Dracula Lives 7: Vampires don't kiss!

Looks like a wine cellar.

The same metal bucket keeps appearing: a hybrid creature between a knight and a red-eyed undead pushes me away from the group. It's getting noticeably colder. No jacket, no fur coat, no matter how expensive, could relieve this cold. She hurts. It crawls through every pore. Slowly crawls towards the heart. It is clear to me: if the cold takes hold of the heart, every human emotion, every compassion evaporates.

This shock-frozen heart would only consist of ice crystals. This must have been what happened to Frodo from “Lord of the Rings”. Approximately. Before the cold reaches my heart, it takes possession of my bones and joints. They refuse to perform their functions and fall into a state of shock. An interesting situation if it weren't for the all-encompassing fear.

Space, time, perception: united into a new dimension, reacting - hello Trekkies - at warp speed. But my mind, my brain, is awake, at attention. "So am I part of the movie Cloud Atlas?"

A beautiful day

This morning I sit down demonstratively at the breakfast table with Roger, Ludmilla and Tatjana, the mysterious family from the far north. For the last few days they have been happy to sit isolated from the others, which not everyone in the group likes. I can relate. Some people don't feel like small talk. Especially not in the morning. In the bright neon lighting of the breakfast room, the three of them appear even paler to me than usual. Tatjana smiles at me in a friendly manner, her mother Ludmilla seems taken aback and asks: "Tell me, Bernd, what kind of terrible aftershave do you have? It smells horrible. " Now it's me who's taken aback in surprise. "Well, it'll definitely be a nice day."

Romanian wine

We are on road 14B in the direction of Blaj, a small Romanian town in Transylvania with 17,800 souls and singing "Romanian wine is like the blood of the earth, come pour me some and when I get sad...", in Based on Udo Jürgen’s hit Greek Wine. Shortly before the town we turn towards the winery. A wine tasting is on the program. Today is going to be fun. We rehearsed the emergency in the evening. Henrietta and her husband Simon, both doctors and also from the Palatinate, organized beer and champagne in the supermarket to reflect on the journey every evening. Claudia was noticeably quiet, her brother Uwe less so, and Mom enjoyed the social gathering and told Angelo stories until his ear bled. I couldn't get drunk, ever. I can't have more than two beers or wine, then I'll feel sick.

Detours

At first I ran down the halls in a panic. But every aisle turned out to be a dead end, in front of which stood my red-eyed tin bucket. Now I'm trapped. There is no trace of the group. It seems as if they have vanished into thin air. This wine cellar is full of secrets. I'm looking for a way out, escape seems absurd to me. There is a wheel hanging on the ceiling above me. And again there is this blue light, which in the next moment takes on the shape of the grimacing face. I pull out my cell phone and want to capture him in a picture. I can hardly manage it, it whizzes around me too quickly even for the lenses of this top-of-the-line device. Again I feel this unbearable cold inside me, I gasp for air, nausea overcomes me, everything blurs before my eyes. It smells like decay! He smells of decay.

The unknown grimacing face drags me through a dark hallway. Landscapes rush past me, the train of soulless people spews its stinking smoke into the landscape, clouding my senses. “This is the deprivation of freedom!” I shout to him. "I'll face you away tom the European Shorts of Human Flights!" No, not again! They take possession of my language center. There's something like Monty Python's Life of Brian about

We reach a place I didn't expect. It is not Törzburg, Dracula's castle, or rather Bran Castle, as the historic building is called today. The fact that he is said to have lived there defies any description, a widespread misunderstanding that was solely the work of Bram Stoker. After all, good business for the tourism industry in Romania today.

Dracula's birthplace: Sighisoara

Sighisoara is located in Mures County, Transylvania Region. The small town has around 24,000 inhabitants and its old town has been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1999. Sighisoara is the birthplace of Vlad Tepes, or Vlad III. Draculea, the Impaler. In 2001, the city fathers and mothers considered a Dracula theme park, but the planning met with strong criticism from the population. The theme park didn't come. The city's landmark is the hour tower, built in the 14th century, which rewards you with a magnificent view over the town.

Your journey ends here

The grimacing face seems to be something like the count's personal servant. A kind of butler in ugly. "Your journey ends here!" There is no point in contradicting him. Only disorganized letters flicker around in my head. But he understands my silence and breathes a foul breath: "We're going through the door now." in contrast to. His gnarled fingers point to a very old oak door with an oversized key in the door lock. "You've reached your destination. Lord Dracula is waiting for you!"

My navigation system screams: Please turn back!

"Always remember: vampires don't kiss!"