The Dracula Tour to Transylvania- A serial/Pt. 1

Our new mates! Dave & Pat!
We’re not the relaxing type. We don’t loll around in the sun on holiday. We’re constantly exploring the strange and unusual from exhibits to events. One look at our respective wardrobes, and you know we’re not your run of the mill Gap crowd. So when it came to planning our summer holiday, we were looking for a bit of excitement.

One of the possible contenders, and number one with a bullet, was to go running with the bulls in Spain. The Festival of San Fermin, as romanticized by Hemingway, sounded like a great idea, but when I began researching, I discovered there were no direct routes to Pamplona, once you landed in Madrid you’d have to take a train, bus or private plane to the area. Even more disappointing was those shrewd Spaniards doubled the prices of every hotel, B&B, restaurant, and drinking establishment for the two weeks of the festival to effectively gouge festival revelers and cover the other 50 weeks when the city moves merrily along without the crush of touristas. (Ka-ching!)
With hotels averaging $350 per night per person (Ka-ching, kaching), quick calculations were heading into thousands and that was without airfare or the essential veranda bookings required if you wish to see the bulls run beneath you every morning while you enjoy your breakfast. Balcony reservations $200 per person. Breakfast, additional. (Ka-ching, ka-ching, ka blooey!)

On to plan B.
Plan B was the Dracula Tour to Transylvania. It was a one week group tour departing from JFK which covered everything from visiting Bucharest, Vlad Tepes final resting place (that’s Vlad the Impaler to you), driving up the Borgo Pass and spending the night at Hotel Castle Dracula. It seemed to be just the ticket for Ma and Pa Goth and with the cost of the package including airfare, all coach travel, accommodations, some meals, coming in less than just a few days hotel stay in Spain, I booked the trip immediately.

Since we jump the pond on average, twice a year, we don’t worry about the things that hang up novices, like travelers cheques (don’t bother, ATMs are virtually everywhere and you get the days best rate on currency exchange) phones (we have mobiles with international albeit pricey long distance that cover virtually every country up to the Chinese border) and luggage (we take carry-ons that hold several days clothes should we lose something and TSA locks that make it easy for customs to check out anything suspicious), but we’re so spoiled flying out of Philly International all the time, that JFK was a whole new world. So aside from the hassle of having to get there, we were ready for the Dracula Tour (blah, blah, blah).

Have you ever seen the show Airplane where people arrive at the Airport with far less than the requested 3 hours before international flights? That’s not us. We were there so early that we had plenty of time to park ourselves and luggage for a few glasses of vino before Air France was even accepting check in for our flight. So there we sat, discussing the beginning of our adventure, when at the very next table, we met the first of or merry group of co-travelers, Dave and Pat. “Poor souls.” I thought. They were so sweet, and treated us like real people. I wanted to whisper “Run away from the weirdos now, while you can.” But they stayed. Question is, would that be something they’d eventually regret?.......
To be continued