When I finished the last email I had just been out of the Hello Hotel in Bucharest looking for food and water. In the clear sunny morning the next day I discovered that my previous night’s left turn out of the front door was wrong. It lead to raucous drunks and who knows what else, when turning right would have lead to several pleasant cafes and, if not paradisical conditions, certainly acceptable.
I was a bit late getting into gear that day and had to take a taxi to the start of the “free” walking tour and I suspect I was robbed of about $4 by the driver. I like these tours because the guides have to make your experience enjoyable or they won’t get paid, as it is “pay what you want to” at the end. This guide was a young law student who knew she shouldn’t be studying law but didn’t want to not finish. She was funny, delightfully cynical, and unable to understand why her grandmother always voted for the political dinosaurs. Her main message was that things in Romania might look and sound a bit unfortunate, but they are a lot better than it was a few years ago. We started in front of Ceausescu’s huge ornate and useless building that the parliament is based in. Even self-important politicians can’t use half of it. Our guide said C. returned from visits to China and North Korea fascinated by the massive flag waving and placard turning displays he had seen, and wanted a balcony grandiose enough to conduct his own from. Unfortunately for him and his missus they were shot before it was finished. If you wish to watch this execution it can be seen on facetube. The building is so heavy it is gradually sinking. It cost a huge amount of money the country didn’t have, and the cost of maintenance will be rather large. A person with a financial background would say they should blow the thing up now and make it disappear.
Bucharest is not really a must see apart from the above. They have lots of old French style buildings, interspersed with ones gradually falling apart, and a series of big boulevards with parallel parks and walkways. In common with the rest of the country the main sport is smoking, and second is using spray cans to scribble wherever possible. I had a go at seeing the mansion where C. had actually lived. It was a long and quite pleasant walk but when I arrived I was told I had to wait an hour because I could only go with a tour. I walked away to find a cafe, and the further I went the more I realised seeing a big house decorated in opulent bad taste wasn’t really what I wanted to do. Much better would be the Peasants Museum, and I detoured there, another nice walk, to find it closed.
Two days was enough. So I headed north to Sighisoara on a train trip of 6+ hours that got slower and slower. I had splashed out on First Class, so it was comfy and the scenery was interesting and the time didn’t matter. On arrival I got out the Google map that I had printed off long ago, and followed the directions. Where I was staying was in the old citadel part which was built around a hill. The final map instruction said “Take the steps” and I did, with my bag. The steps went much further than seen from the bottom and got steeper. When I got to the top I stopped to look at the view, for a little while, and noticed I was right beside my antique hotel which had dinky little tables outside and uniformed waiters wondering if I needed a drink. And asking why hadn’t I availed myself of the complimentary pickup they offered.
This small town is in Transylvania and has lots of medieval stuff well preserved, and not surprisingly is a tourist destination. The big star is Vlad 111, Prince of Wallachia, aka Vlad the Impaler, aka Dracular in a book supposedly based on him. He was born in Sighisoara so you could fill several cars with all the associated tourist junk that is available. I read that a good impaling doesn’t pierce any vital organs, which got me thinking about what a complicated way of killing it was. First you need a suitable tree trunk that can hold a man’s weight but not be so rough and thick to cause immediate death. Then I guess it would need the bark taken off and the top sharpened. I am not sure how deep the impalement is, but it would be a top heavy load to place in the ground for the edification of others. Vlad probably had a specialist unit in his army because he did lots of them. I saw all the sights and finished half a day early. I should have done a walk to the forest of ancient oaks but reviews suggested it was easy to get lost on the way, and when you got there it was not hugely inspiring. So I had a beer with lunch followed by the inevitable little lie down. That made the afternoon go away and confirmed a diminishing personal tourism drive.
Luckily there was only one more place to go and I got back on the train for Brasov. The old part is large and lovely with more places to eat outside than I have ever seen. I arrived on Saturday evening and it was packed. The main square was winding up an international youth festival of some sort, and overnight all the stuff for that went away, to be replaced by more stuff for a marathon on Sunday. I decided I would do a bit of research into Romanian wines on my last evening and did a small tour of the three places that said they were wine bars. One did pizzas so I figured they weren’t serious, but the other two helped me decide the wine is not up to Moldovan standards. Which allowed me to retire in good shape and watch the US Open with my tourism drive completely gone.
All that is left is a horribly long series of flights home. Presently I am wasting time at the Bucharest airport which I got to by Uber. “So what?” you may say, but it was my very first Uber and half the price of a taxi, assuming I had an honest one. And you all know what assumptions do to us.
I am looking forward to a glass of Pegasus Riesling. There is no doubt we make the best white wines in the world.
Just not as sure about our rugby team.
Dennis
p.s. A couple of hours later For the first time in 45 years I was actually keen to get home after this trip. So what happens ? I get to Istanbul after the first part of the homeward flights, all geared up for the next 10 hours to Bangkok, to find my flight has been delayed 5 hours. This means I miss the connecting flight to NZ and have to spend a day hanging around Bangkok. Turkish Airlines tell me they pay and all I have to do is find their desk at Bangkok airport and all will be sorted. That’s bound to be easy.