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a taste of transylvania

Vested for the promised 28°C and then some I left Bucharest, ready to take on all the vampires Transylvania could throw at me. Obviously ready to play along with my vampire clichés, Braşov not only brought on the dark and forbidding forests but the cold and the rain, determined to give my toes a frost bite.

trading garlic for a pair of woolen socks



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