One Night in Bulgaria

26 April 2009

Last two days in Bucharest—read Paul Park's A Princess of Roumania a few years ago and have been waiting to get here since. I think it's my favourite place so far; immense classical buildings, all very Belle Epoque, but crumbling and ratty and draped with thousands of electrical wires like a sad Christmas tree. In 1930 the city was considered the Paris of Eastern Europe, but 50 years of Communism and dictatorship will do it to you. The simple geographical flaw of being close to Russia was enough to turn Bucharest from ravishing to ratty. Had a lovely sunny day on Friday, wandered the boulevards and parks, and the revolutionary square where Ceaucescu made his last speech before being shot in 1989, and then the Museum of the Romanian Peasant. Fantastic museum—fantastic shop. Have bought required hippy shirt of muslin embroidered by some Romanian granny/Indian 8-year old. 

Romanian food a bit stodgy—the fallback in every restaurant is mamaliguta, a sort of polenta with sour cream. Lots of pork and lots of soups. Went to a big beer hall-type place for a group lunch yesterday, the appetizer plate included headcheese (brawn), curd cheese, olives and some sort of cured sausage. Beer is fairly cheap and good—Ursus and Silva.

On the road today, driving toward the Bulgarian border. Bushcamp tonight—one night in Bulgaria which I suspect will make the hard men humble. Or it should. A bunch of them went out last night and got back to the campsite about an hour before we left at 7:30am—they're feeling it today.

Personal pet peeve—not that I like to complain, except I do—is the way bags are multiplying exponentially. I can't see how we're going to be able to fit all our stuff in the truck in another week at this rate. Every day there's another plastic bag (or six) containing god knows what tossed in the back, all of which have to be gotten off and on twice a day. Argh.

Just had lunch at the Dryanovski Monastery—very Durmstrang. Monks in black with long dark beards, chanting, and dark old stone-and-wood buildings. Cold today, drizzly and grey, and we're up in the mountains, very atmospheric. We skipped out on the 20 cent (or whatever it is here) fare for the loo. Definitely going to Orthodox hell now.

Speaking of fares and fare dodging...got caught out in Bucharest on the bus without tickets. Fair enough, we knew we needed them, though there wasn't anyplace to buy them at the campground. You'll understand that I would have happily paid if I tell you the nearest ticket booth is in fact at Ikea...but no one else wanted to hike up there. We all got fined 50 lei, which comes to about 10 euro. Rather excitingly, prison was threatened, but only because some us (who lack a healthy sense of fear-of-authority) wanted to debate the fairness of the system (with authorities who were part of a dictatorship in recent memory). Anyhow, we survive to skip another fare another day.