You are in Szekler country here, in the hills between the Niraj valley and the foot of the Gurghiu and Harghita mountains, a part of Transylvania where most villages have two names and the Hungarian one, Nyárádremete for Eremitu, is the one people use. Dealul Tompa means the blunt hill, and it matches the landscape: rounded, grassy and farmed, with beech woods on the higher ground and a patchwork of hay meadows below.
Sovata, about twelve kilometres off, is the notable neighbour and a good reason to come. It is a spa town built around a series of salt lakes, among them Lake Ursu, the Bear Lake, whose upper layers heat in summer sunshine and hold the warmth below, an unusual natural effect that drew visitors from the nineteenth century onward. The Praid salt mine lies not far away, where salt has been cut for centuries and visitors can walk into the mine. The region's wealth was salt, wood and sheep, and you can still see the carved wooden gateways and tidy farm buildings that came from that prosperity.
Riding in this area is relaxed and varied. The roads follow valleys and cross low ridges, with bends that open and close without drama, and long views across hay meadows toward the mountains. Surfaces are mostly decent, though patched and sometimes broken where springs or frost have done damage. Cattle and sheep use the roads freely and church bells carry across the valley in the evening. The best months are late May and June, when the flowers are thick, and the warmth of early September; winter brings snow and ice to the higher roads, and the season is short.
For food, try the Szekler dishes served in family guesthouses: stuffed cabbage, thick soups, and a sweet chimney cake called kürtőskalács baked over embers, which you will smell before you see. Eremitu is a village with a shop or two, and fuel is more reliable at Sovata, where there are stations and several cafés. Take water and a light jacket, because the hills cool fast once the sun slips behind the ridge, and take a moment to listen. In the evening, the valley sounds like it did a hundred years ago.