Bucharest in December!
Feb 1st, 2017, 06:17 AM
#1
Bucharest in December!
DH had work matters; and when DD and three of her teen girlfriends offered to house/dog sit for the mere charge of pizza money and nachos ingredients, I decided to check off the last capital of a former Warsaw Pact country. Because my two days passed much too quickly I offer not a highly organized set of notes and commentary, but rather a stream of consciousness...
Though not known for certain, Vlad the Impaler's hometown has its origins in the Romanian word for joy, Bucur, and that is indeed what I felt within moments of my arrival on a December evening. If something could be decorated or strung with lights, the joyful people of Bucharest were on it! The city may be the, "Paris of the East," but easily rivals New York City for its display of Christmas lights. And so began my whirlwind in Romania's capital.
My first order of business was to meet DH for dinner (he had arrived three days prior for work) at one of Bucharest's oldest and prettiest restaurants, the richly decorated Caru’ cu Bere. Reservations had thankfully been secured, and we were given a table on the second level, offering a spectacular bird's eye view of the periodic entertainment.
Romania's cuisine offered a few surprises on the typical Central/Eastern European meat-and-potatoes theme, and influences from the neighbors were in every meal. On this evening we began with a Mangalitza (Hungarian hairy pig) and cheese board and paired it with a Romanian Sauvignon Blanc. I chose the Sarmale as my entree, and the dish was not the beef and rice-stuffed cabbage leaves (Gołąbki) of my childhood but a more savory stuffed dish with seasoned pork, caramelized onions and rice and served with creamy polenta. DH selected a roast duck dish that was a little bit a la confit and a little bit Eastern Europe, and entirely mouthwatering.
Our walk back to the hotel took us past a singing and dancing Santa (one of several) and the National Bank, all aglow. People and holiday spirit filled the streets.
Since the 1990's Bucharest has taken a strong interest in historical preservation, and restored buildings must keep at least the exterior facade true to its period. We wandered into Cârturești Carusel, a so-much-more-than-a-bookstore tucked into a restored mansion in the old city. Stunning, both inside and out. The store was abuzz with activity as late as 2130 when we dropped in. We could only imagine such excitement in Vienna!
Part 1.
The following day, the only full day in Romania’s capital, I and my camera gave priority first to one of its major boulevards, Calea Victoriei, brimming with photo opportunities, and whatever else caught my eye on this crisp but sunny day. Museums would have to wait for another visit.
I passed a number of picturesque buildings abutting something dreary and graffitied. Not an atypical composition in Bucharest, I discovered.
The Royal Palace, now the art museum, and also where Romania's (presumptive heir) HRH Princess Margareta Custodian of the Romanian Crown celebrates birthdays and special events. Hers is an interesting story: born in exile in 1949 and educated in Switzerland and Britain, she returned to Romania after the revolution to help the country heal. As she is the oldest of four daughters, her father, King Michael changed the rules to allow a gender-blind inheritance, as he believes (along with some Romanians) that a return to a monarchist rule is possible someday. From what I have been able to learn, she is thought of favorably by the Romanian people.
The Memorial of Rebirth, erected after 1989 and sitting in Revolution Square. The building to the right is the one from which Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu attempted their helicopter escape.
Along the way, a stop for a traditional Romanian lunch of Mietiti. Think Kofta, Kebab, or Cevapcici, but with a stronger and equally delicious flavor, and you have Mietiti. That they are ubiquitous is an understatement, popping up in street stands everywhere. Realizing I had walked 11 kilometers, however, I opted to sit for lunch.
Based on a few teaser texts from DH earlier in the week (Like, "You are going to LOVE the old city!), I wanted to save the best snap ops for last. I first stumbled upon a Christmas/Antique Market occupying an abandoned former important villa. Several large items tempted me, until I thought about the logistics of flying them home.
Bucharest's beauty isn't all in-your-face like some of the polished capitals of Europe; it's more in the eye of the beholder. A little background might help: a 7.3 magnitude earthquake hit outside of Bucharest in 1977, destroying quite a few buildings and severely damaging others. Ceaușescu saw the opportunity to make his architectural mark on the city, hence the ugly socialist monoliths that detract from one's Parisian daydreaming.
Damage within the old city was so severe that it was essentially evacuated and left to history. After the revolution, engineers and architects (along with entrepreneurs) returned to the old city and began restoration. Buildings with significant structural damage were tagged with a red plaque, indicating that they were subject to collapse should Bucharest suffer another strong earthquake. These "Scarlet Letter" buildings meant a lower sales price in the post-Communism economy, so many owners simply removed the circles and have left the buildings to naturally decay.
With the afternoon winding to a close, I hurried to snap Hanu' lui Manuc before the blue skies turned to dusk. The building is one of few Caravanserai remaining across southeastern Europe and Asia. These inns served camel and horse caravans making their way toward the Silk Road; now, much of the inn is a fine restaurant at which we dined later in the evening, with a tiny corner space reserved for a Starbucks. Of course.
1.400g of Caramelized Lamb Knuckle. The "ultimate" culinary and cultural fusion to be shared between diners of several empires. So said our wait staff. We just thought it sounded fun (and we were quite happy that many of those 1.400 grams were lamb knuckle bone!) And for the record, it was possibly the most succulent roast lamb we have ever enjoyed.
After dinner we attempted to hail a taxi to the Christmas market (1.400g dinner + 1 bottle of wine + cold temperatures + a 1 kilometer walk...you get the idea.) A (young) taxi driver outside the inn, born after the revolution, could not be bothered with our measly fare of Leu5 (~€1) and declined our request. An (older) taxi driver, no doubt a young Romanian man under Communism, quickly stepped in and said, "Market? Leu20!" The deal was sealed.
Bucharest's lone Christmas market presented itself in the square in front of the Palace of the Parliament, for which I had a tour reservation the following day. Tredlnik, traditional pastries and hearty fare made by adorable bunicăs, and...nachos! Because, why not? Bucharest was not shy about embracing Americana, either, and if the city had a second official language, I think it would be English!
Funny, but when we walked back from the market (with yet another ceramic piece to carry home on the plane!) the young driver was (still) there.
Part II.
With my sightseeing clock ticking down, all that remained was the scheduled tour of the Palace of the Parliament.
My photos barely capture the enormity of this palace, the second largest administrative building in the world (behind the US Pentagon). Intended to be the, "heart of the Romanian people," its construction displaced 40.000 people and more than 20.000 workers spent 13 years building the 350.000m2 palace.
Everything in the palace seemed out of proportion, with 20 meter high ceilings and 250kg velvet curtains, 1.000 rooms and more than 3.500 tons of crystal in the chandeliers, and so on.
In the main hall was quite possibly the saddest Christmas tree I have ever seen. Tall and grand but lacking lights and ornaments, it seemed a fitting metaphor for the palace.
In order to have carpets large enough for the rooms, the pattern was copied by craftswomen across Romania who created panels, and then the panels were sewn together. In the right lighting the panel differences could be seen.
One room was identified as the, "Human Rights Room," for its use of a round table to make everyone "equal." I did not ask our guide, but I have to assume this room was named post-revolution.
From the Grand Ballroom one can access the balcony, overlooking Bulevardul Unirii (Boulevard of Unity) and modeled after the Champs Elyseè, and just a wee bit longer. I am sure Parisians are jealous.
It was from this balcony that Ceaușescu intended to give a unifying speech to Romanians; we know how that ended. The first person to actually give a speech on the balcony was Michael Jackson, who visited in 1992. Seeing the crowds, he walked out and said, "Hello, Budapest!" Not making this up.
Our tour concluded with a brief visit to part of the basement, with an odd collection of Communism leftovers of Ceaușescu's reign. That too, seemed appropriate.
The building is now officially the, "Palace of the Parliament," as both houses have offices here. Though, having been designed and built by the Romanian people, using Romanian materials and traditional craftsmanship, it is truly a Palace of the People.
And that was that. DH and I met for a horrible prix-fixe lunch with service so dreadful (30 minutes for beverages, another 40 until the cold soup and skimpy first courses arrived together!) that we had to skip the dessert in order to get to the airport, where the cost of our shared plate of hummus and pita (we were still a bit hungry) would make an extortionist blush. A short hop later, and we were home.
Though not known for certain, Vlad the Impaler's hometown has its origins in the Romanian word for joy, Bucur, and that is indeed what I felt within moments of my arrival on a December evening. If something could be decorated or strung with lights, the joyful people of Bucharest were on it! The city may be the, "Paris of the East," but easily rivals New York City for its display of Christmas lights. And so began my whirlwind in Romania's capital.
My first order of business was to meet DH for dinner (he had arrived three days prior for work) at one of Bucharest's oldest and prettiest restaurants, the richly decorated Caru’ cu Bere. Reservations had thankfully been secured, and we were given a table on the second level, offering a spectacular bird's eye view of the periodic entertainment.
Romania's cuisine offered a few surprises on the typical Central/Eastern European meat-and-potatoes theme, and influences from the neighbors were in every meal. On this evening we began with a Mangalitza (Hungarian hairy pig) and cheese board and paired it with a Romanian Sauvignon Blanc. I chose the Sarmale as my entree, and the dish was not the beef and rice-stuffed cabbage leaves (Gołąbki) of my childhood but a more savory stuffed dish with seasoned pork, caramelized onions and rice and served with creamy polenta. DH selected a roast duck dish that was a little bit a la confit and a little bit Eastern Europe, and entirely mouthwatering.
Our walk back to the hotel took us past a singing and dancing Santa (one of several) and the National Bank, all aglow. People and holiday spirit filled the streets.
Since the 1990's Bucharest has taken a strong interest in historical preservation, and restored buildings must keep at least the exterior facade true to its period. We wandered into Cârturești Carusel, a so-much-more-than-a-bookstore tucked into a restored mansion in the old city. Stunning, both inside and out. The store was abuzz with activity as late as 2130 when we dropped in. We could only imagine such excitement in Vienna!
Part 1.
The following day, the only full day in Romania’s capital, I and my camera gave priority first to one of its major boulevards, Calea Victoriei, brimming with photo opportunities, and whatever else caught my eye on this crisp but sunny day. Museums would have to wait for another visit.
I passed a number of picturesque buildings abutting something dreary and graffitied. Not an atypical composition in Bucharest, I discovered.
The Royal Palace, now the art museum, and also where Romania's (presumptive heir) HRH Princess Margareta Custodian of the Romanian Crown celebrates birthdays and special events. Hers is an interesting story: born in exile in 1949 and educated in Switzerland and Britain, she returned to Romania after the revolution to help the country heal. As she is the oldest of four daughters, her father, King Michael changed the rules to allow a gender-blind inheritance, as he believes (along with some Romanians) that a return to a monarchist rule is possible someday. From what I have been able to learn, she is thought of favorably by the Romanian people.
The Memorial of Rebirth, erected after 1989 and sitting in Revolution Square. The building to the right is the one from which Nicolae and Elena Ceaușescu attempted their helicopter escape.
Along the way, a stop for a traditional Romanian lunch of Mietiti. Think Kofta, Kebab, or Cevapcici, but with a stronger and equally delicious flavor, and you have Mietiti. That they are ubiquitous is an understatement, popping up in street stands everywhere. Realizing I had walked 11 kilometers, however, I opted to sit for lunch.
Based on a few teaser texts from DH earlier in the week (Like, "You are going to LOVE the old city!), I wanted to save the best snap ops for last. I first stumbled upon a Christmas/Antique Market occupying an abandoned former important villa. Several large items tempted me, until I thought about the logistics of flying them home.
Bucharest's beauty isn't all in-your-face like some of the polished capitals of Europe; it's more in the eye of the beholder. A little background might help: a 7.3 magnitude earthquake hit outside of Bucharest in 1977, destroying quite a few buildings and severely damaging others. Ceaușescu saw the opportunity to make his architectural mark on the city, hence the ugly socialist monoliths that detract from one's Parisian daydreaming.
Damage within the old city was so severe that it was essentially evacuated and left to history. After the revolution, engineers and architects (along with entrepreneurs) returned to the old city and began restoration. Buildings with significant structural damage were tagged with a red plaque, indicating that they were subject to collapse should Bucharest suffer another strong earthquake. These "Scarlet Letter" buildings meant a lower sales price in the post-Communism economy, so many owners simply removed the circles and have left the buildings to naturally decay.
With the afternoon winding to a close, I hurried to snap Hanu' lui Manuc before the blue skies turned to dusk. The building is one of few Caravanserai remaining across southeastern Europe and Asia. These inns served camel and horse caravans making their way toward the Silk Road; now, much of the inn is a fine restaurant at which we dined later in the evening, with a tiny corner space reserved for a Starbucks. Of course.
1.400g of Caramelized Lamb Knuckle. The "ultimate" culinary and cultural fusion to be shared between diners of several empires. So said our wait staff. We just thought it sounded fun (and we were quite happy that many of those 1.400 grams were lamb knuckle bone!) And for the record, it was possibly the most succulent roast lamb we have ever enjoyed.
After dinner we attempted to hail a taxi to the Christmas market (1.400g dinner + 1 bottle of wine + cold temperatures + a 1 kilometer walk...you get the idea.) A (young) taxi driver outside the inn, born after the revolution, could not be bothered with our measly fare of Leu5 (~€1) and declined our request. An (older) taxi driver, no doubt a young Romanian man under Communism, quickly stepped in and said, "Market? Leu20!" The deal was sealed.
Bucharest's lone Christmas market presented itself in the square in front of the Palace of the Parliament, for which I had a tour reservation the following day. Tredlnik, traditional pastries and hearty fare made by adorable bunicăs, and...nachos! Because, why not? Bucharest was not shy about embracing Americana, either, and if the city had a second official language, I think it would be English!
Funny, but when we walked back from the market (with yet another ceramic piece to carry home on the plane!) the young driver was (still) there.
Part II.
With my sightseeing clock ticking down, all that remained was the scheduled tour of the Palace of the Parliament.
My photos barely capture the enormity of this palace, the second largest administrative building in the world (behind the US Pentagon). Intended to be the, "heart of the Romanian people," its construction displaced 40.000 people and more than 20.000 workers spent 13 years building the 350.000m2 palace.
Everything in the palace seemed out of proportion, with 20 meter high ceilings and 250kg velvet curtains, 1.000 rooms and more than 3.500 tons of crystal in the chandeliers, and so on.
In the main hall was quite possibly the saddest Christmas tree I have ever seen. Tall and grand but lacking lights and ornaments, it seemed a fitting metaphor for the palace.
In order to have carpets large enough for the rooms, the pattern was copied by craftswomen across Romania who created panels, and then the panels were sewn together. In the right lighting the panel differences could be seen.
One room was identified as the, "Human Rights Room," for its use of a round table to make everyone "equal." I did not ask our guide, but I have to assume this room was named post-revolution.
From the Grand Ballroom one can access the balcony, overlooking Bulevardul Unirii (Boulevard of Unity) and modeled after the Champs Elyseè, and just a wee bit longer. I am sure Parisians are jealous.
It was from this balcony that Ceaușescu intended to give a unifying speech to Romanians; we know how that ended. The first person to actually give a speech on the balcony was Michael Jackson, who visited in 1992. Seeing the crowds, he walked out and said, "Hello, Budapest!" Not making this up.
Our tour concluded with a brief visit to part of the basement, with an odd collection of Communism leftovers of Ceaușescu's reign. That too, seemed appropriate.
The building is now officially the, "Palace of the Parliament," as both houses have offices here. Though, having been designed and built by the Romanian people, using Romanian materials and traditional craftsmanship, it is truly a Palace of the People.
And that was that. DH and I met for a horrible prix-fixe lunch with service so dreadful (30 minutes for beverages, another 40 until the cold soup and skimpy first courses arrived together!) that we had to skip the dessert in order to get to the airport, where the cost of our shared plate of hummus and pita (we were still a bit hungry) would make an extortionist blush. A short hop later, and we were home.
Feb 1st, 2017, 06:28 AM
#2
Thanks for the report. I saw Bucharest at a different time of year, so not as festive. but still interesting. I skipped the tour of the "Palace of the Parliament," just checked out the outside. Did you think the tour was worth the trek and the cost?
Feb 1st, 2017, 07:14 AM
#3
Our guide went beyond the customary and shared stories not only about the real people who contributed to the building's construction, but also a little bit about those who were relocated to make way for this monolith. He also shared his family story about how life changed for them when the regime ended. All of the facts about the building one can easily find with research, but I am also interested in the more personal side of this part of history, so these insights made the tour "worth it" to me.
The tour cost approximately ~€17 equivalent, was of limited persons (30) and ran for almost 2 hours. I have spent more (and less) on some sightseeing with mixed results; overall the experience was positive for me.
The tour cost approximately ~€17 equivalent, was of limited persons (30) and ran for almost 2 hours. I have spent more (and less) on some sightseeing with mixed results; overall the experience was positive for me.
Feb 1st, 2017, 06:34 PM
#5
Feb 3rd, 2017, 05:06 AM
#8
I do not create bucket lists; check off the "must-dos" or "Top Tens" anywhere I visit; or set a holiday because of, "Seven Reasons to Visit X." That's never worked for me. I'll consider just about any place that is safe, and within a reasonable budget to hold my interest for the amount of time I have to spend. 
