We are two ordinary people who love to travel. Unlike many, we are not passionate about wild outdoors and natural landscapes. We are passionate to obsession about walking through new towns, big or small, gulping down every urban detail. We’ve been fortunate enough to have gathered a collection of wonderful vacations and almost every time, either by reviews or by chance, we picked good places to stay. At one point, we realized that the places we booked stayed with us to the same extent sights, people and feelings did. And each time we were delighted with a place, enjoyed it, and rated it accordingly, there was this question floating in our heads: the town we live in, could it gift the same experience to the same type of tourists? The answer was and is no. The town we live in is small and poor. We love it because we moved here five years ago and still see it with a fresh eye. Yet, fresh doesn’t exclude honest. Turda is very much like a stray dog: dirty and kind, humble and hiding precious sights, gestures, and feelings underneath a thick crust of misery and destruction.

The lady of the house has grown a keen interest in clothes hangers. Hence the name of our place and the discreet displays of century-old hangers from all over the planet. And, because today will soon be history, too, we'd be glad if you took home with you a Hangers... hanger, as the smallest gift from us.