Dej sits where two rivers meet, the Somes and the Somesul Mic, and it has been a salt town for as long as anyone remembers. The Romans knew salt here, and so did the medieval Hungarian kings, who taxed it. A few kilometres north-west of the town, on a hill called Dealul Muncelului near the village of Falcusa, the Roman frontier of Dacia Porolissensis left a trace. As far as I can tell from the label, it is one of the watchtowers or small installations of the limes, and it was included in the 2024 UNESCO listing. There is little to see but earth banks and a clearing. What interests me is the line of sight: from here the Romans could watch the road along the Somes valley, a corridor that ran from Napoca, today's Cluj, to the frontier fort at Porolissum.
The surrounding country is the Transylvanian Plain, but not the flat kind. It is a rolling landscape of low hills, clay ridges and shallow valleys, with fields of wheat, maize and sunflowers, plum orchards, and villages of long, low houses. Sheep and cattle graze the slopes, and old wells with wooden sweeps stand beside the road. In summer the hills turn golden, and in autumn there are bonfires of stubble and the smell of woodsmoke.
Dej is a town of about thirty-eight thousand with all you need: fuel, food, repairs. They are quiet but patched, with potholes in places, and cattle and carts have right of way as a matter of custom. Distances are modest and you can build a gentle day around the hills.
Look at the villages: the churches are often wooden or stone, with tall spires, and cemeteries have carved wooden crosses. Some villages near here have both Orthodox and Reformed churches within sight of each other, a record of the region's mixed history.
Late spring and early autumn are the best times. Midsummer can be hot, and winter can bring fog and ice. Try a plate of sarmale, cabbage rolls stuffed with pork and rice, with a spoonful of sour cream.