The Curse of Count Dracula
The prospect of a tourist bonanza from a Dracula theme park in
Transylvania excites some Romanians, but opponents see only
red
A couple of earnest environmentalists warned author Rudy Chelminski
that venerable oak trees on the plain where he was walking would
soon be felled. A large billboard explained why. "Aici se va
construi DRACULA PARK," announced the text: Dracula Park was to be
built here.
Over the past year and a half, a furious controversy has swarmed
around this proposal. It was Romania's minister of tourism who came
up with the idea of a Dracula theme park. Few of his countrymen
would argue with the minister's economic rationale, but proposing
the city of Sighisoara as the site was another matter. Known as the
"Pearl of Transylvania," Sighisoara was founded near the end of the
13th century; the old-town citadel remains perfectly preserved. It
sits on a hill behind a 30-foot wall punctuated by nine defensive
towers.
In the autumn of 2001, the tourism minister displayed elaborate
plans for Dracula Park in a glossy brochure. It depicts a medieval
castle complete with torture chamber, alchemy laboratory, vampire
den and an initiation hall where "young vampires can be dubbed
knights." The International Institute of Vampirology was to be
located near Dracula Lake, a wide pond with a restaurant in the
middle, and the Old Tower would house a workshop for
teeth-sharpening. Restaurant fare was to include blood pudding,
brains, and "fright-jellied" meat, a scraps and gelatin
concoction.
Last summer England's Prince Charles, an architecture buff and
preservationist, added his own voice to the rising chorus of
dissent when he declared that "the proposed Dracula Park is wholly
out of sympathy with the area and will ultimately destroy its
character." Then, in February, the minister announced that the town
of Snagov, just north of the Bucharest airport, would be the park
site. Groundbreaking is planned for May.
The developers had lost; Transylvania had won. As for Dracula
himself, it wouldn't have surprised anyone if the mocking sound of
his demonic laughter could be heard echoing through the alleyways
of the medieval citadel that has escaped his curse.
