Władysław’s death.

Rear Tower, Hunedoara Castle

The only choice left was Ladislaus the Posthumous, and the Diet made Hunyadi one of his co-regents, and later sole regent, Governor of Transylvania and Captain General of Hungary. Effectively John Hunyadi ruled Hungary.

Lynne and Vlad walk the long corridor, Hunedoara Castle

The Turk-Basher, as he was known, was rich, powerful and popular. If he was not a Hungarian National hero before his defeat of the Ottoman Sultan Mehmet II at the Siege of Belgarde in 1456 he was afterwards, while Pope Pius II wrote ‘Hunyadi did not increase so much the glory of the Hungarians, but especially the glory of the Romanians among whom he was born.’ He also called him Athleta Christi (Christ’s Champion).

John Hunyadi from the Chronica Hungarorum 1488 (Public domain)
He does not look that fearsome!

For all his political skill and swordsmanship, Hunyadi had no defence when plague broke out in the Crusader camp. He died at the height of his powers on the 11th of August 1456.

The now teenage Ladislaus the Posthumous flexed his muscles, arresting Hunyadi’s two sons. In March 1457 he had the elder (another teenage Ladislaus) executed for murder, and released the younger brother Matthias.

The family crest, from the keystone of the Knight's Hall

The main feature of the Hunyadi family crest was a single crow, corvus in Latin which was the official language of the Hungarian Empire and would have been understood by any educated person. This explains why Hunedoara Castle is sometimes referred to as Corvin Castle and why Hunyadi's sons used the surname Corvinus.

Back out into the courtyard, Hunedoara Castle

Ladislaus died suddenly in November 1457 aged 17. His supporters claimed he was poisoned, but the cause of death was more likely leukaemia or plague. The Hungarian Diet met the next year and declared 14-year-old Matthias Corvinus king. He was the first Hungarian monarch not from one of Europe’s great dynastic families. He ruled for 32 years, and apart from military campaigns, he reformed the administration and welcomed the Renaissance into Hungary. He was a patron of the arts, founded a Royal Library and was a keen builder, including of his own castle at Hunedoara.

Exit from the Castle

Leaving the castle we paused for coffee, had a look round the stalls outside and acquired the obligatory fridge magnet.

Hunedoara fridge magnet

Then Vlad drove us the 80km to Alba Iulia.

Alba Iulia

Alba Iulia

Alba County

Alba Iulia is a similar size to Hunedoara and is the administrative centre of Alba County.

Long ago, the Romans settled here, calling the town Apulum. After they left, Slavs moved into the ruins, naming their settlement Bălgrad, meaning "white castle" or "white town.” Incoming Hungarians translated this name and added a twist of their own, calling it Gyulafehérvár meaning "white castle of Gyula" a reference to Gyula II, a 10th century Hungarian warlord. The Romanians translated it back into Latin(ish), Alba being the feminine singular of “white” and Iulia for Gyula – who displayed as much femininity as your average medieval warlord.

Alba Iulia has long been the seat of the Roman Catholic diocese of Transylvania and from 1526 to 1570 was capital of the Eastern Hungarian Kingdom which morphed into the Principality of Transylvania. Most importantly to Romanians, the Union of Transylvania with Romania was declared in Alba Iulia in December 1918 and four years later the coronation of King Ferdinand I and Queen Marie took place in the Orthodox Cathedral.

Hunedoara was about the Hungarians in Transylvania, Alba Iulia is about the Romanians

Alba Carolina Citadel

We did not really visit Alba Iulia, we visited the Alba Carolina Citadel. The Citadel is one of the star shaped fortresses that popped up all over continental Europe after the French military architect Vauban came up with the idea in the late 17th century. This one was built 1715-38 when the Hapsburgs ruled Transylvanian and gets its name from the Holy Roman Emperor Charles VI (Carol VI in these parts). In the 20th century it was repurposed as the ceremonial quarter of the city.

Model of the Alba Carolina Citadel, Alba Iulia

We approached over a bridge heading for the gap between the Orthodox Cathedral (left) and the Catholic Cathedral on the right.

The Orthodox Cathedral is  edge of photo left, the Catholic Cathedral is in the central

The guards were friendly, if a bit stiff…

Lynne and a guard, Alba Carolina Citadel

…and there was a reminder than not everything here has military connections….

Monk and children, Alba Carolina Citadel

…though the equestrian statue of Mihai Viteazul looks a little aggressive. Michael the Brave (1558 – 1601) was Prince of Wallachia from 1593, became Prince of Moldavia in 1600 and was also de facto ruler of Transylvania. It was the first time the three principalities with majority Romanian populations were under the same (Romanian) ruler. Michael the Brave is thus a symbol of Romanian unity.

Mihai Viteazul, Alba Carolina

A little further along is a cracked bell. Cracked bells seem to resonate with some people - the Liberty Bell in Philadelphia, and the huge Tsar Bell in Moscow’s Kremlin come to mind – but I do not understand why.

Mircea Roman's cracked bell, Alba Carolina Citadel

But this is not actually a cracked bell, it is a sculpture by Mircea Roman, one of Romania’s leading artists. Common themes in his work, ChatGPT tells me, are human suffering, resilience, and the passage of time. Make of that what you will.

Lunch

Two thirty is well past my lunch time, but I am not the sort of person to moan about it! Fortunately, there was a café just along from the cracked bell.

In the Bucharest post I compared Romanian breakfasts to those we had enjoyed in Moldova in 2018, lamenting their lack of variety and the absent pleasures of Moldovan pastries, sweet and savoury. I did not mention plăcintă, - flaky pastry envelopes filled with cabbage and dill or soft cheese, as they are a little heavier and usually served at lunch. We were delighted to find plăcintă on the menu here and promptly ordered one each.

Lynne and plăcintă, Alba Carolina Citadel

If plăcintă is deemed too heavy for breakfast in Moldova, in Romania it is just too heavy. One between us would have been ample, and a little more filling and a little less pastry would have improved it. For Moldovan plăcintă see Purcari Post.

Where's the filling?

Back Through the Citadel

Having entered through the west gate we had walked far enough to exit via an eastern gate known as Poarta a III-a a Cetății (the 3rd gate of the Citadel) if only to photograph it.

The Third Gate, Alba Carolina 

Then we started to walk back. The citadel was built over the Roman fort of Apulum and the later Slavic citadel. There is a place where you can look down into the past, but it is not very photography friendly

A portal into the past, Alba Carolina Citadel

The Creation of Modern Romania

We are used to Europe consisting of a finite number of countries whose well-defined borders each encompass a nation-state, but this was a 19th century idea.

The Romans left in the 3rd century CE and the Slavs arrived a couple of centuries later. By the end of the first millennium there was a large group speaking a Slav influenced Romance language which could be called early Romanian. Most lived in the intermittently warring and sporadically independent principalities of Moldavia, Wallachia and Transylvania. By the end of the 16th century the first two were usually under Ottoman control, while the third was part of the Hungarian Empire.

Eventually the decline of the Ottoman Empire allowed Moldavia and Wallachia to come together and form the first ever Romania, which became a fully independent kingdom in 1881 under Carol I.

At the outbreak of World War I, Carol's instincts were to support Germany - he and the Kaiser were second cousins - but he died before the end of 1914. Ferdinand I succeeded his uncle, and argued for a vacillating Romania to join the war in support of the Triple Entente (UK, France and Russia). With some misgivings Romania eventually became involved in 1916, but joining the winning side proved a good move.

King Ferdinand, Alba Carolina Citadel

Modern Romania was born in Alba Iulia in the aftermath of the war. Opposite the statue of Mihai Viteazul are two rows of stone plinths, each one - there are 25 - surmounted by the bust of someone who played an important part in the 1918 Union of Transylvania and Romania.

Some of the Founders of modern Romania

There was diplomacy to be done and treaties to be signed, and four or five smaller areas to be considered before the union was certified and Greater Romania came into existence in 1920. Ferdinand was now king of a country twice the size of the one he had inherited. It was time for King Ferdinand I and Queen Marie’s belated coronation which took place in the nearby Romanian Orthodox Cathedral in October 1922.

Romanian Orthodox Cathedral, Alba Carolina Citadel

St Michael’s Catholic Cathedral

Finally, we returned to Hungarian Transylvania by visiting the Catholic Cathedral (Romanians are largely Orthodox).

The first cathedral was started in 1009 under Stephen I of Hungary. It was destroyed and rebuilt after unfriendly visits from the Mongols (1241), Saxons (1277), and Ottomans (1439).

The last rebuilding was driven by the Archbishop of Esztergom, and the Regent-Governor of Hungary, John Hunyadi (yes, him again). There have been improvements and alterations since, but no major rebuilding.

Catholic Cathedral, Alba Carolina Citadel

The interior is plain, as catholic cathedrals go.

Inside the catholic cathedral, Alba Carolina Citadel

There is a memorial to Márton Áron (Hungarians put the surname first), who is buried nearby He was bishop from 1938 until his resignation in 1980, just months before his death. An outspoken critic of the Nazis during the war, Yad Vashem honoured him as one of the "Righteous Among the Nations" for his efforts to stop the deportation of Romanian and Hungarian Jews. He was a strong advocate for religious freedom and human rights during communism and spent time in prison. In 1992 Pope John Paul II started the canonisation process, which continues today at the unhurried pace of the catholic church.

Márton Áron Memorial, Catholic Cathedral, Alba Carolina Citadel

There is also the grave of John II, King of Hungary (1540-70) and more importantly to us, the grave of John Hunyadi.

Tomb of John Hunyadi, Catholic Cathedral, Alba Carolina Citadel

The effigy has obviously seen hard times, but like the Black Knight in Monty Python and the Holy Grail, Hunyadi would doubtlessly regard it as ‘just a scratch.’

We then returned ro Sibiu where the narrative continues – in the previous post.

Romania

Romania: An Introduction
Part 1 Bucharest
Part 2 Cozia Monastery and Sibiu
Part 3 Hunedoara and Alba Iulia