After the stunning architecture of Prague and the majestic beauty of the Bavarian Alps, my initial impression of Bucharest is tepid.
It’s a city in transition. The old, dirty physical remnants of communism Ceausescu-style haven’t been washed away. Amid the gray, block buildings of a failed economic system are shiny glass structures, testimony to a more prosperous future. And in and among all of it is the occasional historic jewel.
It’s Bucharest, baby, and it’s a loud, noisy capitol city that is a hodgepodge of past and present and home to more than 2 million people.
John and I visited an enormous market yesterday to stock our narrow, but well-equipped kitchen.
Vendors hawked their wares and produce, fruit and meat were plentiful. I was surprised to see that you could bring an empty bottle and have it filled with unpasteurized milk.
We popped into a wine store and discovered that you can bring-your-own-bottle to buy wine as well. Or, you can buy a plastic, 2-liter bottle from the retailer like we did and fill it with the Romanian wine of your choice. We opted for a Merlot.
Strolling around the Old Town today, I spotted a red circle on a old building. It indicates that the structure isn’t built to withstand an earthquake.
The Stavropoleos Monastery has survived an earthquake or two. Restored to perfection, it was originally built in 1724.