Jenny had been exchanging emails with a Romanian student in Bucharest for a few months and we decided a trip over there for a few days was justified. He had come across some Devonian fossils which initially looked rather tetrapod-like, which made us all very excited. However, by the time we actually went, we'd realised that these were not tetrapods at all, just early Devonian fish, but by then the trip had been arranged.
We were through the airport really quickly and met Cristi, the student, in Arrivals. He introduced us to his father, Romeo, who drove us back to their apartments on the south side of the city. It was grey and rather chilly, which was how it stayed for much of the time we were there.
Most of Bucharest is really rather run-down and dilapidated, and it wasn't too much of a surprise when we turned off the main street into a maze of pot-holed streets running between tower blocks. The effect is rather ameliorated by large numbers of trees growing between the blocks, but the number of dead cars gives you a good clue as to how hard things have been over the past few years.
Cristi and his brother, Florin, live in a top-floor apartment, into which they installed us. This is immediately above their parent's apartment. The parents are evidently relatively secure financially, since they own both apartments. Despite the fact that the old man had been in electronics when working, it was noticeable that electrical sockets were hanging off the walls and so on, where you'd have expected him to take a pride in everything like that being properly sorted out. We suspect that in the Soviet era nobody did anything that they weren't actually told to do, so the culture of just getting on and fixing stuff hasn't really appeared yet.
This is the view out of their kitchen window, and you can see what I mean about the rather despondent feel to the whole place, as well as the more uplifting trees between the blocks of apartments. Something we hadn't expected, and which isn't obvious from the snaps, is that the whole area was really quiet. There was no sound of traffic in the evenings, and in fact, very little sound at all. Just sparrows chirping and the inevitable doves.
For dinner, the lads' mother, Alexandra, had laid on something of a feast. We started with cold meats and salami, two different dishes of minced fish with mayonnaise, one with olives, the other without, a bowl of an aubergine paste, various fresh, salad vegetables like tomatoes, spring onions, radishes, etc., some really delicious roasted peppers, and so on, all accompanied by bread rolls.
I remembered going to Brittany when I was about 15 and being taken to a couple of peasant farms where I was told it was insulting to refuse anything I was offered. Fearful that some similar convention might hold here, and also unsure what was to follow, I dived in, as a result of which I was rather full for later courses!
And the first alcohol that appeared was a kind of locally-brewed schnapps, I think. Poured from an obviously non-original bottle, it looked distinctly dodgy, though I'm sure it was fine. We didn't have much!
The second course was a minced pork mixture wrapped in cabbage leaves, accompanied by polenta, then there were some fried chicken drumsticks and livers with a bowl of creamed potato, followed finally by a magnificent pudding full of cream and chopped fresh fruit. I was bloated by the end, but it was worth it as the food was really excellent.
After the initial shot of schnapps, we were offered local wine. The red, which was all we drank on that occasion, was rather sweet for our taste, but we also had red which we liked better, and some rather nice white.
After dinner, being rather tired, we made our excuses and went upstairs, intending to have a little more red and then an early night, but in fact the lads were good company and the wine kept flowing until quite late.
In the morning we caught a kind of minibus to the university. I'd say it was a 20-seater, at a guess, but was full, with about 10 standing, so as we climbed aboard, we were crushed in at the front with the driver. At the next stop, to our amazement, another couple of folks pushed on and we crushed the people behind us further back. I had my eyes closed, since, being susceptible to travel sickness, I knew I was in trouble, as my head was well above the tops of the windows. All I could see through the windows was the road passing by, no horizon, nothing vaguely stationary, just moving stuff guaranteed to make me feel sick quick. And a loony driver in a loony system. Fabulous! With eyes closed, I survived, and we escaped the bus by the university. Within 50m my travel sickness had gone and I was feeling fine again.
At the Uni we climbed a staircase to the Geology department. In the centre of the stairwell was an ancient lift, of a sort I've not seen for 30 years or more, with the diamond lattice gate that collapses sideways with that delicious slick-click as you open it. The corridor to Cristi's office was littered with boxes of specimens, few showing any labels, all covered with a layer of dust. The office was similarly chaotic, with stuff piled everywhere and apparently just shoved out of the way to make space for a microscope or whatever was being used. Cristi introduced Micha who is a 19 year old fellow student and pretty sharp.
This is Jenny, Cristi and Micha deep in conversation. I let them get on with the science, just looking at a few fossils, then gazing out of the window. After a while I took a couple of snaps and sketched the scene before me, not so much to create a work of art as to practise looking and sketching. My observation could do with improving, so I try to do this when I can. The next picture is taken from the window I was looking out of, onto the square. The traffic is manic!
As you can see, it was a pretty grey day. This pic also shows a green trolley bus, something else I've not seen for ages, though I gather they're making a comeback in the UK. After a while we decided it was lunchtime, though that just meant coffee, after which we'd go to the Geological Museum to look at the fossil fishes they've got there. Cristi knew of only one coffee bar, so that's where we went. There seems to be no culture of coffee or eating out at all, so for instance, when we proposed to take our four hosts out for a meal, the way you might in the UK, they knew of nowhere we could go.
The coffee was fine and we walked to the Geological Museum, where we were introduced to someone in charge. He decided that what we wanted was a guided tour of the museum, or maybe just his bit of it, so we went along with that. Some was actually quite interesting and most seemed to be reasonably up to date. That sounds rather patronising, but it's not meant to be. Many museums let bits of display get out of date, particularly when they don't coincide with particular curator's interests. Jenny, Cristi and Micha spent a while examining the early Devonian fossil fishes, while I just wandered around looking.
Eventually we escaped. Micha went back to the department, while Jenny, Cristi and I headed home. We took the Metro this time, just so we could experience it. It was like metro's the whole world over, though cleaner and nicer than some. And definitely better than the morning's minibus!
That evening's meal was something of a rerun of the previous evening's one. The leftovers came out and were supplemented with calves' brains, I think breadcrumbed whole and fried, then sliced. Not my favourite, so I limited myself to a single slice. Another course was a very tasty thin soup with a handful of pork meatballs in it, and of course, the cream pudding came out too. At some point, I forget when, Alexandra also produced some delicious little sweetish cheese cakes on chou pastry, and some apple rolls, also with chou pastry. Simply delicious, and she promised us the recipes, though they've not arrived yet.
Conversation was less stilted this time as it turned out that Alexandra could speak some English, and Romeo could understand most that was being said, but could say little. It turned out that Alexandra had been in Manchester when she was younger, but for some reason we didn't pursue this, so missed an opportunity there. Shame, as she was really nice.
The next day was our last. It turned out that they'd had had the impression that we would be there until the Sunday, but we regretfully had to say no. However, Florin knows the old town quite well, so we said our farewells to Alexandra and then Romeo drove us into the centre and parked. He stayed by the car reading his paper, while the remaining four of us wandered around.
These nymph columns are typical of the standard of ornament you see on quite a few of the old buildings. It's always a pleasure to see a building someone has obviously lavished care on, and I despair of modern styles I see around me in the UK. The mediaeval palace, pictured right, has been excavated and restored so you can get an impression of what it's like, but is behind an iron grill fence, so you can't actually wander around it.
Around there we came to a shop full of the most beautiful furniture and lamps. Stunning glass and metal in art nouveau and art deco styles, which we would have loved to browse. Reluctantly we both independently decided buying anything would seem embarrassingly flamboyant. I've read somewhere since that the average Romanian income is less than a tenth what an average Brit earns.
Next stop was an old inn which has been fully restored. On the left you see the entrance. Sadly, I didn't take a picture of the inner courtyard, which must be 50m square, with a wooden first floor balcony all the way around and mature trees growing in the middle. As we walked on I spotted this derelict building pictured on the right. It's clearly very ornate, and will be wonderful when restored, but it's pretty depressing right now.
Then we came to what I term "Art Alley", with faboulous wrought iron gates and arty type shops along it's rather short length. We ambled slowly down it, peering into shop windows and doors, the way you do. Part-way down there was an entrance through which I could see a small courtyard surrounded by its own cloister, so I had to photograph that! Somehow the trailing electric cable says a lot.
Later we came to what I think of as an Arab Arcade. There seemed to be antique shops and there was certainly a coffee shop, but everywhere was closed, so all we could do was walk through. After emerging from the other end we came to a new bank with a bronze sculpture outside and glass walls which reflected the more traditional buildings around it.
Before getting back to the car we saw some traditional costumes displayed in a shop window, just about the only examples of traditional costume we saw at all in the whole visit. And on the right is a fine old building about which I know nothing at all. Cristi and Florin were unable to tell me anything about it, but I was impressed enough to take a photograph anyway. That wouldn't look out of place on the Isle de la Cité in Paris.
Then Romeo drove us around the modern town a bit and took us to a park for a coffee and a stroll. First we had to see Coucescou's Palace, which is the biggest building in Europe or some such. They all thought it was grotesque and ugly, but we thought it rather fine, despite it's history. The pic on the right is just to give you a flavour of the centre of Bucharest. There's a vast amount of advertising and clearly no worries about smoking, as many ads were for cigarettes.
Next time we stopped I spotted this old brick church, so wandered over to photograph it. No time to go inside, which I'd have loved to do. And nearby was an old building which had been damaged, possibly during the war, and onto which had been grafted an ultra-modern glass top. I think it looks rather incongruous, but you can make your own mind up!
After a stroll around the park we sat by the lake drinking coffee and nattering for a bit, then wandered back to the car. From the left are Florin, Romeo, Cristi and Jenny.
We drove generally in the direction of the airport with plenty of time in hand, but when Romeo tried to take us into another park for another stroll, we demurred and persuaded him to head for the check-ins. On the right is a statue to WWII pilots which I took from the car.
This beautiful bronze sculpture was in the entrance lobby to the airport. When I realised I'd got camera-shake I went back to retake the photo, but a security woman made it quite clear that photography was not allowed, so I had to make do with what I had.
So that was it; a couple of nights in an exotic location, looked after by some really charming people for whom nothing was too much trouble. It'll be really interesting to go back in a few years time when they've made more progress with the restoration, but even so, it was fascinating.
Last updated 20th June, 2012 by Rob Clack