Bitten by the boarding bug? Then head to Transylvania … just don’t forget to pack your garlic.

Vampires are big business in Romania. The country has well and truly capitalised on its reputation as the home of the legendary bloodsucker, with all kinds of bloody kitsch available to tourists. You can buy vampire T-shirts, vampire ashtrays, vampire masks and vampire mugs – the latter for guzzling down the blood-flavoured local soft drink, Dracola, although perhaps I just made that last one up.

The traditional home of vampires is the province of Transylvania – a place that instantly evokes images of werewolves howling under full moons and sharp toothed locals quenching their thirsts from the jugulars of virgins. And in reality, the place is just as wild – a land of raging rivers, wolves and the mighty Carpathian Mountains, which cut a giant sickle-shaped arc through the province.

It’s these peaks that are the reason for my visit. For in winter, they’re heaped with snow, providing some of Europe’s hottest – and cheapest – skiing and snowboarding. Armed with a crucifix and garlic (just in case), my plan is to spend a week snowboarding at a handful of resorts in the Prahova Valley, about 150km north of the country’s capital, Bucharest.

Azuga: elevation 1601m

The resort of Azuga, my first stop, is relatively new, which is more than can be said for its chairlifts. They resemble a piece of playground equipment banned for safety reasons, and feel like it too. The old girl takes a full 20 minutes to creak to the top, where I’m confronted with white-out conditions. The mountain seems deserted, allowing me to make the most of a thin layer of virgin powder. By the bottom of my first run, my quads are burning; I haven’t been snowboarding for six months.

Azuga has three main trails and they cut through the trees at a decent gradient, making them ideal for intermediate boarders, such as myself. I’m practically the only person around, with only 20-odd skiers and boarders sticking to the very bottom of the slopes. Where was everyone? Perhaps they were scared of someone … or something.

The people I do see are all absolute beginners, spending the day displaying imaginative interpretations of the stack. It’s easy to see why Romania, despite its mountainous terrain, has won just one medal at the Winter Olympics (a bronze in the two-man bobsleigh in 1964).

Back in town, I retire to a bar and down shots of the national rocket fuel, Tuica. Made from plums, it has the kick of a donkey. My drinking buddy is an old local whose red eyes suggest that he’s either seriously stoned, or he gets up to a bit of the old bloodsucking come nightfall.

1 | 2 | 3  Next  >>