Slanic Moldova. I very much doubt you have heard about this place. It is a very small town, the size of a village, up in the mountains, province of Moldova, NE of Romania. Very small place, cozy to a certain extent, well known for two things: clean air and the medicinal spring waters. This is why it is seen as a preferred destination to hundreds of tourists every week, no matter if summer or winter. It’s not uncommon to find tourists from other countries, visiting the springs here and getting treated for an entire list of afflictions, with apparently good results, I was told.
Old Casino place – Minox IIIs photograph
Once known as the “Pearl of Moldova”, the historical springs were discovered in the 18th century. Developed (slow and with intermittence) until the dawn of the 20th century, it became the most fashionable spa in the entire Kingdom of Romania. Heavily destroyed in the Great War, rebuilt in he 1920s, destroyed (again) during the 2nd WW, then rebuilt and extended by the Communist regime, after 1945. So, yes, quite an interesting story for such a small, yet pitoresque place.
This is the place where, in the early 80s, me and a few other cuckoo brains took to the mountains, only 1 tent between us and no knowledge at all regarding on what is needed to spend weeks in the woods. In those days, no cell phones and barely a soul to be met in the mountains led to very interesting adventures, many times on the edge of danger. Crossing paths with a mother bear and her cubs was one of least dangerous happenings, if you get my meaning. Very few houses, and none of the modern summer cabins which are now dotting the forests. One could walk days without meeting another human soul.
But we all learned our lessons, got smart (not less adventurous, mind) and we slowly learned to live off the nature’s bounty in the mountains, and learned to respect the said mountains. We learned that the mountain can be very friendly but can also be extremely capricious and sometime even deadly. And while the days of high trekking with the 50 kg bergen on my back are over, I can still smell the smoke of the fire lit in the evening in front of out tent, and I can still hear the guitar and the voices of my friends singing around the fire. I can still see their faces and feel their comradery when times were hard. Long time ago this was, but it seems like yesterday.
The place has been transformed by the modern tourism necessities; it is not the old mountain hideout anymore. Not a bad thing, but the modern approach to develop the place has taken away a lot of its natural wilderness and charm, at least this is how I see it now. Too many people now trekking everywhere (and many times ruining the nature), less respect for the mountain and its forests and animals, dirty trails, noise, music, and such. This place has indeed changed. It’s the same in my heart, not the same in reality.
But even so, Slanic Moldova remains a special place, for it was the place that taught me to live by myself, to be a true individual in a truly great team, to be responsible and share the hardships and joys with my friends. That is why every time I go back there, I simply revisit my youth. I am again 17, and it feels great when the Old Man Mountain remembers me and, in the long summer evenings, I hear him whispering “Welcome back, son”.