Back on the road in Bucharest

The quote I like best about travel comes from Neil Peart’s Ghostrider (I love this book, please go and read it!):

So many people feel trapped in the workaday predictability of their lives, and their frustrations and dissatisfactions can be simultaneously stimulated and soothed by a non-specific fantasy of “getting away”. But like all fantasies, this dream vision remained free of consequences, and that alone was the deep, cold distinction between fantasy and reality; No consequences.

Travel is great for a good many things, but it’s not the same as going on a holiday. It can often be a struggle, being far away from friends and family and most of the time not knowing the language or how things work. You can sit down with a map and blithely plan things all day long, but that ain’t the same as living it, brother. It can be a great satisfaction when you overcome obstacles or figure something out, but at the time it can be difficult and that’s generally how I found Bucharest.

I was, I think, a little naive in heading from the relatively known world of Dublin to the completely different world of Bucharest and I had a few difficult days adjusting to things, and also dealing with feeling quite introverted and introspective most of the time. I wrote more self-reflective stuff in my journal than is ideal. More than likely it’s just a post-Christmas funk that’ll soon pass.

I really struggled to find a supermarket. I don’t think Bucharestian shopkeepers are very good at advertising their wares (that or I’m just an idiot), because I swear I passed a million shops bearing the name “MEGA IMAGE” before I realised that they were the supermarkets. Not a great name I feel; I thought they were some sort of photography processing place.

I stayed in a hostel near Piata Unirii, which was nice and the people in the hostel were friendly, but the area itself is just so different to everywhere I’ve been so far. It feels very strange, and at times when it’s foggy it could be a post-apocalyptic world. This is the area where the Communist dictator and all-round mentalist Nicolae Ceaușescu tore down the old town to make way for a more modern civic centre.

It could look quite grand and imposing if it weren’t so run down, but I think it would need a lot of work and I can’t see that happening any time soon. The amount of effort needed to construct it in the first place is astounding — churches were actually put intact on train lines and moved to make way for the new. It was either that or destroy them, and all so Bucharest could have a new centre.

Honestly though, it all seems like such a misguided notion and nowhere is this more evident that the Palace of the Parliament (Palatul Parlamentului in Romanian).

This is the second largest building in the world (behind only the Pentagon, and I’m not sure those guys would be cool with me taking pictures) and according to my tour guide costs something like 6 million US dollars a year in running costs (ie, heating and lighting). Apparently only about 60% of the building is used (and I’m sure even that is with everyone spreading themselves out a lot). It’s truly a massive building, and it’s definitely worth crossing the scary roads to get there to see it.

What is it with dictators and the need to build ridiculously oversized structures? It’s an impressive structure, certainly, but not at the cost of starving your own people to construct it, surely?

And the Romanian people are so lovely. I’ve had the best tour guides here (even if there was an awkward incident in which one girl clearly thought I was trying to pick her up, which I wasn’t, and she definitely didn’t dig me), and friendly and funny encounters with all sorts of people. Plus Romanian people tend to have a great accent to listen to which is always a bonus.

All this made it all the more sobering to listen to our young tour guide describe the problems with corruption. There have been a lot of protests in Romania since the fall of Communism, most recently in 2017 over pardonings related to corruption-related crimes. It must be very frustrating to live with.

For all its fairly soulless communist buildings and corruption there are some nice spots in Bucharest. I was particularly taken with the Arch of Triumph (3 times smaller than the one in Paris) and Herastrau Park was beautiful. It’s huge and has a lake in the middle and it’s a really nice place to potter around.

The churches that they moved are nice, too. They’re very different in terms of feel to the ones we have in the UK, with far more ornate decorations. It’s also quite nice to walk around when the services are on; some of the hymns sound very well done.

One of the walking tours, “Little Paris or new Berlin?” is also well worth doing as you’re shown buildings that are similar in style to those in Paris or Berlin and are quite easy to miss otherwise.

I also did the Communist walking tour (a walking tour where they explained Communist buildings and stuff; not a walking tour for Communists) which was great, if a little saddening. We went to parts of Bucharest where the old town was and it was a weird feeling to be standing in rubble of old houses and traces of old roads where people once lived, and had been given in some cases 24 hours notice to pack up their lives and leave.

It was all so difficult to imagine, and really saddening. This wasn’t just limited to Bucharest either, it was in other cities and villages too. According to our guide lots of this stuff was inspired after a visit to North Korea, which I think says all that needs to be said on that.

In some ways I guess it’s good the world has learnt from the perils of dictatorship and is by and large more sensible. Taking the example of Trump — imagine if he could do as he wanted. At least the office of most powerful world leader has a system built around it to prevent (too much) craziness. I can’t see the First Lady being expected to approve or reject scientific research, for example.

One of the minor troubles I’m having is, at the risk of sounding massively inappropriate, trouser trouble. I own literally 2 pairs of jeans, and my favourites (with genuine worn through at the knee; no fakes here!) have ripped a bit more and so now one could, if one is so inclined, see my underwear. I need to figure out how European sizes work so I can buy some more before I offend anyone with delicate sensibilities.

Anyway, that’s more than enough from me and my trousers. I’m due to catch a bus to leave tomorrow, from a bus station that has a Google review of:

Dis a shonky-ass bus station boyz

I was a little concerned about me and my shonky-ass, but as I’m a British Gentleman Traveler this sort of nonsense simply will not stand. I also remember that I’m a brave bear (difficult to remember sometimes), so I’m sure I’ll be fine and I’ll see you next time boyz and girlz! Written on January 6th, 2018 by David Seddon