In our recent chit-chat, I made mention of the pathetic posturing of preposterous people pandering for political profit, specifically calling you out to bear witness to just how powerful that abhorrent crock doth vigorously stink.

Tied up in the revolting revelations was the passing inclusion of Bran Castle, in the context of Romanians being ripped-off. My grasp of the situation was questioned by A, a reader who encouraged me to bolster the explanation of my opinions with additional information.

Indeed, I deemed it a good idea. Perhaps a continuation of our open dialogue will lead to a better understanding of plausible perspectives. From there we’re welcome to disagree, as I freely acknowledge I am not decades-long studied in first-hand materials of Romanian history.

So, here forthwith, is my summary of facts — which I have sought to verify and do believe, to the best of my knowledge, to be as correct and true as can be ascertained — surrounding the fortress at Bran as relates the bad taste of ungracious and greedy people seeking to extort large sums of money from the poor of Romania.

1377
The Saxon people of Braşov seek to defend against Ottomon expansion by building the fortress at Bran, located in the Transylania province of the Kingdom of Hungary which is ruled by Louis I, of French and Polish ethnicity.

1382 c.
Construction is complete and the fortress is claimed property of the Kingdom of Hungary.

1402 c.
Mircea cel Batran, King of Wallachia, is given possession of Bran fortress.

1419 or 1426
After the death of Mircea cel Batran, the Kingdom of Hungary re-assumes ownership and grants possession to the Prince of Transylvania.

1498
Vladislaus II, King of Hungary, grants possession to the people of Braşov for 10 years in exchange for money.

1508
Vladislous II grants possession to the people of Braşov for 25 years with a form of foreclosure rights.

1513
Vladislous II, again, grants possession to the people of Braşov for 25 years but also removes it from the possession of the Prince of Transylvania which effectively makes it property of the city of Braşov.

1514
Bran serfs riot against heavy tax burdens of Braşov.

1541
After the Ottoman Empire conquers the Kingdom of Hungary, Transylvania is elevated to the status of an independent vassal state yet Braşov remains owner of the Bran fortress.

1613
Gabor Bathory, Voivode of Transylvania, claims ownership. Braşov has to pay.

1625
Gabriel Bethlen, Voivode of Transylvania, claims ownership. Braşov has to pay.

1651
Gheorghe Rackoczi, Voivode of Transylvania, claims ownership. Braşov has to pay.

1691
Austrian Habsburgs take control of the Principality of Transylvania. Braşov’s ownership is honored.

1785
Bran residents again riot over Braşov taxes.

1848
Revolution breaks out in Transylvania and residents of Bran apparently take control of the fortress temporarily. The Saxon populations begin to find themselves very much uncomfortably caught between Magyar nationalism, Romanian nationalism, and forthcoming pan-Germanism.

1867
Austro-Hungary is formed. Braşov’s ownership is honored.

1877
Austrian army occupies Bran fortress.

1888
Possession is restored to Braşov.

1897
A writer from Clontarf named Abraham publishes a masterpiece.

1916
After securing assurances that the Allies will formally recognize Transylvania as a territory of Romania, the Romanian government belatedly enters WWI by attacking Austrian forces in Transylvania with some initial success. But, then, a German-led army from Bulgaria clobbers Romania, who suffers a casualty rate at least five times greater than its’ combined enemies. Bucureşti is captured and the government and “royal” family flee to Iaşi.

1917
Like a wounded and cornered badger, the Romanian army aggressively defends its remaining territory.

1918
In April, under intense pressure to demonstrate loyalty to Astro-Hungary, the weak Saxon politicians of Braşov offered to give the Bran fortress to the King of Hungary. In May, Romania is forced to negotiate a surrender treaty. In November, the Allies defeat Bulgaria which allows Romania to re-enter the war on the last day. Romanian government declares unification with Transylvania in December.

1919
In March, frustration by territorial losses leads to Hungary becoming a soviet republic. In June, Hungary invades Transylvania to reclaim it. In July, Romania crushes the Hungarian army and occupies Budapest.

1920
The Treaty of Trianon recognizes Transylvania as part of Romania. The Saxons once again find themselves under intense pressure to appease their rulers with demonstrations of loyalty. Emissaries of Ferdinand von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen make it very clear to Braşov politicians that his English wife, Marie Alexandra Victoria, would very much like to have the fortress given to her. Romanian military officers “suggest” the city of Braşov give the Bran fortress to Marie who has become smitten by the charms of the property. And so it comes to pass, the “royal” family suddenly assumes exclusive ownership in a rather hasty ceremony by the city of Braşov under the pretext of “the people” supposedly “honoring” Queen Marie for her so-called “contributions” to the union of Romania.

1938
Marie, who rejected Christianity and believed in the Bahai faith, dies and wills the property to “Princess” Illeana, who is understood to not be the offspring of King Ferdinand just like most of the children that Marie had after sleeping with different men other than her husband.

1948
Romanian People’s Republic claims Bran.

1970
Illeana becomes a nun named Mother Alexandra, presumably renouncing all earthly possessions such as tenuous claims to property.

1989
Romania retains claim on Bran.

1991
Illeana dies.

2005
In advance of EU ascension, Romania passes a new law clearing the way for restitution claims on Bran to be filed by one Dominic Habsburg, a 70 year old architect living in New York.

2006
In advance of EU ascension, restitution to Mr. Habsburg is approved surprisingly quickly.

2007
Romanian people have national treasures hijacked by specious claims of high falutin ambulance chasers for ill-deserving outsiders demanding a princely ransom believed totaling around 75,000,000 dollars and most everyone just shrugs it off. At least two people on a blog delve into insane amounts of minutae regarding Braşov’s more than 600 year old history with the Bran fortress, including at least 500 years of history wherein the fortress has been abused by proclaimed royals for the purpose of extracting money, and the awkward case of the son of an Austrian who divorced a nun born from an illicit affair by a woman forced to marry at 17 to the nephew of a guy imported to replace an actual Romanian leader named Alexandru Ioan Cuza.

Travel Tip: Always, but always, support your rustic street vendors on the backalley ribbons of non-tourist zones. If a kiosk can survive selling wares to nearby residents, then it must be “quite okay” and non-lethal.

Stand proud in recognition that such venues remain sufficiently mysterious enough to give you that rush of adrenaline that comes from taking great risks to eat like the native.

Valid for the purist seeking authentic experiences in any city, town, and village. Braşov is no exception to your guiding principle of avoiding chains, franchises, and other tainted commodity establishments while visiting strange, far-flung lands at the outer realms of the known world.

Leave the guidebook at home and go get lost.

You may find the very purpose of your life was to set out as the intrepid explorer who would unwittingly discover the thrills of being the first alien to unearth a quaint little pastry shop and to shed the light of publicity upon it.

Most often, you’ll find it conveniently buried down a quiet, dusty street surrounded by bloc apartments filled with suspicious residents who peer out from behind protective curtains anytime their sixth sense signals the alarm that a foreigner has breeched the cartier perimeter.

For example, you just might stumble upon such a hidden gem while larking about the Florilor neighborhood of Braşov, Romania, in which case you’d be ruffling the feathers of the cloistered neurotics busily spying on your radically unfamiliar walking style in the vicinity of Str. Branduşelor, Nr. 50 A.

Like a sweet-toothed moth drawn toward the bakery’s light, your subconscious detects the cheerful colors of handcut vinyl stickers spelling out words you don’t understand as they slowly lose contact with the glass and find their edges peeling.

As your ciliary muscle relaxes, shelves upon shelves of pasteries reveal themselves to you. Language is no longer a barrier to comprehension. Step closer, stranger, and witness the menagerie of flavors unknown.

Sweet bread, the length of a forearm, smothered in chocolate may beckon. Perhaps the siren song of pastry shaped like polish pretzels will dance in the air. Then again, the sugar-dusted puffs stuffed with Turkish Delight may prove irresistible.

Of course, any red blooded American will recognize the unmistakable patriotism of apple strudel which has the honorable distinction of service as Official Pastry of Texas initiated just days after former Texas governor George W. Bush declared “Mission Accomplished” in Iraq four years ago.

Thoughtful photographers will survey all the various options on display before meditating deeply over the consequences of any given choice. Chaos theory clearly states that in such extreme circumstances space and time will crumble in the vortex of singularity, thus provoking bliss (academically referred to in Latinish flanc cu caşcaval).

Whatever the outcome of your particular adventure into the vibrant lives of kiosk food salesmanship, you can look forward to bragging to your friends and family about your predilection for cavalier approaches to comestible consumption.

A giant among mere men, you know no fear.

Never, but never, devolve into self-defeatist second guessing about why the woman behind the counter got upset by your taking pictures of the little shop. Or how it was absurd she would not divulge the name of the company despite it being painted on the outside of the building.

Don’t worry yourself trying to make sense of what her motivation could have possibly been for insisting you speak to the owner (whom she had no idea when or if he would ever come next) in order to verify the street address so you could publicize the yummy goodies on the dark and scary internet.

Instead, focus on the positive speculation about whether the merchants likely kept the money local by hiring their neighbor Mihai to defend them once you belatedly find out the company was suspended by national authorities concerned about the dramatically unsanitary conditions used to prepare the very pastry you ate.

Once upon a time, there was a fractured body of people living in southeastern Europe who served as little more than cannon fodder in the proxy wars of empires and spent their lives as serfs for the enrichment of their boyar overlords.

Approximately 150 years ago, the discontent for this servile existence was building across the land. People you never heard of toiled endlessly, wrote prolifically, and endured prison to bring about political unity, modernization, and the independence of a territory called Romania.

Two of them were Alexandru Ioan Cuza and Mihail Kogalniceanu, both Moldavians who together — with the help of others — freed peasants from feudalism, established a national education system, developed a modern army, and dismantled a vast church land-control scheme.

But the monarchs of European empires were loathe to recognize legitimate Romanian independence and would not let it last for long.

To help his land-owning cronies, Ion Bratianu thought it best to betray his erstwhile allies and arrange for the importation of a Napoleon-approved member of a German dynasty and have him installed as king under the very nose of their former Austrian masters.

And so it came to pass, boys and girls, that Romania was once again ruled by a foreign monarch. A German prince by the name of Karl von Hohenzollern Sigmaringen took control of the Romanian people, instituted a new paradigm protecting boyars, and over saw the adoption of the first Romanian Constitution which institutionalized anti-Semetic intellectualism to the extent of burning synagogues, beating Jews in the streets, deporting Judaic citizens, and fostering the persecution-to-death of Jewish Romanians.

Karl also organized Romania to join in the Russo-Ottoman war in an effort to legitimize Romania’s independence. It is this action for which “King Carol” is most popularly remembered.

With the outbreak of World War I, Karl wanted to side with his German kin and their Austro-Hungarian allies, but popular Romanian sentiment forced him into the uncomfortable position of casting his lot with the Triple Entente of France, Russia, and Britain. In fact, it is speculated that his desire to align Romania with Germany against public sentiment contributed to his sudden death.

The royal baton was passed to his nephew Ferdinand for lack of a direct heir.

What we modern folks can deduce is the takeaway here is the monarchy was essentially a form of influential political showmanship. A contrivance. Celebrity. There was nothing inherently traditional in having a native Romanian king. Expedient politics at best.

Ferdinand is heralded for his military acquisition of Transylvania. After him, things got increasingly cloudy, ugly, and meaningless. His rotten kid Charles (Carol II) was busy sleeping with half the women he met and abdicated his claim to “the throne.”

So, rulership was left to the grandson Michael (Mihai) who did not really rule, of course, due to his being only 5 years old. At some point, Carol II awoke from his drunken sex-crazed stupor and came rushing back to Romania to assert his right to be king and, in the politics of the day, some fools let him take charge.

He wasted a ton of money horsing around with his privileges and, when challenged, banished the parliament to form a dictatorship as was happening in other parts of Europe. He was eventually ousted by pro-Nazi military strongman Ion Antonescu but not before he escaped with some trainload of Romanian treasure.

Antonescu nominally declared young Mihai to be “the king” as he went about putting fascism to work in Romania. And we all know what happened there. World War II.

Afterward, when it was clear the Third Reich would not be owner of the globe, Mihai managed to find a little bit of guts to join the communists in tossing Antonescu out on his ear. Too little, too late. Mihai found himself unable to muster any semblance of control over Romania in this modern world. And he was exiled by the Soviets who gave him a pile of cash for his troubles.

Well, now, the communist time is mostly over. There are some remnants of regime still living in PSD (Socialist Democratic Party) such as Adrian Nastase who awarded Mihai the “Man of the Year 2003″ amidst speculation of financial tomfoolery.

Mihai had a daughter, Margarita, who did some work in UN circles of health public policy. After the revolution, it seems the entire “royal family” suddenly all quit their respective jobs and started agitating for a piece of Romanian celebrity by posing as philanthropists obstensibly concerned with the plight of orphans.

Then again, in 1990 she was stopped by Romanian police as she tried to smuggle valuable paintings out of the country. It would not take a large stretch of imagination to imagine she was hoping to sell those works of art in order to pocket a fair chunk of change.

Seeing opportunity to re-cast herself as a dignified member of royalty, Margarita (Margareta) stopped sleeping with British politician Gordon Brown for whom she was simply one of many consorts. Instead, she saw a public relations opportunity to marry an actual Romanian man. And she did.

She tied the knot with Radu Duda, who graduated from Iaşi University as a major in theater and cinematography and spent a lifetime distinguishing himself as an actor on stage and on film as a colleague of Oana Pellea. Interestingly, documents in 1989 implicate grand Prince Radu as a co-operating informer for the Securitate during his many unusual trips abroad during communist times.

However, since the moment he stumbled into fortune, it seems Radu has disowned anything to do with acting. Indeed, his own egotistical website geared for mythological self-promotion clearly states that Radu no longer enjoys any cinema at all, despite his wife’s enjoyment of what he despises.

Interesting, a man who spends his entire life in acting takes an about-face and announces his distaste for cinema.

For you see, dear reader, after marrying into “royalty,” Radu suddenly joined the Romanian National Defense College. Oh yeah, just like that. At the tender age of 42, he graduated. A quick stint at the George C. Marshall College and some program for Senior Executives in National and International Security.

Now what? We’re supposed to believe this art student is a serious military strategist?

Someone does. With connections inside the various factions vying for control of Romania, Radu managed to get himself seemingly-instantly appointed to the rank of Colonel in the Romanian army. I gotta admit that’s some serious string pulling which must be well greased with cold hard cash and political favoritism.

Yessir, a stage actor turned into a military leader with a handful of years. I trust you’re astute enough to see through the smoke and mirrors on this nonsense.

But what happened to our dear friend? Oh, well, he’s been out touring as a “special representative” of the Romanian government in order to secure various military contracts including, for one example, a very seedy interaction with BAE Systems who appears to have paid “Prince” Radu some portion of US$14 million in exchange for a contract where Romania buys naval ships.

So, here we are. The “Royal House” of Romania is not from Romania. They’ve sold out Romanians and seized properties such as Bran Castle and other places. They’ve repeatedly promoted the persecution of Jews. They wasted Romanian money for a century while the people starved.

The “Royal House” failed to demonstrate any constructive leadership in Romania and, indeed, fought democratic reforms. In modern times, they play the role of celebrities for the very small segment of society which even marginally acknowledges their existence.

And yet, today, they still play a role in politics. They are involved in the military, political bribes, national defense, and other non-trivial pursuits all while pretending to care about orphans in Romania as some sort of cover during the blatantly ruthless profiteering from their nefarious deeds.

But what gets my goat is this.

The Romanian parliament has been all too quick in handing off prized property such as Bran Castle and Peleş Castle to these so-called royal heirs when there is nothing to be gained. Yes, the Communists seized the properties in the name of the people. No, the “Royal House” has no real, legitimate claim to the value.

In fact, when it’s all said and done, all these pretenders want to do is wrestle temporary control of those physical assets, which were made or bought under the sweat and tears of average Romanians, so they can sell them back to the government for millions of dollars.

It seems to me that, historically, practically, and reasonably, these people have very little basis to inherit large sums of Romanian tax dollars.

So, why would members of parliament give away these national treasures, so that a family of foreigners who did practically nothing to deserve it get to re-sell it back? Why, essentially, give away a boatload of cash to these celebrities?

It’s a giveaway of your money. A further, unnecessary burden on the poor.

Apparently, you’re still chattle. Your sufferings mean nothing. And some of your people continue to starve in order to enrich the stolnici.

As sure as Alexandru and Mihail are rolling over in their graves, no one questions a thing.

Did you know? One of the key heroes of the film Children of Men is a Romanian woman. I was caught off guard when I started to recognize what she was saying (since she did not speak English in the movie).