Need a random city trip recommendation? How about Bucharest!
Having confused Bucharest with Budapest and Belgrade all my life, Romania’s capital wasn’t exactly on my bucket list of travel destinations. But when my mother proposed to meet there for a long weekend, with the idea that it’s “about halfway” between the Netherlands (where she lives) and India (where I live), I decided it was a good time to visit that part of the world.
And I don’t regret it one bit. Four days seemed enough to cover all the basics. The city center is beautiful and great for walking. The many interesting sights are well marked and accessible. While the August temperature was high, we didn’t find it too hot to do the things we wanted to do.
Architecture — history and bike paths
A good tour guide can make all the difference when you want to see the layout of a city and its key buildings, and understand their function and the time periods they were built in. I opted for a bike tour because it’s efficient and fun. In four hours we covered everything from the early Dracula days and the oppression by the Ottoman Empire to the communist period and the end of Ceausescu. The bike paths were really good—better than I’ve seen in almost any other country!
After the tour we made our plans. At a minimum, we wanted to check out the museum of modern art, visit Ceausescu’s former residence, try Romanian wines, and do some shopping. We only managed about half of that though. Tickets for the former dictator’s house were already sold out and we couldn’t find a good place for wine tasting, despite Trip Advisor’s many promises. Then again, we still had a nice cup of coffee in Ceausescu’s courtyard and, naturally, nobody could stop us from sampling the local wine.
Gastronomy — good wine but awkward service
Nice restaurants were easy to find in Bucharest’s Old Town, where we stayed, though it didn’t exactly fit our vegetarian sensibilities. Meat and fish featured prominently on every menu. But with the help of a local guide we found restaurants, like Aubergine and Lacrimis Finti, where they had lovely vegetarian dishes. And Romania truly has an excellent, well developed wine industry, so we enjoyed that too.
Unfortunately, none of the waiters we encountered spoke much English, or any other language I know, and couldn’t guide us through any sort of wine tasting experience—or even understand basic requests like that we wanted to sample local wine. The best advertised wine bar was closed (“on vacation”) and the wine bar we ended up in had a strange vibe. It looked beautiful and seemed well stocked, but until about 11 PM we were the only customers—on a Saturday! The waiters had no interest in helping us but sat down at a nearby table to drink copiously with their friends (I later noticed this is a common thing to do for waiters—reportedly because they don’t get paid much). It even got to the point where my mom asked for a refill and they couldn’t give it to her because they had downed the bottle themselves! And then the waiter wouldn’t admit it and my mom got so pissed off by his drunken behavior that it nearly ruined the evening.
That night wasn’t the only time we couldn’t get what we wanted. The next day, when we sat down at a trendy coffee bar, my mom asked for sugar. Surprisingly, the barista refused. He stated that it was a “sugar free” coffee bar. I should have taken the cue and reversed my cookie order immediately but alas, we were stuck with three sugar free cookies to go with our sugar free coffee.
Convenience — beautiful old town with brothels
For a quick citytrip, Bucharest is pretty convenient. Everything I reserved in advance, from flight tickets to hotels and tours, was easy to book online and relatively affordable. Bucharest is modern enough to meet any expectation a western tourist may have, yet feels different enough to be new and interesting. Romania—a country I knew little about despite my history degree—has a fascinating past entangled with the continental European empires of yore and heavily influenced by the rule of the Turkish empire and its recent communist past.
The old city center, which is big enough to wander around in all day, is not yet overrun by tourists. Nobody bothered us for anything. We managed reasonably well in English, though we didn’t manage to strike up a conversation with anyone, and we had to use our hands and feet to get metro tickets. Romania uses the “lei” as its currency, but we never bothered to get any because credit cards are widely accepted. The water is potable everywhere we went, and the metro system was great.
There was just one jarring little problem with our location: there was a lot of prostitution. At first, we just giggled when we looked at the ladies passing by on the streets. Even the older women wore revealing clothes, showing off impressive cleavage. But after a while we couldn’t ignore the suggestive posters on the doors of many of the bars we passed any longer—clearly, there were strip clubs and brothels all over the place.
In the middle of a restaurant-lined street there was a bar where two ladies just kinda danced on a table, next to the DJ booth, in stilettos and glittery bodysuits. They looked extremely bored (or sedated) while they suggestively caressed their bodies and continuously adjusted their bra straps. Opposite a pub we sat down for a drink there was an unmarked entrance to a stairwell where men wandered in and out. When we looked up, we saw a young woman taking smoke breaks on the balcony wearing nothing but lingerie. To our horror, she had a toddler with her.
Beyond Old Town — stark differences
By day three we felt a strong urge to escape from the red light district we called home—never mind the beautiful architecture and historical landmarks—and decided to check out some other neighborhoods in Bucharest.
We took the metro up north, where we landed in what would best be described as an “embassy neighborhood.” It was clean, the houses were big, the streets were lined with trees, and we passed several upscale restaurants and coffee bars. This is where I would be living if I were posted here, I thought to myself, and didn’t dislike the idea. Until I saw something I’d never seen before: beggars dressed in Mickey Mouse costumes asking cars at the traffic lights for money. Given how hot it was that day, I found this extremely depressing.
Next, we set out for Obor market. Here, finally, we could see where regular people shop for food and clothes. It was also the first place where I saw immigrants. Until that moment I hadn’t seen a single member of the significant Nepali and Indian immigrant population. Living in India for two years, I suddenly felt much more at home. Then again, I couldn’t even buy a snack because creditcards were not accepted in this marketplace. So we had no choice but to head back to the metro and return to our own pretty but bizarre neighborhood.
On balance
So, would I recommend Bucharest based on its beautiful architecture, safe and clean streets, interesting history and excellent wine? Absolutely. But would I stay in the city’s Old Town again given the strange treatment we received at the restaurants and all the prostitution there? I’m not sure.
Just like in Amsterdam, where I lived before I became an expat, the beautiful historical city center is als the place where drugs and prostitution thrive. I lived in Amsterdam for years but never gave it much thought. I guess I hoped and assumed that the semi-legality and visibility of these things facilitated supervision and at least a basic level of security and access by health organizations. And that it’s therefore better when it’s out in the open instead of hidden and out of the sight of the authorities.
As I’m writing this I stop and think. It’s an interesting question I don’t really have an answer to. Is it better to display the underbelly of society—like the exploitation of women and the drug trade—so everyone knows about it and the society can deal with it head on, or should we avoid being any part of it, even if it’s just by observing it, for the risk of contributing to it becoming normalized? I prefer to live with my eyes wide open but I can feel my skin growing thicker with each passing day, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
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