worldschool Vampire Hunters

When our family set out for Transylvania in late October, we had one goal: to find Dracula. We had visions of mist-shrouded castles, blood-red moons, and shadowy figures lurking in ancient alleyways. What we found instead was something much richer, though not without its surprises.

Our journey began in Sibiu, a stunning medieval city with cobbled streets, Baroque architecture, and an air of quiet elegance. Crisp autumn air carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from street vendors, and golden leaves crunched beneath our feet as we wandered through the historic squares. Yet, despite its enchanting appearance, Sibiu was not exactly thrilled to be associated with Dracula.

It turns out that while Bram Stoker’s infamous vampire may have drawn inspiration from the historical Vlad the Impaler, the real Vlad Dracul is considered a national hero in Romania, particularly by the people of Sibiu. Our costumed children, eagerly clutching their empty trick-or-treat bags, found no takers among the bemused shopkeepers. Halloween, at least as we knew it, had not yet taken hold here. We were clearly alone in our hunt for the undead.

It was a helpful local, bemused by our persistence, who pointed us toward Sighisoara—the alleged birthplace of Vlad the Impaler himself. So we set off, driving two and a half hours through the Romanian countryside, which looked eerily as if it had been plucked straight from Stoker’s journals. Rolling hills were cloaked in autumn gold and burnt orange, with occasional stone ruins adding to the mysterious ambiance. Mist curled lazily over the valleys, and we half expected a bat to swoop down and lead us to our quarry.

Sighisoara greeted us with a far more festive embrace. The entire Old Town, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, was like a kitschy love letter to the Prince of Darkness. Here, Dracula’s legend was fully embraced. The cobblestone streets were lined with themed restaurants, souvenir shops selling vampire fangs and capes, and a house claiming to be the birthplace of Vlad himself. Even a museum—“Dracula Investigation: Vlad Dracula, The Untold Tale”—had sprung up to cater to vampire hunters like us. While it had a definite tourist-trap feel, it was a vast improvement over the cold reception in Sibiu. Yet, we wanted more—less Disneyland, more Transylvania.

As fate would have it, we arrived just in time for Bran’s annual Halloween festival. Unlike Sibiu, Bran fully embraced the spooky season. Shopkeepers and visitors alike were in costume, the streets were lined with vendors selling Dracula-themed treats, and an eerie, festive energy pulsed through the town. We managed to get our hands on limited edition VIP tickets to tour Dracula’s Castle after dark, and while it was an impressive fortress, it was also packed with tourists and—truth be told—not all that creepy. Still, there was something magical about standing in the grand halls, peering out over the mist-covered valley below, and imagining a time when myths and history blurred together.

As we left Transylvania the next day, we reflected on our quest. No, we hadn’t found a vampire to drive a stake through, but we had discovered something far more rewarding. In a land known for its cold, medieval exterior, we found warmth—in the stunning landscapes, the centuries-old legends, and the people who, despite their initial skepticism, shared their stories with us.

Transylvania had bewitched us, and we would return in a heartbeat.

Just as we were preparing to leave, a cloaked old man, lurking in the shadows of a stone-walled building, suggested we head to Bran Castle. The dramatic pause he took before disappearing into the night only solidified our decision: we were going to Dracula’s Castle.

The next morning, we set off on another three-hour drive, winding through misty mountain roads toward Bran. If Sighisoara was a quaint storybook village, Bran was pure gothic theater. Bran Castle loomed above us, an imposing fortress perched on a rocky hill, exactly the kind of place where one might expect to find a vampire brooding in the highest tower. History tells us that Vlad Dracul may never have actually set foot in this castle, but since no one can say for sure that he didn’t, the town has run with the legend.