Perfectly Pleasant

Today was the tagger alongers first full day in Romania. It started at the hotel by the airport. We slept in a little bit allowing the girls to catch up on their sleep. Waking up was followed by the short jaunt down the stairs to have an early lunch in the hotel restaurant.

This would be their first introduction to Romanian restaurant food.

Romanian restaurant food is among the least imaginative in the world. If you were to walk on a street with 10 restaurants on it and pick one randomly you would have seen them all. Schnitzel (chicken and pork), maize with sour cream, soup, odd salads and pizza seems to cover restaurant offerings. Most of the time if you order a meat dish you are left to order a side separately.

Service for the most part is fair to poor with the servers having a “why did you come disturb me” attitude.

This restaurant was nice looking. Clean. On the small side.

The food was good. Swell is often excited at Romanian restaurants because they have some traditional Romanian foods. She is often left disappointed by the food as it is not as good as her Mother or Grandmother make.

After lunch we caught a cab and headed to Pantelimon. The plan for this day was to take it really easy to allow the girls to acclimatize and get over any jet lag they might be experiencing.

We would introduce them to Swell’s Grandma and Getta.

With plenty of warning about Getta’s incessant desire to kiss anything that walks through her door the girls wound up in Pantelmion amidst the mud and the stink and the garbage.

Greetings were had and Getta was much calmer than either Swell or I had ever imagined she would be (that wouldn’t last long).

Eventually Getta began to jump around and squeal with excitement that Juuuudy and Sooon-eeeee-jaaa were here. She was sure to kiss them on each cheek and I believe even kissed The Good One’s arm a few times.

In keeping with the lets get acquainted theme of the day we decided to take the maxi-taxi to Cora to get some supplies and introduce the girls to the worst that Romania has to offer.

We walked with them, Getta and Grandma in tow, through the dust and the dirt and the mud and the garbage and the dogs and the stink to the maxi-taxi stop.

I was BITTERLY disappointed to see the larger version of the maxi-taxi making its way down the lane.

It was actually a relatively comfortable ride although as the taxi made its way down its route it became fuller and fuller.

One of the goals at Cora was to use the bank machine to obtain some money for the girls.

First bank machine: “Out of service”
Second bank machine: “Out of service”

As their frustration grew my giddiness grew.

“Its not just me! Things don’t work for others in Romania as well!”

The third bank machine was functioning and they were both Lei-d.

Browsing and shopping were done and we were soon back on the road to Panty Lemons.

It was with absolute giddiness that I saw the maxi-taxi approach.

Small.

Very full.

These girls were going to suffer for coming to Romania and I was going to enjoy saying “I told you so” every chance I could get.

We squeezed our way on.

I hit my head.

We stood in the heat and the body odor with little to no air flow in the maxi-taxi.

The look of fear in the girls eyes was apparent although they would not admit that this ride was anything but “fine”.

Fine. Sure.

Say that now.

What will you say in a few days?

The rest of the day was spent having some type of dinner and reading and watching TV. The girls went to bed early and were rather shocked by the Pantelimon choir.

Me = Giddy!

My giddiness would only grow the next day.

The next day was the start of our touring.

We would stop being family visitors and become tourists with the arrival of this day.

Grandma and Getta joined us on our adventure.

We walked amidst the dirt and the mud and the dust and the dogs and the garbage to the far maxi-taxi stop where JDL and the Good One got a feel for the so-called patience held by Romanians.

It had been over a minute and the maxi-taxi wasn’t here yet! What to do?

How about wait longer?

So we waited and it arrived and it was full and I was giddy.

And we got on the maxi-taxi.

I hit my head.

And we stood among the heat and the body odor as we made our way to the Titan metro station.

We would be taking the metro to the People’s Palace where Grandma, Getta, JDL, the Good One, and I would see it for the first time.

It opened for tours at 10:00 am. We strolled in at 10:15 am to a small group waiting in the lobby.

We soon learned that this group wasn’t just standing around rather they were waiting to buy tickets.

The ticket seller was not yet there; however there were about 6 other workers standing around doing nothing. Apparently they have not been cross trained to do the very difficult job of selling tickets.

At 10:30 am we began to grow frustrated. It was an odd feeling for me. As my frustration grew a competing giddiness also grew. This is Romania! Swell had to go to the washroom but found out that the only washroom available was on the other side of security and one couldn’t access that side of security without a ticket and, of course, the ticket seller was not available.

10:45 am and still no ticket seller. A fellow who arranges tours for a living was beginning to grow frustrated. As he asked when the ticket seller was going to be there and was told, apparently not for the first time, in 10 – 15 minutes.

Swell about to burst and the rest of us bored decided to venture out into the world and return later. As Swell asked a worker where we could go for water and a bathroom she was told “in the park” (which was NOT true) and given a ticket to return for an English language tour at Noon.

We walked and walked and walked.

In the heat and the dust of Bucharest eventually coming across a place to buy water. (After following signs for a place that was actually closed down). Swell asked for a bathroom but was told “No bathrooms”. She begged for a bathroom indicating that we were going to buy 6 waters and a different worker relented and allowed her to use the staff bathroom.

Relieved – we headed back to the Palace.

As we entered the palace we saw the same group of people standing around as when we left.

The good news, though, was that the ticket seller was there!

Swell purchased our tickets for noon and we sat around. The career tour leader was enraged and yelling about having been there for over an hour and a half and his clients had still not gotten a tour. He was told they could go on the noon tour. He was livid and yelled and screamed his clients onto the 11:45 am tour.

I was ecstatic. About to burst when the best possible thing happened as we sat waiting for our tour time to arrive the ticket seller closed her door and left leaving all the new arrivals without a way to buy tickets.

When they asked when the could get tickets they were told 10-15 minutes.

Arguably THE most important tourist attraction in Bucharest run as if it were in Romania… I was giddy, and angry, and frustrated, and tired. But mostly giddy. These girls were already growing weary of this God-forsaken place. I could see it in their eyes, although they would only admit to this all being “fine” but something that wouldn’t happen elsewhere.

The tour was very good although our guide was very quiet.

Really neat place and we learned some stuff.

Grandma seemed angry that after the revolution the new government didn’t rush to finish the project. It was about 70% done when the revolution happened and is now only 90% done. This seemed to tick her off to no end. I believe she claimed that government wasn’t doing anything. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that it was an unnecessary expense and that if they were to finish this opulent building the money would have to come from somewhere.

After the tour it was time for lunch. Swell and I had a place in mind and walked and walked toward it. Upon arrival I was beyond giddy to realize that it was closed down for renovations.

We crossed the street saw a sign for an air conditioned restaurant and entered.

NOT air conditioned but we stayed anyway.

And the food was expensive and it was what one would expect in a Romanian restaurant.

And it was slow service and it was hot and it was just ok and I was giddy.

After lunch it was time to wander around looking for the Nut on a Stick or more commonly known as the monument for the hero’s of the revolution.

We walked and we walked and we walked and we eventually came across it and it looked like a nut on a stick.

We then walked and walked and walked and walked in the heat and the heat to the metro station and we took the metro station to the maxi-taxi stop where we had desserts and drinks and then caught the maxi-taxi.

It was small and I was giddy.

It was empty and I was disappointed.

But as it got closer and closer to Pantelimon in got more and more full eventually being beyond full and I was giddy again.

And we got to the mud and the dust and the dirt and the dogs and the stench of Pantelimon and we pushed our way off the maxi-taxi and I hit my head as I pushed by the front of the bus standers.

And we walked the km to the house and enjoyed the heat and the dust and the stench and the dogs.

And the day was over.

And the girls said the day was “Perfectly pleasant”.

But I knew.

And then the choir started and I was giddy.


******************************ADDED*************************

Title: Why isn't 2.5 hours long enough?

I forgot to mention that on the previous day we also happened across a site that Swell really wanted to see – a very famous amphitheater. It was at this amphitheater that Swell got her just deserts.

We paid our fee.

We entered a beautiful lobby area where the tour was to begin.

The tour was in Romanian. Swell was told that she should translate for the non-Romanian speakers.

The guide was a know-it-all who spoke very quickly and didn’t enunciate. Swell did a good job of translating as far as we could tell but every so often she’d give the guide a blank look simultaneously expressing huh? and say what?

This drove the guide to a bitterness reserved only for people like me.

He proclaimed that Swell, being Romanian, should know the history of this site inside and out.

Aghast Swell stated 1) I left here as a child and 2) I came here to learn the history.

He was unmoved.

I applaud her translation and her beauty. It was fun and even Grandma said she couldn’t understand the guy.

The next day, Saturday, we were left to our own devices as Grandma and Getta were worn out by the previous days events.

This was to be a museum day.

The first stop (after the dirt, the dogs, the mud, the garbage, the stench, the maxi-taxi and the metro) was the peasant museum.

JDL being, well JDL, had to rent one of those guided tour machines. So we said to her “tell us the interesting things that that doohickey tells you”. Not surprisingly, what with us being both in a peasant museum and in a peasant museum in Romania, she remained relatively silent and would later proclaim the doohickey not so great.

The peasant museum presented us with a lot of religious artifacts, costumes, daily living items, etc. It also included signs proclaiming that it mattered less what these items were intended for and what their history was and more how they reflected the religion of the peasants. The signs (and the doohickey) continued by telling us that the museum was intended to bring us into awe of how religion and God influenced the daily lives of these Romanian peasants.
I could have done with fewer icons and more history of how the peasants survived but all in all it was a fun museum.

Following those good times we tried to go to the restaurant attached to the museum. It turned out to be a bar (this is a trend that will haunt us throughout the trip) with very little food. The food that they did serve was not fit for non-Romanian consumption. I have no problem with people eating strange things but I prefer not to eat them myself.

They served mostly cold cuts (of which brain is a component of some). We didn’t feel that this would be an appropriate lunch so we decided to catch a cab to our next destination and get something to eat around there.

After a lengthy walk we caught a taxi whose driver said they knew of a good restaurant in the very large park that housed our next museum (a peasant village museum).

He drove us to a restaurant that as we drove by I thought looked quite deserted.

As the taxi drove off we realized that the reason I thought the restaurant looked deserted was because it was.

It was closed for a private function.

We were stuck in a park with no roads and no idea where the museum was.

Swell took off and tried to catch up to the cab that just dropped us off.

Luckily he had parked just outside the park entrance and we were able to have him drive us closer to the museum.

We found a place to eat and were promptly disappointed with the very expensive food.

C’est la vie? Non?

At the entrance to the museum JDL was saddened, and the rest of us relieved, to find out that although they have doohickey guides there were none available at that time/location.

The museum itself was quite interesting, although it was a scorcher of a day.

It was a large museum of churches and homes from various regions of Romania and various centuries.

We found it interesting that the outsides of the homes were very different from each other but the inside layout of each home was basically the same. And is still the same in rural Romania to this day.

A couple of living/sleeping areas, a central area and a kitchen outside of the house.

We have plenty of pictures and will post them later (we have a poor internet connection and it would not be prudent to upload pictures). One of my favourite pictures is JDL standing in front of a house made specifically for her. It looks very much like a hobbit house and if you know JDL you know she is very hobbit like.

I could see that The Good One was starting to fade fast toward the later part of the day as it was, as I said, a scorcher. She doesn’t handle the heat real well but being the trooper she is she hung in there.

Following our few hours at the museum we were going to pop into the Hard Rock Café right next door to the museum for dessert and water.

It was, of course, closed for a private event so we headed elsewhere.

It was a long and tiring day but we were able to do some things that Swell has wanted to do for some time without being able to.

We joked that the peasant journey would continue the next day as we were heading to La Tara (the country) to visit with Grandpa and expose the girls to life in Rural Romania.

Before heading to Pantelimon we stopped in on Grandpa and his Lady in downtown Bucharest. I ran up the 10 flights of stairs because the elevators are not built for more than three people. Grandpa and his lady were happy to see us and Swell was happy to visit them one more time.

The difficulty with going to the country is transportation.

Being young and slightly insane people we had no qualms with taking the bus. Grandma wanted us to get up super early and take a maxi-taxi to the first stop on the bus route to ensure we got a seat.

We declined and said we’d take our chances at the stop closest to the house.

We walked (of course through the dust and the dirt and the mud and the dogs and the stench) a few kilometers to the main road where the bus would show up. We carried our food and our clothes for a one night stay. It was stay one night or stay a couple of hours as the bus only comes through twice a day (5 am and 2:30 pm).

On the way to the bus stop we stopped at the local convenience store for an on the road snack. This on the road snack would also be lunch.

Being North Americans we chose chips and pop.

One of the very nice Pantelimon woman decided that it was her place to mention that we shouldn’t be buying chips as they are “bad for us” and we aren’t the thinnest people in the world.

Swell responded that this was a snack for the bus and travels well, besides we didn’t really love Romanian food that much.

The store worker (owner?) chimed in with “Don’t like Romanian food? Why it’s the best food in the world!”

Now I’m not the brightest nail in the tool shed but this whole exchange raises various questions.

1) Should one who is most likely at the store purchasing beer and cigarettes be allowed to chide people for “unhealthy” snacks?
2) Romanian food is the best food in the world? Says who? I have never seen a Romanian restaurant outside of Romania. Some Romanian food is very good but as a whole it is rather simple fare.
3) Do Romanians have a filter between their brain and their mouths? If not why not? Is it due to communism or does it go back further than that?
4) Why do I keep hearing commercials on TV and the radio encouraging people to eat less sugar, fat and salt but not telling them to stop smoking and drinking?

We arrived at the bus stop quite early as Grandma walks fast and always wants to be at the stop early.

We were surprised to learn that the bus did not, in fact, stop at the bus shelter with the benches and the shade and the sickly looking dogs. Rather it stopped further up the road where there was completely no indication that a bus would stop there.

Makes perfect sense to me.

Getta could barely contain herself as she was excited to see her cats and she loves the country.

So after waiting 45 minutes or so the bus arrives mostly empty. Yippee! Seats for all.

In fact we had seats to spare. So our luggage had seats as well.

We arrived in the country said Hi to Grandpa and looked around the area. I soon heard JDL muttering “and 2.5 hours here isn’t long enough because?”

And I laughed and thought “wait to you have to go to sleep with the flies”.

We hung out, we took pictures, we walked around, we ate, we read, we survived. Swell visited.

Bed time.

Three beds needed for the visitors. Three beds available.

Two in one room. One in another.

Makes most sense to put the girls in the room with two beds.

Bed 1 – The Good one. This is the bed that Swell and I usually sleep in. Pretty comfortable. Not too bad although this is the bed that through my back out earlier in this trip. She slept well. Except for being scared half to death by a cat jumping at the window but that’s her story.

Bed 2 – JDL. I took a tonne of stuff sent from America off of this bed to prepare it for her. I wiped the dirt off of it. I was even kind enough to take the bag of Raid (moth balls?) off of it for her. Do I get any thanks? No. Instead she claims she couldn’t sleep because the mattress has a soft spot in it where her butt was. She claims that the bed stunk and that her butt was touching the wooden slats because of the soft spot. She, as already stated, slept poorly.

Bed 3 – Swell and me. Well. Ummmm. Bed 3 is made out of hay. I “slept” in a hay bed. Hay. Bed. What is it 1837? Hay. Covered with something to make a mattress. HAY!

The night ended. Time passed. We said goodbye to Getta and Grandpa and caught the bus home.

It was a small bus. We had seats. Others? Stood for two hours until Bucharest. There was sweat. Body odor. Alcohol smells. Yelling. Speeding. Bumps. Discussion of curent (which will kill you). Swell was sucked into a never ending conversation with two people STANDING next to her for over an hour. It was miserable. We will never speak of it again.

But we were back in Pantelimon!

With the dogs and the dirt and the mud and the stench.

But sadness came too as Swell was leaving her family the next day.

The next day we called a taxi and he took us to the train station. Grandma cried. Swell cried. We were happy to be leaving but sad that we had to leave people behind.

I think JDL and the Good One were happy to be leaving Bucharest/Pantelimon behind.

I’ve since heard the rumblings of “miserable” replacing “perfectly pleasant”.

It’s sad that Romania (or is it just Bucharest?) evokes such distaste in those who visit. I truly hope that as the era of communism is left further and further behind that things change. That the people change. That Bucharest becomes what it once was.

Here’s hoping.