Or is it …
I can’t tell if things are getting spookier in Transylvania, because at the point I’ve arrived to in the novel, Dracula is in England, and here in reality, Sinaia, Romania, is a magical fairyland.
We took a walk in the autumnal hills. As we neared the end of the road to get in the woods, we saw two huge stray dogs laying there – one a squat, muscular German shepherd, the other a huge, muscular border collie. I tried to edge around them but they got up and came over, it turns out, for a big old scratch behind the ears. They followed us the rest of our hike.
We also went to the castle – because it’s Romania, so of course there’s a castle – but it turns out, it wasn’t spooky at all.
It was luxurious, grand, elegant, mind-boggling – but other than the collection of medieval weapons, it just wasn’t spooky.
The Romanian king – who was Prussian – built this dazzling palace in Sinaia, which was already famous for its beautiful monastery. King Carol I and his wife lived in unparalleled luxury at Peles Castle.
Carol I commissioned Gustav Klimt to paint portraits of his ancestors on the walls.
Virtually every knick-knack, every inch of intricately-carved wood paneling, plush carpeting, and fixture was priceless in this castle.
So I don’t know what to say. Maybe all the spook is in London, where in the novel Dracula is causing mayhem. Transylvania is just – to use my favorite adjective – charming.