Romania
Romania: A Road I Had Already Travelled in My Mind
TL;DR — For the Impatient Traveller
A solo BMW GS 1200 motorcycle road trip through Romania in 2024 became far more than just a biker’s adventure. From exploring the vibrant streets, nightlife, and historic landmarks of Bucharest, to fulfilling a lifelong dream of riding the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway, this unforgettable Romania road trip delivered everything a solo traveller could ask for—Dracula country, authentic Transylvanian villages, curious locals, roadside pancakes deep in bear territory, unexpected wildlife encounters, and one of the most scenic Romania to Bulgaria road trips imaginable. More than just a Romania motorcycle journey, this was where childhood fascination with Eastern Europe, folklore, music, and adventure finally met reality.
The Lost Mumbaikar says:
“Some roads are destinations. Others are unfinished dreams waiting for the right motorcycle.”
Where Childhood Imagination Finally Met Reality
Some countries enter your life through airports.
Some arrive much earlier. Romania, for me, had been living in my imagination long before I ever landed there.
As a child growing up in India, Eastern Europe always felt mysterious. We knew little, but somehow it felt familiar. Maybe it was because our generation grew up collecting fragments of the world through music, television, films, and imagination rather than Instagram reels and travel influencers.
For me, one of those early emotional connections came through George Zamfir.
His haunting pan flute music had a strange ability to make even silence feel emotional. Long before I understood Romania geographically, I somehow felt connected to its mood. In fact, before this trip, I deliberately loaded George Zamfir’s-The Lonely Shepherd onto my phone because I wanted Romania to sound exactly the way I had imagined it all those years.
Then there was Michael Jackson. Like many Indian kids of my generation, even in a small place like Morak, Rajasthan, Michael Jackson was larger than life. I still remember watching clips of his historic 1992 Bucharest concert on our black-and-white TV, especially that legendary moment when he simply stood frozen on stage for nearly two minutes while the crowd completely lost its mind. To a small-town boy in India, Bucharest was no longer just a city in Europe. It had become part of that larger, fascinating world I dreamed of one day seeing myself.
And then there was another strangely personal layer; The Romani or gypsy connection.
As Indians, we often hear historical references linking the Romani people to migrations that may have originated centuries ago from the Indian subcontinent. Whether explored academically or simply absorbed culturally, that idea always fascinated me. The music, the wandering spirit, the road-first lifestyle, the storytelling energy. Maybe that is why Romania always felt oddly familiar.
And of course…
Dracula. Let us be honest. For many of us, Romania arrived in childhood imagination wearing a cape.
So when I landed in Bucharest in 2024 for a solo motorcycle trip, this was not simply another country visit.
This felt like stepping into a place I had already visited many times in my imagination.
Bucharest: The Opening Act
People often ask me why solo road trips still excite me even after so many unforgettable family journeys.
The answer is simple. Family travel gives me some of life’s happiest memories. Solo travel gives me conversations with myself.
Both matter.
Romania belonged firmly in the second category.
Just a few months earlier, in December 2023, I had already used the same Schengen visa for an incredible family winter journey through Greece, Albania, Kosovo, North Macedonia, France, Germany, and Luxembourg. Most sensible travellers would have probably called that enough.
Apparently, I am not most sensible travellers. The visa still had life left in it.
And more importantly, so did my curiosity. Some opportunities should not be politely wasted. So in June 2024, I landed in Bucharest with a plan that looked simple on paper and mildly ambitious in reality.
Rent a BMW GS 1200 for seven days, spend a few days exploring Romania, fulfil a long-held dream of riding the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway, then cross into Bulgaria before continuing a solo road journey through Moldova, Poland, Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania.
Simple plans, as travel repeatedly reminds me, rarely stay simple. I checked into Bucharest’s Old Town and instantly knew I had made the right decision. Because some journeys are not about ticking countries. They are about finally saying yes to a version of yourself that has been waiting patiently for years.
Bucharest has an interesting personality. By day, it feels elegant, historic, slightly serious, carrying visible reminders of its communist past. By night, Old Town transforms completely. Bars come alive. Streets fill with music and conversation. Restaurants spill into lively alleys. Travelling solo suddenly does not feel lonely.
I explored the obvious landmarks because some places deserve their classics. The Palace of Parliament is absurdly oversized in the most fascinating way, less a building and more an ego cast in concrete, and absolutely a must-visit in Bucharest. Revolution Square carries history you can still feel. Hidden churches appear where you least expect them. A slow wander through Bucharest Old Town (Lipscani) is a must-do in Romania’s capital, especially if you enjoy discovering lively streets, architecture, and unexpected corners without an itinerary.
Romanian food deserves far more attention than it gets. The local street food had character. Not polished. Not overdesigned. Honest food with flavour. If you visit Bucharest, do not miss classics like Sarmale (Romanian stuffed cabbage rolls), Mici (those addictive grilled minced meat rolls), and a proper bowl of Ciorbă de burtă if you are feeling adventurous.
And then nightlife. Let us just say Bucharest nightlife is a must-experience if you enjoy cities that come alive after dark.
But if I am honest, Bucharest was never the main event. The real dream was waiting further north, on the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway.
The Road Every Biker Dreams About
Leaving Bucharest felt strangely final because I knew I would not be returning to the comfort of Bucharest Old Town, its lively streets, or those easy evening walks. From here, the road would keep moving forward toward the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway, before eventually taking me onward from Romania into Bulgaria, so this was my real goodbye to Bucharest and the comfort of its Old Town.
As I rode out, Romania slowly began changing character. The city noise faded, traffic thinned, and the roads became quieter, almost as if the country was preparing me for a different version of itself. Soon, villages began appearing where life still seemed beautifully untouched by modern urgency. Horse carts moved along the roads as naturally as cars, and elderly locals watched me curiously whenever I stopped to launch my drone, though I often felt they were far more fascinated by the oversized BMW GS 1200 motorcycle than the flying machine above them.
There was something deeply authentic about those moments. No staged tourism. No performance. Just ordinary life unfolding exactly as it always had, which, for a traveller like me, is often far more beautiful than perfectly curated attractions. This was the real charm of a Romania road trip.
And then came Bran Castle, the famous Dracula Castle in Romania connection that no traveller can realistically ignore. Yes, it is touristy. But some places earn the right to be touristy. I stopped, clicked the mandatory photo of myself and the BMW GS 1200 with the castle in the background, admired the atmosphere, and moved on. Because if I am honest, while Dracula may sell the postcards, my real obsession was still waiting ahead on the road.
Even if the Dracula narrative has been commercially amplified over the years, Transylvania itself makes the mythology feel believable. Dark forests, medieval villages, cold mountain air, old stone architecture, and misty landscapes that constantly make your imagination work overtime.
But for me, roads have always mattered more than monuments.
And the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway was calling.
Often ranked among the world’s greatest driving roads, thanks in part to Top Gear famously calling it one of the best road experiences on the planet, this was the real reason I had come. A spectacular mountain highway cutting through Romania’s Carpathian Mountains with dramatic hairpins, tunnels, elevation changes, and scenery designed to make bikers emotional.
Instead of rushing through, I chose to stay overnight in the countryside, and that turned out to be one of the best decisions of the trip. The silence felt different there. Simpler. Cleaner. The cold mountain air, curious locals observing this Indian biker with his drone and oversized German machine, and the complete absence of urban noise made Romania feel wonderfully real at that moment, exactly the kind of authenticity you hope for in a Romania motorcycle journey.
The Road I Came For: Transfăgărășan
The next morning felt different. Not because the weather had changed. Because I had waited years for this.
Long before I owned big motorcycles, long before solo road trips became part of my life, the Transfăgărășan Highway had already earned mythical status in my mind. Every biker has roads they quietly promise themselves they will ride one day. This was one of mine.
And now, standing there with my BMW GS 1200 in the cold Romanian morning, it did not feel like another day of travel.
It felt like arriving at a long-postponed conversation with myself.
The Transfăgărășan Highway, often spoken of as one of the greatest driving roads in the world, slices dramatically through Romania’s Carpathian Mountains, connecting Wallachia and Transylvania. But honestly, technical descriptions completely fail to capture what this road actually feels like.
This was not engineering. This was emotion poured into asphalt.
Hairpin bends that force your full attention. Fog rolling over mountain ridges like a film set. Dense forests straight out of Dracula folklore. Waterfalls appearing unexpectedly. Tunnels. Dramatic elevation. Endless excuses to stop, breathe, and simply admire the madness of whoever thought this road was a good idea.
At moments, it genuinely felt like a Fast & Furious mountain chase scene, minus the exaggerated stunts, plus actual bears, and with far better scenery than Hollywood could ever afford. But beneath all the adrenaline was something more personal.
As a child in India, Romania had already existed in my imagination through music, folklore, and mystery. Now I was not imagining it anymore. I was riding through it.
Every biker should do this at least once. Not for social media. Not for bragging rights. For that rare feeling when a dream you carried quietly for years finally becomes real.
Bears, Pancakes, and a Fox With Attitude
Along the highways, I started noticing signboards warning about bears.
At first, I assumed it was standard caution. Then I saw one. Then another. And another.
By the end of the Romanian stretch, I had seen almost ten bears and one fox.
Some of the bears were strangely calm around humans. Locals later explained that years of tourists feeding them had changed their behaviour. Some now wait near roads expecting food rather than hunting naturally. That created a strange emotional conflict.
I was travelling solo, carrying barely enough for myself. When I travel alone, that is usually my style. I do not overpack or carry food for the journey because solo travel, for me is also about discovering authentic local food along the way rather than surviving on packed snacks from the previous stop. So every time I saw one of these massive animals standing by the roadside, watching passing vehicles with quiet expectation, I felt strangely guilty that I had nothing to offer.
That is also my advice to fellow travellers: however tempting the moment may feel, do not feed wild animals. Locals explained that years of tourists doing exactly that had made some of them dangerously comfortable around humans, expecting food from passing vehicles instead of keeping the natural distance that protects both them and us.
Then came the fox. Unlike the relaxed roadside bears, this one had attitude.
At one point, it came close enough while I was on the bike that I had to quickly lift my leg to avoid trouble.
A great story later. A stupid risk in real life. That is solo travel. Brilliant memories often come with terrible risk assessment.
Somewhere in the middle of all this, deep in what felt like nowhere, I found a roadside truck stall selling pancakes and drinks by a Romanian couple.
Simple food. Mountain air. One of those unexpectedly perfect travel moments.
I asked if they were not scared being surrounded by forests full of bears.
They laughed. “Now it’s normal.” Easy for them to say.
Crossing Into Bulgaria
Most travellers would assume the adventure peaks once you conquer the legendary Transfăgărășan Highway. I thought the same.
I was wrong.
I stayed overnight near Sibiu, one of Romania’s most charming historic towns, enjoying authentic Romanian food, local beer, and the quiet satisfaction of knowing I had finally ridden a road I had dreamt about since my Mumbai biking days.
Back then, riding my humble Bajaj Pulsar through city traffic, roads like this belonged to magazines, television, and imagination. Sitting there in Romania after conquering the Transfăgărășan on a BMW GS 1200, I quietly smiled at that younger version of myself.
Travel does that.
It occasionally allows you to shake hands with your old dreams.
The next morning, the Romania to Bulgaria road trip continued, but Romania had one final surprise. The forests.
Dense, cinematic, and endlessly atmospheric, these roads felt straight out of an old European adventure film. Even after the mountain drama of Transylvania, the forests leading toward the Bulgaria border carried their own mood. Mist between trees, lonely highways, occasional villages, and that constant feeling that wildlife could appear at any moment.
And then came the border crossing. If you have travelled on a big adventure motorcycle, you know the quiet respect riders often receive. The deep growl of the BMW GS 1200 announced my arrival before I reached the checkpoint. Cars politely moved aside, drivers gestured me forward, and I barely spent time in line.
No arguments. No frustration. Just that unspoken biker respect travellers often understand.
Perhaps they recognised a long-distance traveller. Perhaps they simply appreciated the machine. Either way, it was one of those small travel moments you never forget.
And just like that, Romania became Bulgaria.
But emotionally, it felt less like crossing a border and more like turning a page.
Romania had given me far more than a great motorcycle road trip.
It had given me closure on a dream I had carried since my younger Mumbai days.
Final Thoughts
Some journeys are about destinations. Others are about meeting younger versions of yourself. Romania was the second kind.
I came for the Transfăgărășan Highway. I stayed for the atmosphere. I remembered the music.
I smiled at childhood Dracula fantasies. I admired village simplicity. I took risks around wildlife I probably should not have.
And I left with that rare traveller’s satisfaction when reality somehow exceeds imagination.
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