Talking Travel with Eric Nuzum, Author of The Dead Travel Fast

by Kelly Amabile on

I’ve never watched a horror movie from start to finish and I’m not a fan of haunted houses. Needless to say, I didn’t have high hopes that I would make it through Eric Nuzum’s new book about stalking vampires. But the title intrigued me enough to start it, and then, well — when a book begins with someone attempting to drink their own blood, you just can’t help but get sucked in.

For Nuzum, it all started over breakfast one day when he noticed several vampire references pop up during the course of his morning meal. His curiosity at the ubiquity of vampires eventually grew into an all-out quest to discover what makes these fanged bloodsuckers so darn popular. The results of his research are gathered in The Dead Travel Fast: Stalking Vampires from Nosferatu to Count Chocula, an intelligent and thoroughly entertaining look at the world’s fascination with these mysterious creatures.

Tracking the history of vampires took Eric from his home in D.C. to a handful of U.S. cities, as well Romania and England. Along the way he made friends with a countess, spent time in a coffin, almost lost his lunch on a road trip through Transylvania, conducted crucial investigative research at the Las Vegas topless revue Bite, and watched a ton of horrible vampire movies (216 out of a possible 605 films that exist.)
Nuzum is a fantastic storyteller — his chapter about the Dractour he took in Romania is a hilarious travel memoir all by itself. But the entire book (a historical hybrid of cultural insight, quirky facts and useless trivia) is worth a read, even if vampires are not your thing. After reading this book, you may discover that in fact, they are.

Earlier this week Eric took the time to answer questions about his new book and the places he visited during his vampire-hunting expeditions. Here’s what he had to say:

You explain in the book why you embarked on this vampire quest, but what about the title – How and when did you come up with it?

“The Dead Travel Fast” is a line from a Gottfried August Burger poem called “Lenore” that’s quoted in Bram Stoker’s Dracula. In the opening scenes of the novel, Jonathan Harker is traveling from England to meet Count Dracula. Once he arrives in Transylvania, just about everyone he encounters tries to talk him out of going, but he doesn’t listen. One of the locals utters the phrase in response to hearing about Harker’s headstrong journey. The translation Stoker used is a bit sloppy, with most translations of the poem using the phrase “the dead ride quick” instead.

In your travels from D.C. to the “ass end of Europe” in search of vampires, did you meet other folks who actually attempted to drink their own blood?

Their own? No, I seem to be the only dummy willing to admit trying that. Now, I am sure that many of the vampire-curious have sampled their own blood before possibly graduating on to the blood of others, but no one was stupid enough to admit that publicly. Except me, of course.

(Supposed) vampires congregate in some pretty bizarre locations. Any clue why many of them seem to prefer meeting at restaurant chains like Jillian’s and Ruby Tuesdays?

Not really. I think that whether they like to admit it or not, most people (vampires and otherwise) go to lousy chain restaurants.

So what is it with all these Dracula and Goth tours that combine fact and fiction? And why do folks love them so much, regardless of whether or not they know they are being told false information?

Because often times the fictitious version of history is much more appealing than the truth. It’s hard to blame the tourists, though, they are on vacation for crying out loud. They want something exciting. When they go to Transylvania, they want to see Dracula’s castle. Now, the fact that none of Vlad Dracula’s castles still exist (other than in ruins–and all the Stoker-invented castles are fictional) doesn’t stop them. They just find existing castles along major highways and say, “Hey tourists, look here, it is ‘Dracula’s Castle.'” Seriously, that is what happens.

What is your take on the tourism component of this global vampire phenomenon and the “tourist trap” aspect of it?

The people who are the most perplexed by the vampire tourism industry are the residents of Romania (Dracula’s Transylvania is now part of modern-day Romania). They know Dracula as Vlad Dracula, the 15th century tyrant who maintained control by impaling just about anyone who crossed his path. The notion that he was a vampire, or that the name Dracula would be associated with vampirism, was a completely unknown concept to Romanians until Communism ended there in 1989. The novel Dracula wasn’t even translated into Romanian until a few years ago. While stories of vampires are very common to Romanians, Dracula is simply something that is used to sell trinkets to tourists.

You describe both the Borgo Pass in Romania (shown at left) and the town of Whitby, England as idyllic places, although neither sounds that easy to reach. Should non-vampire enthusiasts make the trek for the scenery and landscape? Or are these strictly must-see spots for gothic travelers?

Hmmm. Whitby, definitely. Borgo Pass, maybe. While their descriptions in Dracula would lead you to think that they were both dark, foreboding places, in reality they are both quite the opposite. Whitby has a substantial tourist industry on its own, its (relatively) easy to go there, and there’s a lot to do. The Borgo Pass, however, is pretty remote. Outside of a Dracula-themed trip, there isn’t a whole lot to draw you there. Therefore, I’d hesitate to call it “must see.”

Some travelers draw inspiration from Walt Whitman’s “Song of the Open Road” in Leaves of Grass. Should we be creeped out that Bram Stoker drew similar inspiration from Whitman for his classic Dracula tale?

Many are shocked to learn of the Stoker/Whitman connection. Stoker was acquainted with many famous literary figures of his day: Oscar Wilde (who was Stoker’s rival suitor for his wife’s hand), Mark Twain, Arthur Conan Doyle, Alfred Lord Tennyson, and the widow of Charles Dickens. It wasn’t because Stoker was considered a great writer, but Stoker’s boss–the famous actor Henry Irving–was quite popular and attracted these people as friends.

Whitman was special, though. Stoker was obsessed
with Whitman going back to his days at Trinity College. Through his Irving connections, Stoker met with Whitman twice. You see lots of Whitman-esque ideas throughout Dracula, especially when a group of men band together in order to battle against their common enemy. Even weirder, if you look at Stoker’s description of Count Dracula, he looks like a hybrid of Henry Irving and Walt Whitman. Stoker imagined Count Dracula as the perfect man. When he was looking for models in his own life for that perfection, he thought of those two guys.

(Note: There’s plenty more about Whitman, Irving, Stoker and Count Dracula in Nuzum’s book.)


In the book, you refer to an American boy in vampire getup who “…could have performed his routine in front of people in Rome, Stockholm, Kinshasa, Moscow or Tokyo.” What are your thoughts on the universality of the vampire persona?

Just that. You can show a picture of a character wearing fangs, slicked back hair, and a large cape to just about anyone, anywhere, and they’ll know it is a vampire. Very few fictional characters have achieved that kind of cultural ubiquity.

Your vampire travels end with a visit to The Darkwing Manor in Oregon (shown below). Would you recommend it as a destination for die-hard Halloween lovers? And did you visit any other spectacular home haunts or freakish places during your travels?


Darkwing Manor is amazing. It is a couple I met on my tour of Romania who turn their home and property into a vampire-themed haunted house. It is bigger and better than most commercial haunted houses! Plus, you get a chance to explore the Rogue Valley area of Oregon, which is reason itself to travel to the area. Outside of when I am writing books, I general try to avoid freakish places. I don’t want to become a victim of whatever makes them freakish.

How many of the 216 vampire movies that you watched were viewed while traveling to and from your research-related trips?

Traveling to so many spots for research (Romania, Oregon, Los Angeles, New York, London), I spent a lot of time on planes. Therefore, I’d try to watch vampires movies for “research” during the flights. It didn’t work out so well. The problem was that after the first dozen or two movies they become very repetitive and boring. As a result, I ended up falling asleep on plane rides.

Beyond Europe and America, where else would you have gone in your search for truth about vampires?

You can find vampires anywhere–from darkened parks to foreign countries to chain restaurants to someone crossing their fingers to keep someone away. All you have to do is look.

All photos courtesy of Eric Nuzum. Check out additional vampire photos from Eric’s travels, read an excerpt from the book and learn more at The Dead Travel Fast. Eric will be appearing at Politics and Prose in DC this evening.

Five endangered places you should see now, before they’re gone

by Martha Edwards on

If you knew a place was going to disappear soon, even if it wasn’t one of your top must-see destinations, would you visit it just in case you regretted never seeing it later on? Our brand-new sister blog, the Green Daily, recently published this post on vacation destinations that are on the brink of being extinct. A word to the wise: see them now or you might never get a chance. Here’s what made the list:

  1. Traditional China: Sadly, many Chinese landmarks and artifacts have fallen victim to the Yangtze River Valley damming project, which has flooded many traditional places along the historic body of water. And more of China is disappearing each day, particularly in the Yunnan province.
  2. The San Rafael Glacier, Chile: Glaciers are one tragic victim of this thing we call global warming, and they’re literally turning to water before our eyes. See this one before it disappears.
  3. Quirky Caribbean: When you go to the Caribbean these days, chances are you’ll see very little of the actual culture of this amazing destination — but you’ll see a lot of your all-inclusive resort! Travel outside the box and experience the culture in all it’s glory. Sure, the booze doesn’t flow like water in the real Caribbean, but you’ll have a much more rewarding experience. And you’ll be helping preserve this vibrant, dynamic culture.
  4. Red Sand Dunes, Namibia: Tourism and recreation are quickly eroding this naturally beautiful spot. For a one-of-a-kind experience, see these dunes before they’re gone for good.
  5. Village Culture in Romania: Romania’s mountain villages for up in the alps are a place where tourists can be transported back in time — people even still use carts and horses for transportation! But joining the European Union is sure to have a deep impact on these quaint communities.

Which European Country has the Worst Drunks According to YouTube Videos

by Neil Woodburn on

Europe has a long tradition of drinking. While this may not be such a bad cultural norm, there are a few bad apples who embrace their love of alcohol just a little too enthusiastically.

If you’ve been to Europe, you know what I’m talking about. Sure, my home country of America has its share of drunks, but for whatever reason I always see far more stumbling, incoherent, word-slurring reprobates on the streets of Europe than I ever do back home.

So which country is the worst? Which European country is plagued with too many drunks encountering difficulty riding bikes, crossing the street, holding a tune, or otherwise trying to go about their daily lives while debilitatingly inebriated?

Well, now thanks to YouTube, you can be the judge. Just click the play button on any of the below videos and then vote for Europe’s most intoxicated country at the end of the post.

Cheers!

Poland

Poland #2

Russia

Germany

Switzerland

Czech Republic #1

Czech Republic #2

Slovakia

Croatia

France

England

Ireland

Scotland

Ukraine #1

Ukraine #2

Romania

%Poll-3050%

My Bloody Romania: Sibiu, slippery when wet

by Leif Pettersen on

Dateline: Sibiu, Romania

Sun, warmth and temperature perfection; that pretty much sums up the first 48 hours of my Vladling road trip in Transylvania. At exactly 48 hours, one minute and 15 seconds, Romania suffered a freak, only-when-it’s-me, inclement weather zap. The temperature dropped 20 degrees Fahrenheit, fog rolled in and it rained like hell. Parts of eastern Romania were under water in a matter of hours. Nothing dreadful like that happened in Sibiu, but it was still a cruel turn of events after all that driving.

Our driving day between Târgu Mure?? and Sibiu could have gone smoother. Romania’s lethargic commitment to signage, accurate or otherwise, turned a two hour drive into four, including a maddening, looping tour of Sibiu’s commercial district while trying to outwit signs and deviously placed one way streets that circled the historic center, but never actually led to where they promised.

%Gallery-7186%

The Little Vampire and I frittered away the vast majority of the 30 minutes of sunshine that Sibiu enjoyed on our only full day in town lingering over coffee and following around a German couple carry my LP guide to Romania and Moldova – the first sighting of the book in a non-controlled setting. After that brief encounter with comfort and dryness, we exclusively saw the city from the insides of cafes and restaurants, darting and shivering from patio umbrellas to covered building entrances and generally wishing our little hearts out for it to stop pouring just long enough for us to run back to the car (it never did).

Nevertheless, Sibiu was nice to look at – all polished and redecorated for their spotlight year as a European Capital of Culture. Had we the proper cold and moisture resistant clothing, the city certainly looked primed for a good stroll. A police presence stronger than I’ve ever seen in Romania was out, manning virtually every street corner and wandering the plazas in twos, waiting for someone to make their collective days. And when no one did, they actually made themselves useful, directing traffic and even helping drivers find parking spots. Seeing as how my history with Romanian police mainly consists of them staring a hole into me as I drive through town, scanning my driving/car for any excuse to pull me over and shake me down for a bribe, seeing all this goodwill was a little creepy quite frankly.

When it’s not hypothermia weather, Sibiu deserves two full days to take in its worthwhile sites and architecture, including the abundance of the city’s atmospheric ‘eyelid’ windows. The trifecta of plazas – Piaţa Mare (Large Plaza), Piaţa Mica (Small Plaza) and Piaţa Huet (The What Now? Plaza) – are newly cobblestoned and enriched with artistic flairs like modern art and creative landscaping. The southeast remnants of the lovely 16th century city wall are a time travel trip, if you can ignore the Dacias and Peugeots parked alongside it. A number of sights, including the Brukenthal Museum, “the oldest and (likely) finest art gallery in Romania”, the City History Museum and the Franz Binder Museum of World Ethnology are all excellent. We gave it a miss due to the weather and since I’ve already seen several just like it, but the Museum of Traditional Folk Civilization, 5km south of town, has a staggering 120 traditional dwellings, mills and churches painstakingly trucked in from around the country. And though I was barred entrance by God’s Securitate, it’s probably safe to assume that the tourism office is first-rate.

Oh right, possibly the main reason everyone was on their best behavior was that Sibiu had been overrun by a Caucus of Organized, Devout Non-Atheists. The Non-Atheists verily locked out the remainder of Sibiu’s tourists for the week, commandeering the tourism bureau, filling every bed in town (we were forced to book beds in a village 15 kilometers away), monopolizing all worthwhile sights and even somewhat rudely turning us Non-Non-Atheists out of the warm and dry Evangelical Church, without so much as a glimpse of the ornamentation or the 1772 organ with 6002 pipes, into the freezing pouring rain, while they slaughtered goats or whatever it was they were doing that required total privacy and air-tight security.

Lastly, a small health problem was finally addressed in Sibiu. After dining in Restaurant Leo in Târgu Mureş (LP-listed, by the way) two days previous, I’d started on an involuntary strict regimen of racing to the toilet every 90 minutes to do unspeakable things that rhyme with “doop my ducking drains out”. When it became clear that this was the kind of food poisoning that doesn’t just eventually work itself through the system, I made a stop at a pharmacy to buy an antidote (‘Furazolidon’ for those of you who find yourself in a similar situation on your next trip to Romania). And, for the record, when the pharmacist asks you how many you want, she literally means how many pills. If you say “five”, she busts open a package, whips out a scissors and cuts up the tabs. Try that at Wallgreens! I was instructed to take two pills right away, which turned my pee a delightful color of reddish-orange. ‘Delightful’, that is, if it were being served in a heaping glass of ice next to a pool on Mallorca. Rather alarming when it comes out of your doodle. Ultimately, the pills did the trick and I was never forced to take an emergency poop by the side of the road, which I’ve never had to do in 37 years and hope to avoid for another 37.

Leif Pettersen, originally from Minneapolis, Minnesota, co-authored the current edition of Lonely Planet’s Romania and Moldova. Visit his personal blog, Killing Batteries, for expanded coverage on his gastrointestinal peculiarities and further groanings on why, oh why, is it so f*cking difficult for Romanians to put up a sign? Just one bloody sign, for Christ’s sake? I’m not asking for the world here, just an effing sign pointing to the center of town! I mean do these asshats want tourists to visit their damn town or what? Mother of God…

My Bloody Romania: ‘Vladling’ in Transylvania

by Leif Pettersen on

Dateline: Târgu Mure??, Romania

The first incarnation of my online blogging presence was called Every Notable Patch of Grass in Romania. The title was apt, as I had already lived and traveled in Romania for nearly a year and was about to embark on my Lonely Planet research trip to canvas the more obscure tourist sites in the country normally frequented by truckers, drunken businessmen and truant teenagers. I had to change my blog’s title to Killing Batteries when I moved out of Romania last year (it was either that or “The No Effing Way I’m Spending Another Winter Here Chronicles”). Despite my former blog’s authoritative title, I didn’t exactly see every notable patch of grass due to inclement weather, the time-space continuum and acute Vengeful God-itis, a terrible affliction that I contracted in my late teens after I was tricked into juggling at a pro-life rally for Christian teenaged girls (the dick jokes did not go over well) and have suffered from almost continuously ever since.

Since I very nearly hold the dubious honor of Best Traveled Romania Tourist Ever, I decided to pad my numbers a bit and knock off a few more destinations this week, most notably Sibiu, a 2007 European Capital of Culture.

%Gallery-7187%

Let’s just get this out of the way: I hate driving. It’s not that I’m a bad driver – indeed I can parallel park a car at an Olympic level – it’s just never been fun for me. This may have something to do with the fact that I’ve never driven anything fancier than a Honda Civic hatchback, but that’s the situation nonetheless. Furthermore, I’m filled with manifest dread at the mere thought of driving in Romania. As a whole, these drivers are bat$hit crazy. It’s a nationwide phenomenon and common knowledge among the natives (stories appear on the BBC once a month or so about some idiotic, totally avoidable multi-fatality accident like this one), but they don’t care.

I’ve already written at great length about the reality of driving in Romania and although that rant is still largely true, I have to grudgingly admit that the situation has noticeably improved. Rumors of cops cracking down on jackass driving started a year ago and I figured it was just talk to appease EU officials agonizing over last minute membership details that would fall on deaf ears anyway. But sure enough, the number of people driving like they’re 30 seconds from giving birth has dropped and conspicuous drunk driving along with it. Though $hitfaced staggering around town still seems to be all the rage, as we saw in a village less than 30 minutes after departing on our trip. Some guy decided to step out, stinking drunk on a Monday morning, shirtless and in the rain, weaving down the middle of a busy national road. Sadly, I was too slow with the camera to capture this classic Romania countryside moment.

Despite improved conditions, over the course of the seven day road-trip I was involved in three near-fender benders, saw one non-fatal van roll-over, observed a mere two people making prudent use of their rearview mirrors (both tourists from Germany) and only feared for my life once when I honked at a lunatic who nearly caused a five car pile-up, who screamed incoherently at me and tried to spit on my car as he drove off. These people honk at each other 25 times before breakfast, but honk at someone to express displeasure about their dangerously incompetent driving and you better be ready to trade blows, brother.

I was joined on this road adventure by my Co-Pilot, Photographer and Translator When It Gets Too Hard For Me Or I’m Feeling Lazy: ‘The Little Vampire’ (not her real name – she won’t tell me what it is because “you’re a pervert.”).

Since the distance from Iaşi to Sibiu is prohibitively long, even for people who love hours behind the wheel dodging livestock, horse carts, suicidal drivers and escaped winos, I chose to break up the drive and stop for a night in Târgu Mureş. Spine-tingling it ain’t, but Târgu Mureş is nevertheless a perfectly nice place to hang out for a day. Their elongated, agreeably manicured Piaţa Trandafirilor (‘Rose Plaza’, which is indeed rosey) starts slow with a ho-hum concrete cathedral (1934) at one end, then builds with a series of Habsburg-esque buildings lining both sides of the piaţa and ends strong with the side-by-side color-coded Palace of Culture and County Council Building.

The city has an even mix of ethnic Hungarians and Romanians which has historically been a sore spot. Ceauşescu, a legendary loather of Hungarians, actually closed the city to Hungarians while he was in power. Even as late as 1990, the post-Communist government, little improved on Ceauşescu’s halfwit approach to domestic policy, brought in ethnic Romanian peasants from the countryside armed with their farming tools to (successfully) engineer a bloody race riot, which was then officially blamed on local Roma (gypsies). Among other things, local Hungarian poet was attacked by a mob that tried to gouge out his eyes. Good times.

Apart from the city’s modest museums and aesthetic beauty, Târgu Mureş started blipping on backpacker radars (and the current LP) in 2006 when it became the first city in Romania serviced by a budget airline: Wizz Air. In the ensuing year, budget airlines have exploded here (I’ve posted a complete breakdown here), with flights zapping in from all over Europe on Blue Air, MyAir (Motto: “Schedule? What schedule?”), and German Wings, with flights starting soon on EasyJet (beginning October 29th) and Ryan Air (date yet to be released).

As a footnote, Romania recently threatened to ban Wizz Air from its airspace for chronic tardiness, ineptitude and horrid customer service. Hmmm, those traits sound familiar. Oh, and I see Delta Airlines flies into Bucharest! How embarrassing would it be for Delta to be banned by Romania? Ooo. I think I just had a tiny orgasm.

%Gallery-7188%

To break up the drive even further (and because we didn’t really have a choice), we made a quick stop at Bicaz Gorge, a short, but dramatically plunging crevasse that climaxes at the “Neck of Hell” where the accident-waiting-to-happen gorge wall hangs over a busy road. Though I’ve spared you the photos, the road both before and after the bottom of the ravine has 20-some souvenir stands selling identical crap for identical prices. Who says small business competition is dead?

Leif Pettersen, originally from Minneapolis, Minnesota, co-authored the current edition of Lonely Planet’s Romania and Moldova. Visit his personal blog, Killing Batteries, for further ponderings on why God hates him and where one can pick up a Dracula ashtray for cheap.