The city of Alba Iulia sits in the heartland of Transylvania, about an hour's drive from the nearest airport at Cluj Napoca, which in turn is an hour's flight from the Romanian capital, Bucharest. It's a hugely pretty city, surrounded by lowland hills; quiet without feeling sleepy, relaxed without feeling dull. The air is country-sweet, the traffic is polite and co-operative. You stretch a little as soon as you arrive.

 
In the centre of the city there is a walled citadel, a former fortress with seven bastions in a stellar shape. The citadel's history is tumultuous – a section of one wall dates back 2,000 years to the Roman Empire; the Roman Catholic Cathedral was built in the 13th century; there is a university now, and a library of priceless mediaeval documents. On 1 December 1918, the treaty that unified Transylvania with the Kingdom of Romania was signed. Kings have been crowned here. Conquering heroes have ridden in, returning from war. Clearly there's more to Alba Iulia than first meets the eye.
 
In 2009, what's clearest is the very deep and abiding pride that the local residents have in their city which is why, on Friday, 29 May, nearly 10,000 citizens of Alba Iulia and its surrounding townships gathered in a circle stretching over 3.4 km (2.1 miles) and literally embraced their city. It was the largest group hug ever recorded by Guinness World Records™, and I had the honour of attending.
 
The execution was flawless: weeks of advance television promoting the event; a white line painted on the ground around the outside of the walled area; hundreds of volunteer marshalls shepherding the arriving people into sections around the outside of the walls, and feeding their numbers back to a centralized counting station. Even the President of Romania, Traian Băsescu, took part among a mass of media and fans.  

 
At the given signal, fireworks were sent into the air, the bells of the cathedral were rung, and I was on my bicycle (with a police escort on a motorbike in front, lights and siren going) to ride a lap around the citadel, ensuring that everyone was in formation and the hug was complete. So many people – young kids, high-school students, elderly folk, a group of policemen – in a circle nearly 3.5 km long all standing proud in support of their home.
 
Friends laughed when I told them I was going. The largest group hug sounded somehow twee, or vaguely childish. But that's the beauty of Guinness World Records: what you think you're going to experience invariably turns into something very different. This was a symbol of something very special – home, pride, national identity, call it what you will – and it was as moving and as wonderful an event as I've ever been part of.   

Guinness World Records Adjudicator Paul Kenny attended and verified this record.

8 June 2009