Today you find me in Bucharest and the only word I have been able to find all day to describe it is odd. Wierd would be too strong a term, it's just different - odd.
It's dirty, pigeon ridden, judging by the number of bait boxes in the streets - rat infested, unkempt and I would even go so far as to say a bit seedy but by the end of today I have started to develop a liking of it. And lets get the big thing out of the way too - its hard on the eye. The government buildings are grand brutal, the domestic architecture is just plain brutal. There are some nice buildings but they are few and far between.
 |
One of the nicer buildings. The statue of Kings Carol I on a horse, used to be a statue of Lenin |
 |
But mainly its this! |
But I would also stress that whilst the description above is not glowing no one should get the impression that its not safe - quite the opposite. Bucharest is a city, like Berlin, that has had a difficult recent past but has not had the vast amounts of money thrown at it to manage that history. Prague, Budapest and Krakow see large amounts of tourists and if anything have been Disneyfied. I have never heard of anyone booking their stag weekend in Bucharest, there is little tourism here, people fly in to the airport but immediately transfer straight to Transylvania.
The big ticket item to see the Ceausescu's Palace of the Parliament. The second largest administrative building on Earth after the Pentagon and the heaviest building in the world which is sinking 2mm per a year as a result. It dominates the city, its an all roads lead to it sort of building. Like Prora in Germany, the Romanians are stuck with it, as it is just simply too big to demolish. The creation of one odd, megalomanic, dictator. Acres and acres of marble built at a time when the government could not provide enough food for its people.
You can of course take a tour inside, its well worth it and the guide was excellent, but it is so overwelming that the end result, is that you keep coming back to that word odd.
 |
It contains an opera house type theatre |
 |
Miles of Corridors |
 |
The Pink Room is used for enteraining foreign dignatories. Its pink because pink does not appear on anyones flag so doesn't show favouritism to any one country |
You will see from these pictures that not all the lights are on, many chandeliers are not lit. The guide said that a) The goverment simply can't afford to switch them on but also b) if everything in the building was switched on at the same time the lights in the rest of Bucharest would probably go out!
Ironically when Ceausescu was overthrown the building was only 70% complete so he never got to use it. He gave that final infamous speech from the balcony of the Minstry of the Interior at which the assembled crowd instead of cheering, laughed and the end was then nigh. After escaping by helicopter both Nicolae and his wife Elena were captured, tried and executed. The execution was broadcast on TV on Christmas Day 1989 - I think the BBC would probably implode if they had to do that instead of showing the Sound of Music!
 |
Ministry of the Interior Balcony |
This beautiful little Orthadox church is a symbol against the destruction of Ceausescu. Huge areas of central Bucharest were demolished to allow the construction of of the state's new buuldings, around 30,000 lost their homes but a man called Eugeniu Iordachrscu developed a way of moving buildings and had this church moved 245 metres to safety. It's small, a quiet oasis in a busy city, and perfect.
The avenue running up to the Palace of the Parliament is based on the Champs-Elysees in Paris but of course for Ceausescu had to be slightly longer and slighly wider. On the central reservation is a long row of dancing fountains
I went on a walking tour yesterday evening and the guide said that statistically foreigners only visit Bucharest once. I've only been here a day and a half, there are a couple of other things maybe I would have liked to see here but i can live with out doing. So yes it is highly unlikely that I will return, but I am glad I visited.