Monastery Turnu, Romania

This time I will share a small travel story, mostly because it is one of many examples of random (or not?) meetings with friendliness and hospitality I have experienced both during my “2017 Crossing Europe tour”, and at other destinations around the world.

After saying goodbye to Paul and Bianca in Minis, I drive east via Sibiu and turn south on the E81 into a narrow valley through the Carphatian mountains. I follow the river Olt, in direction Râmnica Vâlcea, on the other side of the mountains. The landscape is beautiful, though I hardly get a chance to enjoy it while I´m driving, since the traffic is too heavy, mostly big trucks paying no attention at all to a little camper pickup like mine. Quite stresses from feeling squeezed between the big trailers and my shoulders aching, I leave the main road for an early lunch break. A small road and a bridge along a dam takes me over the river Olt.  I proceed along the riverbanks on a road barely wide enough for two cars to pass. I drive aside and stop at a crossroad, near by an old railway line and a station, which seems abandoned by travellers a long time ago. 

From the station I get a glimpse of a distant church tower and some nice looking buildings closer to the mountains, behind a field of fruit trees, and a park. Returning to my car at the crossroad, I discover a sign saying “Mânâstirea Turnu” pointing towards the buildings I’ve seen from the station. Following my impulse and curiosity I leave the car and take a walk towards the monastery.

The monastery turns out to be both beautiful and hospitable. I stop to take some pictures just outside a park and a garden surrounding the monastery buildings.  The gate to the garden is locked by a steel wire. I see a man who is busy with maintenance work on a fence, and I ask him if I can come inside just to take some pictures. He looks up with a smile and says in fluent English; “Of course, sir, just a second”.

He leaves his tools and hurries to the gate to let me in. He assures me I can go anywhere I like on monastery and offers me a couple pears from one of the pear trees. The garden worker, by the name Dragoz (63), is not a monk or living at the monastery, but he is helping out and doing some jobs from time to time when he is asked, though most things the monks do themselves, he says. As it turns out Dragoz’ helping and friendly attitude reflects the whole monastery culture and how they meet visitors - at least from my own experience during my short, two day visit.  

I walk through the gorgeous garden and enter a square in the centre of the monastery, surrounded by a church, a small chapel and several buildings which are the living areas and centre for the monastery’s administration and religious activities. All the houses look well maintained, almost like they are newly renovated. The door to the small chapel is open and I enter a room, lit only by the light from the door and a few small windows. Although I am not all religious, I immediately feel a certain atmosphere between the thick walls, the icons and dark, solid wood panels in the room. I sit down on one of the benches for a while, and close my eyes. I can definitely imagine the monks sitting here for meditation and prayers.

Leaving the chapel a see an elderly monk coming out of one of the buildings. I excuse myself, and ask if there is any written information about the monastery available, or if someone has time to talk with me. The monk say’s “no English” and ask if I speak French, which unfortunately is not my strongest language. He gives me a sign to wait, and goes back into the building he just left. A few minutes later he’s back with one of his brothers, who speaks English well and is ready to assist me and answer my questions about the monastery. We find a bench in the garden, sit down and I get the brief history of the monastery and a glimpse into the monk’s duties and daily life. 

According “Wikimapia” and my informants, the Turnu Monastery is one of the most sacred Christian dwellings of the “Ramnic Diocese”. The Monastery has it´s historical links and roots all the way back to roman times and the 2nd century. History tells that, in the 15th and 16th century, some monks left Cozia Monastery (a more well known Monastery near by) and lived isolated, in completely poverty, sheltered only by shacks and wood made houses. The Monastery was, for centuries, a very remote and unreachable place accessible only by cart from Jiblea, and Cozia, or by sailing across the Olt, then walking along the river.

Between 1891 and 1896, the railway was built leading to Sibiu and a railway station (the one I saw on my arrival) was established near the monastery. In the past one could only reach the Calimanesti – Sibiu main road from the station by sailing across the river Olt on a floating bridge.

The life and use of the monastery has changed repeatedly through the times depending on the ruling bishops and authorities. Between 1893 and 1901, Gherasim Timus, Bishop of Arges, decided to build a summer residence at Turnu. This would have a double functionality: a spacious church and habitable rooms. The church was built at the first floor. When the new establishment was sanctified, Turnu Convent became Turnu Canonical Monastery. 

In 1932 a catastrophic fire burst out in the Monastery because of a stove in the guest chamber, and made severe damage to the buildings and much of the interiors. Due to a special effort, the fire was isolated and extinguished. Later on, the church, the belfry and two houses have been reconstructed thanks to Bishop Nichita Duma and to the donations of believers. A painter by the name Belizarie remade the paintings and the whole reconstruction was finished in 1935 – 1936. In 1961 the monastery was closed and transformed into a Resting House for the personnel of the Ramnic and Arges Diocese. This situation lasted until 1975, when monk Teoctist Dobrin was appointed as Superior and the Resting House reestablished as a convent subordinated to Cozia Monastery. According to the history, the gentle and hardworking, Father Superior managed to gather around him some young people willing to live a monastic life. In 1988, he had succeeded in reestablishing Turnu Convent as Turnu Monastery. After the retirement of the Abbot Teoctist, in 1990, monk Ioanichie Trifa was appointed Father Superior and he continues to run Turnu Monastery in the present time. Around 40 monks and friars live, and work at the Monastery today.

I get a guided tour around the monastery to see the gardens, workshops and farm buildings. The monastery is to a large extent self-provided. They have cows for milk production (they don’t eat meat) and in the gardens they are cultivating a variety of crops. They get some incomes from the wood and from running a sawmill. Some of the monks are skilled mechanics who can fix tools and machines when needed.

I am introduced to a handful of the monks, all having different duties, background and reasons to become a monk. Antonius lives with three other monks in a small villa close to the main monastery premises. In the garden surrounding the villa, they are cultivating mushrooms in addition to many different fruits, and crops. Antonio shows me a part oft the garden where they are growing oyster or abalone mushrooms, (“Pleurotus”, one of the most commonly cultivated edible mushrooms in the world).

One of the monks who fascinates me most is Cionty Georgica (60), a tall, friendly man with a long grey beard. He has lived in the monastery for more than 25 years. He tells me he leaves the monastery every year in the winter months to live as a hermit in a cave in the mountains at about a 1000 meters above sea level.  The cave is about 8 by 2,5 meters. The entrance is covered by a wall with a door to protect the inside of the cave from wind and snow. In the autumn Cionty collect supplies of crops, fruit and vegetables which he carries up to his cave to eat during the winter. When the winter comes the cave becomes totally isolated since the snow makes it impossible to go anywhere before the spring comes and the snow melts. When I ask him why he chose to live like this he just smiles and says he feels he get time to think, he understands more, and he gets closer to God. The bible is the only book brings with him, but this book is the most wonderful piece of art ever made, tells me.      

After we have finished the tour around the Monastery, I go and get my car to park inside the Monastery property for the night. I get access to a bathroom and drinking water. When asked by my guide if I need anything else for the night, I thank him no, and say I am more than happy with all the help I have got already.

After the evening fair, I am invited to supper with the monks. Since it was not expected, I have already eaten and have to excuse myself, hoping I don’t sound too ungrateful or rude.

The next morning I wake up to the church bells and a little later I hear the sound of the monks singing. It feels good in a strange way that I cannot quite explain.

     

A knock on the door gets me out of the bed. A young friar is standing outside my camper with a large portion of corn porridge, cheese and a cup of warm, fresh milk. Touched and grateful I take the food and the milk, feeling a bit embarrassed not knowing how to express my gratitude. These guys seem to live as learn.

After finishing my breakfast I get ready for a short hike in the mountains behind the monastery. The view of the large threes, the autumn yellow leaves and the majestic peaks are to tempting to let go. As I start walking, one of the monks sees me, hurries towards me and spreads out a handful of passion fruit to offer me for my hike. Once again I just have to accept, and thank him for his kindness.

I start walking up the paths which in the old days was the only connection to the monastery from the north-east, up the mountain and then descending in the Lovistei Valley villages. The first kilometres I walk through a forest of deciduous trees and mighty conifers. Small sheds shows up for about every kilometre.

Inside most of them are a small alters with pictures of saints and a cross (just as it should along a path for pilgrims and monks). By noon I reach a small peak halfway to the top of the high mountains behind the Monastery. The view is magnificent, and I celebrate reaching my goal for day with the passion fruits and a bottle of water.

Oh, what a wonderful day!

I make my way back to the monastery in less than half the time it took me to reach my destination peak. My plan is to get on the road again in the afternoon and get close to Bucharest before it’s getting dark. I need time to find a place to park safely for the night. The monks seem to be busy when I pack my car and get ready to hit the road. I leave without saying goodbye, feeling a bit sad as I see the Monastery buildings getting smaller and smaller in my rear view mirror.