Patricia Furstenberg, Writer of Historical Fiction, Children's Books
Travel via Stories
Between 1 and 25 December enjoy on my blog, all free on this page, my Christmas gift: an Advent Calendar of riddles leading you to Romanian winter legends, first snow songs, and recipes to a seasonal dish to feast on! May your Christmas be Merry and your winter full of peace!
Continue reading “Your Christmas Gift, an Unique Advent Calendar of Romanian Winter Legends, Snow Songs & Feast”
Every year, on the first morning of December, when villages wake under frost and the rooftops shine like glass, I find myself thinking back to a moment when Romania reinvented itself.
A little more than a century ago, in 1918, a handful of historic provinces decided they wished to speak with one voice. Their choice reshaped a country, Romania, but also the map of Eastern Europe and the future of millions.
Most people know December 1 as Romania’s National Day. Fewer know the story behind it; it is one of war, collapse, hope, but mostly of the determined will of ordinary people.
Continue reading “Celebrating 1 December, Romania’s Day”
High in the Orăștie Mountains, where the beech forests stand in quiet ranks and the old Dacian fortresses watch over the ridges, a forester once stumbled upon a glimmer of ancient sovereignty. He had been walking a lonely path between two villages when he noticed something strange at the roots of two immense beeches—trees so old their crowns interlaced like clasped hands. When he brushed aside the soil, gold winked back at him. Gold no map ever mentioned.
Continue reading “The Gold Beneath the Beeches, a Dacian Treasure of King Koson”
When Emperor Trajan marched north to face the Dacians, it wasn’t just another Roman campaign. It was personal. The Dacians, led by their fierce king Decebalus, had grown too rich, too proud, and way too independent. For Rome, as a winning empire, Dacia was both an embarrassment and an obsession.
Continue reading “The River Treasure and One Map that Shouldn’t Exist”
Chasing Dracula at Tihuța Pass, one Saint Andrew’s Eve when the wolves are said to speak and the living seal their doors with garlic, I strode that winding road. Between Fiction and the Carpathians was born there, where the veil thins and the line between myth and memory fades.
Continue reading “Chasing Dracula at Tihuța Pass, Between Fiction and the Carpathians”