(This should have been sent over 3 weeks ago! Sorry for the delay!!)
Hi Everyone,
Do you remember about six weeks ago I mentioned how my linguistic capabilities had developed to such an extent that I could tell someone that:
“I don’t talk to Romanians” rather than saying:
“I don’t speak Romanian”.
Well two days ago someone came up to me and again splattered a load of Romanian at me. Now in my defense I have to say they were one of the more unusual members of Bucuresti society, so that threw me a bit. But I confidently said to him:
“Nu doresc romaneste” which unfortunately meant “I don’t want Romanians”.
You know one day I might actually say in Romanian that I don’t speak Romanian. But after 20 months that is a tall order!
I know I should be talking about work. I know I should be telling you about how the project is progressing and coming to its conclusion. Instead I’m going to talk about parties!
Two weekends ago was been quite a couple of days for me. You may remember from previous e-mails that I know the financial manager at the Hilton Hotel in Bucuresti, Laura Damien. This Friday was the 10th anniversary of the Hilton opening in Romania. It was the first 5 star hotel in the country. Also it occupies an historic building in the centre of Bucuresti.
So Laura rang me asking if I would like to go to the party. It took me approximately 0.0002 of a second to say yes. However the party was a black tie affair. So I bought a wing collar shirt and borrowed a black bow tie and strutted my stuff to the Hilton Party. Loads of ambassadors were there including Robin , the British ambassador who did his best to ignore me but I still managed to corner him and make him to speak to me! The Prime Minister was there, Calin Popescu-Tariceanu, as were many stars of screen and stage in Romania none of whom I had ever seen before or recognized their names. But still it was great fun and of course all the food and drink was free. As with previous such social events (e.g. the Queens Birthday) you must be careful on such occasions not to let the offer of free drink result in you running naked through the crowd shouting “Who wants a traditional British banger” and then promptly throwing up over the Prime Minister’s car. So once again I showed great restraint. In fact when sitting with a group of 5 Romanians one of the waiters asked if we wanted drinks. Everyone ordered theirs and I said:
“Apa plata va rog” (still water please).
The waiter looked at me puzzled and then leant forward and said:
“Sorry I don’t speak English”.
The whole table shouted at him that I had spoken in Romanian but the point was made – even the most straightforward sentence is made unintelligible by me. Why do I bother?!
That event went very well was enjoyable and gave me a free evening of food and drink. The next night was a big Halloween fundraising event for a children’s charity in Romanian. The Hilton had 2 tables booked but, of course, populated with their staff and friends. So Laura said to me that since I had gone to the 10th anniversary party she would invite other people to the Halloween Ball. I said I understood – but hated her!! This Ball is one of the biggest events in Bucuresti. It is held in the People’s Palace (Ceaucescue’s huge building in the centre of the city) and in the biggest room of the Palace. Those of you who have visited the place will know it is the huge ballroom with a glass ceiling. The tickets are 325 euros each!!! Laura said I could buy a ticket if I wanted to (yea of course I would) or I could get a ticket for the after party. This started at 11.30pm and cost 100 lei – about 20 pounds. I said I would try to make the after party but there were two problems. Firstly 20 quid just to get into an after party seemed extortionate and secondly the theme was 1920s. I did not have anything that even suggested that era. But Laura said I could come in normal clothes for the after party.
However at 6.45pm my mobile goes off and it is Laura.
“Andrew, some one has cancelled for tonight so we have a spare place, do you want to come?”
“Well yes of course I’d like to”
“Great” said Laura “We will pick you up in 15 minutes we have to be at the People’s Palace by 7.30pm”.
“But I have nothing suitable to wear. Nothing in the 1920s style at all.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be OK”
“Are you in 1920s stuff” I asked
“Well…..yes…..we are.”
“I can’t turn up in normal clothes”
Then Laura said:
“Tiberiu is going as an angel, so you don’t have to wear 1920s outfits”.
“That may be the case, but I still do not have anything for Halloween” (I was not sure that an angel was exactly a good idea for a Halloween party with a 1920s theme!)
“We have a long white beard and white wig, do you have anything you could wear like a gown so you could go as Merlin or a wizard?”
By a strange co-incidence Tony, the last time he came, had brought my galibea. This is a long Egyptian gown we had bought while on the Nile cruise two years ago. So I said I could use that.
The car screeched to a halt outside my place at 7.00pm. We had to go to the Hilton Hotel to pick up the tickets and I was to change there as well. So Laura parks the car outside the hotel, we all ran into the place. Laura and Corrina run to her office to get the tickets. Tibi and I run to the toilets for me to get changed. I refused to take off my shirt and trousers as I was not risking going naked under my galibea, so the galibea went over the top of everything. The white wig, beard and even eye brows were put on and we re-emerged from the toilets and walked through the Hilton to the car. Why residents of the hotel were stopping and staring I have no idea – haven’t they seen an angel and Merlin at the place before?!
So we arrive at the event. I have never been through the official main entrance to the People’s Palace before (the tourist entrance is on the side of the building). I never thought I would dressed as Merlin!!
As soon as we all walked in I knew this was a huge huge huge mistake. Everybody and I mean EVERYBODY, was in 1920s outfits. There was a 1920s band playing 1920s music. Everything was themed for the 1920s…….except the angel and Merlin. But it became evident that because Tibi was an angel everyone was assuming I was God!! This was just getting better and better.
You know when you just want to quietly slip away. When you have turned up to a fancy dress party and you are the only one in fancy dress. Or for whatever reason you feel that you stand out like a very sore thumb. Well multiply that 100 times and you get the idea how I felt. But because of that very reason of being unusual, we were the centre of attention. Photographers were taking photos, people were staring and I was dying. Also due to my insistence that I wear my normal clothes underneath I was melting. I swear that the core at Chernobyl did not reach the temperature experienced under my galibea. The waiters were bringing around champagne and I grabbed the biggest glass I could see on the tray – only to find that due to my voluminous beard I could not drink, or for that matter eat, at all. Great. This had really been well thought through!
Suddenly there was a bright light in my face and a microphone in front of me. This woman was jabbering away in Romania and then pointed the microphone at me. I am sure my expression conveyed the panic of an overheating embarrassed foreigner who just wanted to wake up and find this had been a terrible nightmare. But I did not wake up. However Laura did tell them that I was English. So she repeated her question in English – and what an incisive, important probing question it was:
“Can you tell us what shampoo you use?”
My answer was equal to the question:
“Why Head and Shoulders of course.”
That seemed to do the trick and she left me alone immediately obviously convinced that a British person who turns up to a 1920s event as God must have something wrong with them. And I tend to agree with the reporter from Antenna 1.
They called us all into dinner, in the main ballroom, and we were led in by the jazz band. I could see another TV crew lurking at the entrance and did my best to slip past them, but my best was not good enough. They stopped Tibi and I and Tibi explained that I was English and he was Romanian so they would have to do the interview in both languages. I hoped this would put them off but no, this reporter from Kanal D spoke English as well. She asked me quite a few questions but to be honest I don’t remember or wish to remember what I said. I know the questions were rather stupid and my answers were even worse. So as soon as possible I pushed through into the dining area to be met with the British ambassador on one side and the Prime Minister Calin Popescu-Tariceanu on the other. They smiled at me in that rather “who on earth are you” embarrassed way and I smiled back, not that they could tell because of the hair all over my face, and headed for the Hilton table. Thankfully Robin never even recognized me in my outfit and I have no intention of telling the ambassador that the idiot wearing the God outfit was me!
The rest of the evening went as painlessly as possible when you are seated at the Hilton table, right at the front of the room by the main stage and so the camera crews are there and you seem to be appearing all the time on the big video screens around the room. The other people on the table kept whispering:
“Andrew, you are on the screen again, don’t do anything embarrassing.” Like being dressed as God at a 1920 Halloween party was not embarrassing enough!!
To give you some idea of the calibre of people there and the amount of money sloshing about, there was an auction after the meal. This auction had quite a few items in it but of particular interest was a handbag donated by Uma Thurman and a necklace donated by Angelina Jolie. I should explain at this point that the charity this fundraising ball was for is called Ovidirom and was set up by Leslee Hawkes, the mother of Ethan Hawkes the actor. She now lives in Romania and set up this charity with the aim of getting every child in Romania into school and staying there until the 10th grade. At the moment nearly 50% drop out before the 10th grade and of the Roma (gypsy) children 90% drop out and only about 40% actually attend school. So all the money went to this charity.
After much bidding the python skin handbag from Uma went for 40,000 euros and Angelina’s necklace went for 50,000 euros. The funny thing was that the handbag went to someone who has just been released from prison after the corruption charges against him were dropped!
Following the auction there was the after party with two main acts on, neither of whom will be familiar to you at all but reasonably well known in Romania. The second act was a lady called Maria Radu. I met Maria for the first time a few months ago. Just as I was leaving one of the Perroni Parties with some friends she was arriving. So they all stopped to chat. As I had no idea who she was and they were all talking in Romanian, I stepped back and waited for them to finish. She kept looking over at me and eventually said something in Romanian to me.
“Oh this is Andrew, he is British” said Marius
Immediately Maria went into extremely good English and said:
“Nice to meet you Andrew. Come forward, don’t be embarrassed I don’t bite!” (This seemed a slightly unusual thing to say).
“Nice to meet you too” I said shaking her hand.
“Do you like Romania?” she asked
“I do. I have been here for nearly 15 months now and I think it is a lovely country”
“Oh you are living here then.”
“Yes, but I am leaving at the end of November”
“Sorry to hear that” she said “but that does mean that you can come to my concert next week. You must come”.
And before I could check what was coming out of my mouth I said:
“Oh do you sing?”
She looked slightly offended and immediately Marius leapt in and explained who Maria Radu was. Now I understood the “I don’t bite comment”. She thought I was awe struck being in the presence of such a mega star when in actual fact, as it became obvious, I had no idea who she was!
Anyway her concert was cancelled. But when she arrived at the Charity Halloween Ball she said she was pleased that at last I would get to hear her sing. I must admit that she was good. Although quite small she has a powerful voice. By the time she came on stage everyone was up and dancing by the stage including me (no, don’t worry I had dispensed with the wig, beard and gown by now and was in jeans and t-shirt). Maria sang “I will survive” and decided to get me to sing with her on the stage for a little bit. So the embarrassment continued right to the end!
Well I think I have gone on long enough now. But I just want to mention that the British Embassy had a Guy Fawkes Party on 5th November here with a big fireworks display. For some reason they decided to hold it at the Bucharest School for the Blind. An unusual location for a visual spectacular!
Hope you are all OK and I’ll be sending a last up date before I leave. Then when back in good old Blighty I will send out the final e-mail containing all the things I could not write while here! That should ensure they will never let me back in the country again!
Take care
Andrew.
Tuesday, 4 December 2007
Wednesday, 24 October 2007
Sausages and Sighisoara
Hi Everyone,
So following the extravaganza that was Lavinia and Horatiu's wedding, things quietened down. Iain Blackwood, Sue Riley and Gwyneth Venables got on with their work for the project - Iain and Sue reviewing the Training Strategy and Gwyneth looking at Performance Management in the Romanian Customs. See we really do work sometimes. Things returned to normal. And then I had an invitation by e-mail.
The invite was from an organisation that wants to promote locally produced food and drink and fight against the fast food culture that is seeping into Romania. One of the most celebrated foods in Romania is the Plescoi sausage (no jokes please, keep it clean).
The Plescoi sausages, named after the village where they are produced, are made out of a combination of half-dried, half smoked meats. So basically the meat is raw! Traditionally it is made from goats meat. So basically they are raw goats flesh sausages!! Mmmm, that got my mouth watering.
A sculptor, Adrian Ilfoveanu, had made a statue out of the sausages. It was called "Eve lived at Plescoi" and was on display at the Romanian Peasant Museum. (By the way, the peasant museum is not a place where you go to look at some very old Romanian Peasants, poke them with your finger, laugh at them and comment on how smelly they are. Virtually the whole of Romania outside of Bucharest is set aside for that!!) The museum celebrates the history and culture of the Romanian people. So it was a fitting place for them to launch the promotion of Romanian food and drink. But the statue was not only to "promote the food" but also celebrate the ladies who still hand make the sausages today. During the Communist era, the home-based production of food was forbidden and there were cases when the women (the "Eves") in Plescoi were sent to jail simply for preserving a tradition. So next to the sculpture was a photo gallery by Nicu Ilfoveanu (Adrian’s brother), on the same theme - “Eves of Plescoi” showing the faces of the women who make the sausages.
How could we turn down such an invitation. I mean, how often do you get to see a statue made out of sausages. For that matter how often do you want to see such a thing?! Anyway we went along - and what an evening it turned out to be.
Firstly the statue was impressive. I have no idea if Mr Ilfoveanu had actually used a model for it but either the model or his imagination had a few serious problems. The statue had no head, only one arm and half its leg missing. We did wonder if this was due to people hacking bits off because they were hungry, but it appeared that this was the intention of the sculptor. There was a passing resemblance to Dolly Parton (come on, the scultor was a Romanian man, what can you expect). Having looked at this for a few minutes and looked at the photos around the room for a couple more minutes, that seemed to be the extent of the whole event. It was only just 7.00pm so we decided to all go and have a meal. Then it was announced there was free sausages and free wine.
So we left the Peasants Museum around midnight!! It was amazing how the raw goats flesh sausages got tastier as the evening progressed. Just when we thought we really could not get away with having another bottle of free wine, the organiser of the event turned up at our table. He wanted to talk to us about what the event meant, about the symbolism of the sculpture and how all of us whoever we are can help promote and preserve local food. But he also brought with him some more bottles of wine! So we kept talking to him while he kept shouting for more wine for our table.
When I say talking, it was more like an arguement for some of the time. The organiser (I have no idea what his name was but let's call him Bogdan) was talking of the history of Romania and for some reason both Tony and Iain had decided that they knew Romanian history better than Bogdan. So they are correcting him and telling him he is wrong about dates etc. At one point Bogdan said:
"With the greatest respect I am Romanian. I know my country's history."
"But that happened in the early 1400s" said Tony not letting the point go.
"No, it was the early 1600s" said Bogdan.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes"
"Oh what's 200 years between friends?" said Tony and the dicussion continued.
Bogdan then asked if Sue would like to go for a walk. I think he felt she needed some fresh air because her eyes appeared to be revolving in different directions and her speech distinctly incoherent. It transpired that he did not think she needed some air, but instead needed his tongue down her throat! Once out of sight from us he launched at her. Sue, still being the polite British person, thanked him for the attention but said that really she should be getting back to her friends as they are waiting for her.
"You are speaking like a teenager" said Bogdan "saying your friends are waiting for you".
"No I really must go"
"But you have lips like velvet" he said in his best Romanian chat up voice.
"Now I really must get back" said Sue sobering up very quickly.
They rejoined us and despite numerous other attempts to lure Sue away, Bogdan had to accept that he would have to go home to his wife!
Following this "cultural extravaganza" Tony and I decided that we needed to experience some real Romanian culture, so we spent the weekend in Sighisoara. Now those of you who saw Michael Palin's Sunday evening programme will recall that he visited here. This is the problem - wherever I go others follow. I am such a trend setter! I really wanted Tony to see Sighisoara because it is a beautiful place and I had not been there since about 1988.
Founded by Transylvanian Saxons during the 12th century, Sighisoara is one of the most beautiful and best-preserved medieval towns in Europe. Designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, this perfectly intact 16th century town with nine towers, cobbled streets, burgher houses and ornate churches rivals the historic streets of Old Prague or Vienna for atmospheric magic. It is also the birthplace of Vlad Dracula, also known as Vlad Tepes (Vlad the Impaler), ruler of the province of Walachia from 1456 to 1462.
Its unique atmosphere and charm was somewhat undermined by the fact that the whole town's drainage system was being renovated while we were there. So most of the streets resembled the trenches from the Somme. Thankfully the weather was gorgeous while we were there, clean skies and constant sunshine. If it had rained I daren't think of the Glastonbury like mud bath that would have resulted.
Rather than driving up (car hire is surprisingly expensive in Romania) we decided to go by train. It takes around 5 hours. However bear in mind that this journey is part of the Bucuresti to Oradea service that takes a total of 11 hours. Last time we took a 5 hour train journey it cost us 60 lei each (about 12 pounds) - first class of course! This time, going first class again, it cost over 350 lei! Yes about 70 pounds! I had heard that the train prices had increased a lot but I had no idea that Richard Branson was now operating in Romania.
When we got on the train I had another shock - it was really nice! The seats were big and comfortable. They had a restaurant on board (admittedly it was at the other end of the train, we were in coach 25 and the restaurant in the first coach so it took half the 5 hour journey getting to and from it.) And it was exactly on time both going there and coming back. In fact it arrived back in Bucharest on the Sunday 15 minutes early. When you consider that the train had started in Oradea eleven and a half hours earlier and managed to arrive in Bucharest 15 minutes early I think that is not bad.
We took a little bit of a risk in booking our accommodation over the internet. It looked lovely on their website. When we arrived in Sighisoara it took us a little time to find it but when we did we found it even nicer than the site suggested! It was a quaint old place with huge rooms, lovely bathroom and everything done out beautifully. And for 20 pounds a night for the two of us it was incredibly good value.
Old Sighisoara is a walled town but is not very big. Armed with a map laying out the 12 main sights to see, Tony and I set off on a lovely Saturday morning at 11.00am. By 12.30 we had completed all 12 sights, having taken our time, sat and had a couple of chats, finished 5 crosswords, had lunch, assisted in laying 200 metres of drainage pipes and been for a nap. The place is very interesting, very beautiful but also very compact. This really left us with no alternative but to eat and drink through the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday.
On Sunday afternoon we were in the main square enjoying a snack and beer in the lovely autumnal sun, when onto a make shift stage came a Brass Band. It was like being back in Saddleworth (except this lot were quite good as compared to some really ropey bands like Boarshurst - and they were sober which is something else we never see in Saddleworth!). It did make for an extremely pleasant afternoon.
Sighisoara is well worth a visit. But as well as the town being lovely it sits in beautiful Transylvanian countryside. So a walking holiday would be perfect and would make the journey there worth while.
All too soon we were on the train trundling back to Bucuresti at break neck speed (35kph).
Must go now. I have to go and endure the comments from my Romanian colleagues that Romania have just qualified for Euro 2008 at the same time it looks like England will not. Don't for a moment think that they are gloating. Oh no. Gloating does not even go 1 centimetre towards describing their attitude. Glad the project finishes soon!!
Take care
Andrew.
So following the extravaganza that was Lavinia and Horatiu's wedding, things quietened down. Iain Blackwood, Sue Riley and Gwyneth Venables got on with their work for the project - Iain and Sue reviewing the Training Strategy and Gwyneth looking at Performance Management in the Romanian Customs. See we really do work sometimes. Things returned to normal. And then I had an invitation by e-mail.
The invite was from an organisation that wants to promote locally produced food and drink and fight against the fast food culture that is seeping into Romania. One of the most celebrated foods in Romania is the Plescoi sausage (no jokes please, keep it clean).
The Plescoi sausages, named after the village where they are produced, are made out of a combination of half-dried, half smoked meats. So basically the meat is raw! Traditionally it is made from goats meat. So basically they are raw goats flesh sausages!! Mmmm, that got my mouth watering.
A sculptor, Adrian Ilfoveanu, had made a statue out of the sausages. It was called "Eve lived at Plescoi" and was on display at the Romanian Peasant Museum. (By the way, the peasant museum is not a place where you go to look at some very old Romanian Peasants, poke them with your finger, laugh at them and comment on how smelly they are. Virtually the whole of Romania outside of Bucharest is set aside for that!!) The museum celebrates the history and culture of the Romanian people. So it was a fitting place for them to launch the promotion of Romanian food and drink. But the statue was not only to "promote the food" but also celebrate the ladies who still hand make the sausages today. During the Communist era, the home-based production of food was forbidden and there were cases when the women (the "Eves") in Plescoi were sent to jail simply for preserving a tradition. So next to the sculpture was a photo gallery by Nicu Ilfoveanu (Adrian’s brother), on the same theme - “Eves of Plescoi” showing the faces of the women who make the sausages.
How could we turn down such an invitation. I mean, how often do you get to see a statue made out of sausages. For that matter how often do you want to see such a thing?! Anyway we went along - and what an evening it turned out to be.
Firstly the statue was impressive. I have no idea if Mr Ilfoveanu had actually used a model for it but either the model or his imagination had a few serious problems. The statue had no head, only one arm and half its leg missing. We did wonder if this was due to people hacking bits off because they were hungry, but it appeared that this was the intention of the sculptor. There was a passing resemblance to Dolly Parton (come on, the scultor was a Romanian man, what can you expect). Having looked at this for a few minutes and looked at the photos around the room for a couple more minutes, that seemed to be the extent of the whole event. It was only just 7.00pm so we decided to all go and have a meal. Then it was announced there was free sausages and free wine.
So we left the Peasants Museum around midnight!! It was amazing how the raw goats flesh sausages got tastier as the evening progressed. Just when we thought we really could not get away with having another bottle of free wine, the organiser of the event turned up at our table. He wanted to talk to us about what the event meant, about the symbolism of the sculpture and how all of us whoever we are can help promote and preserve local food. But he also brought with him some more bottles of wine! So we kept talking to him while he kept shouting for more wine for our table.
When I say talking, it was more like an arguement for some of the time. The organiser (I have no idea what his name was but let's call him Bogdan) was talking of the history of Romania and for some reason both Tony and Iain had decided that they knew Romanian history better than Bogdan. So they are correcting him and telling him he is wrong about dates etc. At one point Bogdan said:
"With the greatest respect I am Romanian. I know my country's history."
"But that happened in the early 1400s" said Tony not letting the point go.
"No, it was the early 1600s" said Bogdan.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes"
"Oh what's 200 years between friends?" said Tony and the dicussion continued.
Bogdan then asked if Sue would like to go for a walk. I think he felt she needed some fresh air because her eyes appeared to be revolving in different directions and her speech distinctly incoherent. It transpired that he did not think she needed some air, but instead needed his tongue down her throat! Once out of sight from us he launched at her. Sue, still being the polite British person, thanked him for the attention but said that really she should be getting back to her friends as they are waiting for her.
"You are speaking like a teenager" said Bogdan "saying your friends are waiting for you".
"No I really must go"
"But you have lips like velvet" he said in his best Romanian chat up voice.
"Now I really must get back" said Sue sobering up very quickly.
They rejoined us and despite numerous other attempts to lure Sue away, Bogdan had to accept that he would have to go home to his wife!
Following this "cultural extravaganza" Tony and I decided that we needed to experience some real Romanian culture, so we spent the weekend in Sighisoara. Now those of you who saw Michael Palin's Sunday evening programme will recall that he visited here. This is the problem - wherever I go others follow. I am such a trend setter! I really wanted Tony to see Sighisoara because it is a beautiful place and I had not been there since about 1988.
Founded by Transylvanian Saxons during the 12th century, Sighisoara is one of the most beautiful and best-preserved medieval towns in Europe. Designated as a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, this perfectly intact 16th century town with nine towers, cobbled streets, burgher houses and ornate churches rivals the historic streets of Old Prague or Vienna for atmospheric magic. It is also the birthplace of Vlad Dracula, also known as Vlad Tepes (Vlad the Impaler), ruler of the province of Walachia from 1456 to 1462.
Its unique atmosphere and charm was somewhat undermined by the fact that the whole town's drainage system was being renovated while we were there. So most of the streets resembled the trenches from the Somme. Thankfully the weather was gorgeous while we were there, clean skies and constant sunshine. If it had rained I daren't think of the Glastonbury like mud bath that would have resulted.
Rather than driving up (car hire is surprisingly expensive in Romania) we decided to go by train. It takes around 5 hours. However bear in mind that this journey is part of the Bucuresti to Oradea service that takes a total of 11 hours. Last time we took a 5 hour train journey it cost us 60 lei each (about 12 pounds) - first class of course! This time, going first class again, it cost over 350 lei! Yes about 70 pounds! I had heard that the train prices had increased a lot but I had no idea that Richard Branson was now operating in Romania.
When we got on the train I had another shock - it was really nice! The seats were big and comfortable. They had a restaurant on board (admittedly it was at the other end of the train, we were in coach 25 and the restaurant in the first coach so it took half the 5 hour journey getting to and from it.) And it was exactly on time both going there and coming back. In fact it arrived back in Bucharest on the Sunday 15 minutes early. When you consider that the train had started in Oradea eleven and a half hours earlier and managed to arrive in Bucharest 15 minutes early I think that is not bad.
We took a little bit of a risk in booking our accommodation over the internet. It looked lovely on their website. When we arrived in Sighisoara it took us a little time to find it but when we did we found it even nicer than the site suggested! It was a quaint old place with huge rooms, lovely bathroom and everything done out beautifully. And for 20 pounds a night for the two of us it was incredibly good value.
Old Sighisoara is a walled town but is not very big. Armed with a map laying out the 12 main sights to see, Tony and I set off on a lovely Saturday morning at 11.00am. By 12.30 we had completed all 12 sights, having taken our time, sat and had a couple of chats, finished 5 crosswords, had lunch, assisted in laying 200 metres of drainage pipes and been for a nap. The place is very interesting, very beautiful but also very compact. This really left us with no alternative but to eat and drink through the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday.
On Sunday afternoon we were in the main square enjoying a snack and beer in the lovely autumnal sun, when onto a make shift stage came a Brass Band. It was like being back in Saddleworth (except this lot were quite good as compared to some really ropey bands like Boarshurst - and they were sober which is something else we never see in Saddleworth!). It did make for an extremely pleasant afternoon.
Sighisoara is well worth a visit. But as well as the town being lovely it sits in beautiful Transylvanian countryside. So a walking holiday would be perfect and would make the journey there worth while.
All too soon we were on the train trundling back to Bucuresti at break neck speed (35kph).
Must go now. I have to go and endure the comments from my Romanian colleagues that Romania have just qualified for Euro 2008 at the same time it looks like England will not. Don't for a moment think that they are gloating. Oh no. Gloating does not even go 1 centimetre towards describing their attitude. Glad the project finishes soon!!
Take care
Andrew.
Tuesday, 9 October 2007
Married in Dracula Country
Hi Everyone,
My assistant Lavinia is now religiously as well as legally married. As happens in almost every country except the UK, the legal and religious ceremonies are separate. So on July 28th Lavi and Horatiu were married legally in Cluj (northern Romania). However for Lavi it was the religious ceremony that really mattered. So we knew this was going to be a big event.
There were 4 of us from the UK going to the wedding. Tony flew over mid week. My boss while I am out here, the Project Manager Iain Blackwood was already here working for two weeks and Gwyneth Venables was going to start her work on the Monday after the wedding. Since the wedding was taking place in Bran, about 200kms north of Bucuresti, I decided the easiest way of getting there was driving. So I hired a car.
As you know I drove to the Black Sea coast earlier this summer so driving in Bucuresti holds no fear for me. Well actually it does. When we drove to Constanta we left about midday on the Friday when the traffic was light and relatively easy. On this occasion Gwyneth was arriving at Otopeni airport, north Bucuresti, at 5.50pm - slap bang in the middle of rush hour. The pick up point for the hire car was in the far west of the city. This meant I had to drive through the city during the Friday rush hour.
Of course this meant that everything was travelling at 3kph at most, so there should not have been a problem. However there are two things you need to appreciate about the Romanian drivers. Firstly if a road has two lanes there are five lanes of traffic. They are forever trying to get around each other. This leads to the second point, they must get ahead as fast and as soon as possible. So if one queue is moving ever so slightly faster than another they start swopping into it, Then swopping back because the other queue is now moving faster. Then they make a new line because nothing is moving fast enough. All this is done with their hands on the horn as part of the common Bucuresti symphony.
However not only did we arrive in Bran in one piece but also about 30 minutes sooner than expected. This was, of course, due to the excellent driving skills exhibited and had nothing to do with the fact that the traffic was lighter than we were expecting for a Friday evening (once we got outside of Bucuresti).
The guest house the four of us were staying in was also the scene of the Friday evening "supper". So we entered with the meal well underway. This was to set the scene for the rest of the weekend. It was a food orgy. There was pork snitzel, sort of egg and cheese omlettes rolled up and cut up, some vegetable fritter things, sarmale (minced pork rolled up in cabbage leaves), bread, cake, chocolate cakes, home produced wine and Lavi's mother.
Back in 1981 Mrs Cobrea gave birth to lovely little Lavinia. That very same evening she started baking in preparation for her daughters wedding 26 years later! I swear she has spent most of her life - and used most of the EU butter, flour, egg and pork mountains - for this wedding. If that night there had been a nuclear holocaust, history would have recorded that bizarrely 100 people survived for 37 years in a small place called Bran in central Romania and had an obesity problem by the end of that time too!
So we went to bed that night stuffed full of fried pork, egg, vegetables, minced pork in cabbage leaves, cake, chocolate and home made wine. It is amazing we survived the night never mind actually making it to the wedding the next day.
The wedding was at 3 in the afternoon so after a late lie in we heaved our groaning stomachs out of bed and had breakfast. Well, once you start eating you just have to keep going! Across the other side of Bran village we found somewhere that served breakfast. As is often the case in Romania breakfast means eggs in a variety of ways. So Iain, Gwyneth, Tony and I decided on a different egg dish each and coffee. The coffee came and we chatted. Another coffee and we continued chatting. The sun set, rose again, set again and rose again and then on our 237th coffee the eggs arrived. Well 3 of the dishes arrived. The waitress called out the first which Tony identified as his, then Iain identified his from her description and I heard mine. So poor Gwyneth was the one left out and although we did the decent thing of waiting she said we should start. Little did she know that the sun was to set and rise 3 more times before she would see her eggs. In the meantime after consuming about half of our dishes we began to realize that these were not what we had ordered. In fact it was what had been ordered, but we had each others dishes! Sure enough when Gwyneth’s food arrived it was Tony’s order. We are still not sure what menu the waitress was working off but I don’t think it was the one we saw!
As Tony has been to Dracula’s castle at least 3 times and I have a weekly pass to it we decided to miss the visit and wondered around the village. It is a beautiful place and was a lovely day – it is a shame that Bran is only known for its Dracula castle and that link to Vlad the Impailer is almost non existent.
But the time of the wedding was approaching. So we all got ready and walked over the where Lavinia and Horatiu would depart from for the church. We were told to be there as something would happen. This was to prove the start of a huge number of traditions and customs – some quaint, some a little strange and some down right bizarre. And this was a good example of the strange/bizarre aspect.
Lavinia came into the reception area with the various people who would be taking part in the ceremony/events of the day. She then put a little posy of flowers on each of them, including her husband to be. They then gave her a cake that she tore into pieces and threw into the air for people to catch. Strangely enough no one could tell me why she did this. Apparently it is a tradition but one now shrouded in mystery. I think Lavi was just having a laugh myself.
Once evryone had finished picking out the crumbs, raisins and pieces of icing from their hair following the gateaux chucking we all left for the church. It is a beautiful, small Romanian Orthodox church on the edge of the village. Behind it were the Carpathian mountains with the very tops of them now adorned with snow. It made an exquisite setting for the ceremony and photographs.
Inside the church, as is traditional, the walls are covered in paintings and icons, many covered in silver except for their faces. The rather dark interior added to the solemn atmosphere as did the constant aroma of the incense hanging in the air. The British contingent was one of the last to arrive so we slid in the back quietly, but Lavinia’s mother would have none of it. She gesticulated wildly to us to come right to the front where they had kept some space for us. There are no seats or pews in Romanian Orthodox churches, you have to stand throughout the services. In our position we could see absolutely everything that as going on and we were grateful because it was fascinating to watch all the ritual and customs.
It would take far too long to recount all that took place. The ceremony lasted about 45 minutes but was full of symbolism. They do not have bridesmaids and best man, but god parents. This must be a married couple and are usually the bride and groom’s best friends. It is a great privilege to be the god parents, a very important role with responsibilities that continue long after the ceremony. The bride and groom don’t exchange rings, they come into the church wearing their new wedding rings on their right hands. The god mother takes the ring off the right hand and moves it to the left hand of the bride and the god father does the same thing for the groom. At another point in the ceremony the bride and groom wear silver crowns and all the wedding party (bride, groom, god parents and priest) all join hands and walk around the altar 3 times all of them kissing the silver covered Bible on each circuit. Everyone then forms a conger line while the bride and grrom's family do the hoky coky. (I might have made up that last sentence.) Right at the end, when the official documents are being signed the bride and groom’s mothers came around giving out chocolates (this is an excellent tradition which I think we should adopt). Everyone crowds around and congratulates the married couple, then when leaving the church there is wine (home produced again) and cake (produced by Lavi’s mother of course). This is another tradition I think we should adopt immediately!
Following the ceremony we all went off to the reception at the hotel where Lavi began the day throwing cake all over the place. In many respects the reception was similar to what we would be familiar with, except for a few points.
The happy couple had hired a band to play, a traditional folk band. For those of you who remember my previous e-mails and who have been over here will know what I mean when I say it was Etno live! The lady who sang had the obligatory year’s output of Max Factor make up on her face. She also had a traditional outfit on which I am sure fitted her 20 years ago but was now under severe strain. In fact during the evening a couple of buttons on her blouse did fly off and embed themselves on the wall and in the forehead of Lavi’s uncle. This did prompt a costume change which transformed her into a rather frightening drag queen.
In all Romanian weddings it is traditional to kidnap the bride. At some point during the festivities the bride is abducted and the groom must do something, usually perform an embarrassing forfeit or pay money, to get her released. Sure enough the announcement went out during the reception that Lavi had been kidnapped. It took two hours for the cheering and celebration to die down the party continued and eventually Horatiu went to bed! It really was quite a cold night for Lavi to remain tied to an effigy of Count Dracula in the middle of Bran until 3 in the morning wearing just a thong and nipple tassles. OK, back to what really happened. Actually the “price” he had to pay for her release was quite clever. They blindfolded him and then brought in 4 girls to kiss him. If he identified his wife he would release her from her captivity. Thankfully the man they put in the middle of the 4 girls did not confuse Horatiu, although the stubble nearly fooled him into thinking it was her. Of course he immediately identified his bride, much to the disappointment of us all.
In establishing a new tradition, the groom was also kidnapped! His Friends abducted him and he was detained by a group of ladies in a secret location. Initially a 1.1 million euro ransom was demanded. This happened to be exactly the budget of our Twinning Project. So I was called in to provide the money. Naturally I could not do this, but suggested instead that if Lavi agreed to abide by some rules Horatiu would be released. Those rules came from the Good Housekeeping Manual from 1955. They contained such things as:
- Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return from work.
- Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make up. Put in ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking.
- Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
- Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. Instead try to understand his world of strain and pressure.
- Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.
- Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember he is the master of the house. You have no right to question him.
- A good wife always knows her place.
They brought in a disheveled Horatiu with his clothes all over the place and lipstick all over his face. I then read out the demands, which Diana, Laura, Roxi and Anca (all translators who have worked with us) translated into Romanian. Very reluctantly Lavi agreed to each and Horatiu was released, along with an 8 euro ransom!
We went to bed around 2am having danced, drank and generally had a great time.
The next morning breakfast was courtesy of Lavinia’s mother again. Yes the cheese, meat, sausages and tomatoes came out but so did the sarmale (minced pork in cabbage leaves) and the ubiquitous home made cake. Tony managed a cup of coffee and some water! Iain, Gwyneth and I attempted the full range with varying success. After the indulgences of the night before that variety of food did not sit easily on the stomach. In fact if Tony had eaten some of it I don’t think it would have remained at all in his stomach!!
However we had a fantastic journey home through some spectacular scenery. The road from Bran to Pitesti goes right through the mountains and although very twisty (that tested all our stomachs!) was well worth it because it was stunningly beautiful.
So the wedding weekend came to an end. All I can say is that I know how much work and effort Lavinia, Horatiu and their families put into it, not to mention the colleagues from the project (Roxanna, Gill and Tony). And it was so worth it. A great weekend. And I hope Lavi and Horatiu will have a long and happy marriage.
All the best. I'll be in touch again soon - this time about a statue of a naked lady made of sausages! bet you can't wait.
Andrew.
My assistant Lavinia is now religiously as well as legally married. As happens in almost every country except the UK, the legal and religious ceremonies are separate. So on July 28th Lavi and Horatiu were married legally in Cluj (northern Romania). However for Lavi it was the religious ceremony that really mattered. So we knew this was going to be a big event.
There were 4 of us from the UK going to the wedding. Tony flew over mid week. My boss while I am out here, the Project Manager Iain Blackwood was already here working for two weeks and Gwyneth Venables was going to start her work on the Monday after the wedding. Since the wedding was taking place in Bran, about 200kms north of Bucuresti, I decided the easiest way of getting there was driving. So I hired a car.
As you know I drove to the Black Sea coast earlier this summer so driving in Bucuresti holds no fear for me. Well actually it does. When we drove to Constanta we left about midday on the Friday when the traffic was light and relatively easy. On this occasion Gwyneth was arriving at Otopeni airport, north Bucuresti, at 5.50pm - slap bang in the middle of rush hour. The pick up point for the hire car was in the far west of the city. This meant I had to drive through the city during the Friday rush hour.
Of course this meant that everything was travelling at 3kph at most, so there should not have been a problem. However there are two things you need to appreciate about the Romanian drivers. Firstly if a road has two lanes there are five lanes of traffic. They are forever trying to get around each other. This leads to the second point, they must get ahead as fast and as soon as possible. So if one queue is moving ever so slightly faster than another they start swopping into it, Then swopping back because the other queue is now moving faster. Then they make a new line because nothing is moving fast enough. All this is done with their hands on the horn as part of the common Bucuresti symphony.
However not only did we arrive in Bran in one piece but also about 30 minutes sooner than expected. This was, of course, due to the excellent driving skills exhibited and had nothing to do with the fact that the traffic was lighter than we were expecting for a Friday evening (once we got outside of Bucuresti).
The guest house the four of us were staying in was also the scene of the Friday evening "supper". So we entered with the meal well underway. This was to set the scene for the rest of the weekend. It was a food orgy. There was pork snitzel, sort of egg and cheese omlettes rolled up and cut up, some vegetable fritter things, sarmale (minced pork rolled up in cabbage leaves), bread, cake, chocolate cakes, home produced wine and Lavi's mother.
Back in 1981 Mrs Cobrea gave birth to lovely little Lavinia. That very same evening she started baking in preparation for her daughters wedding 26 years later! I swear she has spent most of her life - and used most of the EU butter, flour, egg and pork mountains - for this wedding. If that night there had been a nuclear holocaust, history would have recorded that bizarrely 100 people survived for 37 years in a small place called Bran in central Romania and had an obesity problem by the end of that time too!
So we went to bed that night stuffed full of fried pork, egg, vegetables, minced pork in cabbage leaves, cake, chocolate and home made wine. It is amazing we survived the night never mind actually making it to the wedding the next day.
The wedding was at 3 in the afternoon so after a late lie in we heaved our groaning stomachs out of bed and had breakfast. Well, once you start eating you just have to keep going! Across the other side of Bran village we found somewhere that served breakfast. As is often the case in Romania breakfast means eggs in a variety of ways. So Iain, Gwyneth, Tony and I decided on a different egg dish each and coffee. The coffee came and we chatted. Another coffee and we continued chatting. The sun set, rose again, set again and rose again and then on our 237th coffee the eggs arrived. Well 3 of the dishes arrived. The waitress called out the first which Tony identified as his, then Iain identified his from her description and I heard mine. So poor Gwyneth was the one left out and although we did the decent thing of waiting she said we should start. Little did she know that the sun was to set and rise 3 more times before she would see her eggs. In the meantime after consuming about half of our dishes we began to realize that these were not what we had ordered. In fact it was what had been ordered, but we had each others dishes! Sure enough when Gwyneth’s food arrived it was Tony’s order. We are still not sure what menu the waitress was working off but I don’t think it was the one we saw!
As Tony has been to Dracula’s castle at least 3 times and I have a weekly pass to it we decided to miss the visit and wondered around the village. It is a beautiful place and was a lovely day – it is a shame that Bran is only known for its Dracula castle and that link to Vlad the Impailer is almost non existent.
But the time of the wedding was approaching. So we all got ready and walked over the where Lavinia and Horatiu would depart from for the church. We were told to be there as something would happen. This was to prove the start of a huge number of traditions and customs – some quaint, some a little strange and some down right bizarre. And this was a good example of the strange/bizarre aspect.
Lavinia came into the reception area with the various people who would be taking part in the ceremony/events of the day. She then put a little posy of flowers on each of them, including her husband to be. They then gave her a cake that she tore into pieces and threw into the air for people to catch. Strangely enough no one could tell me why she did this. Apparently it is a tradition but one now shrouded in mystery. I think Lavi was just having a laugh myself.
Once evryone had finished picking out the crumbs, raisins and pieces of icing from their hair following the gateaux chucking we all left for the church. It is a beautiful, small Romanian Orthodox church on the edge of the village. Behind it were the Carpathian mountains with the very tops of them now adorned with snow. It made an exquisite setting for the ceremony and photographs.
Inside the church, as is traditional, the walls are covered in paintings and icons, many covered in silver except for their faces. The rather dark interior added to the solemn atmosphere as did the constant aroma of the incense hanging in the air. The British contingent was one of the last to arrive so we slid in the back quietly, but Lavinia’s mother would have none of it. She gesticulated wildly to us to come right to the front where they had kept some space for us. There are no seats or pews in Romanian Orthodox churches, you have to stand throughout the services. In our position we could see absolutely everything that as going on and we were grateful because it was fascinating to watch all the ritual and customs.
It would take far too long to recount all that took place. The ceremony lasted about 45 minutes but was full of symbolism. They do not have bridesmaids and best man, but god parents. This must be a married couple and are usually the bride and groom’s best friends. It is a great privilege to be the god parents, a very important role with responsibilities that continue long after the ceremony. The bride and groom don’t exchange rings, they come into the church wearing their new wedding rings on their right hands. The god mother takes the ring off the right hand and moves it to the left hand of the bride and the god father does the same thing for the groom. At another point in the ceremony the bride and groom wear silver crowns and all the wedding party (bride, groom, god parents and priest) all join hands and walk around the altar 3 times all of them kissing the silver covered Bible on each circuit. Everyone then forms a conger line while the bride and grrom's family do the hoky coky. (I might have made up that last sentence.) Right at the end, when the official documents are being signed the bride and groom’s mothers came around giving out chocolates (this is an excellent tradition which I think we should adopt). Everyone crowds around and congratulates the married couple, then when leaving the church there is wine (home produced again) and cake (produced by Lavi’s mother of course). This is another tradition I think we should adopt immediately!
Following the ceremony we all went off to the reception at the hotel where Lavi began the day throwing cake all over the place. In many respects the reception was similar to what we would be familiar with, except for a few points.
The happy couple had hired a band to play, a traditional folk band. For those of you who remember my previous e-mails and who have been over here will know what I mean when I say it was Etno live! The lady who sang had the obligatory year’s output of Max Factor make up on her face. She also had a traditional outfit on which I am sure fitted her 20 years ago but was now under severe strain. In fact during the evening a couple of buttons on her blouse did fly off and embed themselves on the wall and in the forehead of Lavi’s uncle. This did prompt a costume change which transformed her into a rather frightening drag queen.
In all Romanian weddings it is traditional to kidnap the bride. At some point during the festivities the bride is abducted and the groom must do something, usually perform an embarrassing forfeit or pay money, to get her released. Sure enough the announcement went out during the reception that Lavi had been kidnapped. It took two hours for the cheering and celebration to die down the party continued and eventually Horatiu went to bed! It really was quite a cold night for Lavi to remain tied to an effigy of Count Dracula in the middle of Bran until 3 in the morning wearing just a thong and nipple tassles. OK, back to what really happened. Actually the “price” he had to pay for her release was quite clever. They blindfolded him and then brought in 4 girls to kiss him. If he identified his wife he would release her from her captivity. Thankfully the man they put in the middle of the 4 girls did not confuse Horatiu, although the stubble nearly fooled him into thinking it was her. Of course he immediately identified his bride, much to the disappointment of us all.
In establishing a new tradition, the groom was also kidnapped! His Friends abducted him and he was detained by a group of ladies in a secret location. Initially a 1.1 million euro ransom was demanded. This happened to be exactly the budget of our Twinning Project. So I was called in to provide the money. Naturally I could not do this, but suggested instead that if Lavi agreed to abide by some rules Horatiu would be released. Those rules came from the Good Housekeeping Manual from 1955. They contained such things as:
- Have dinner ready. Plan ahead, even the night before to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return from work.
- Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make up. Put in ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking.
- Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember his topics of conversation are more important than yours.
- Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. Instead try to understand his world of strain and pressure.
- Don't complain if he's late home for dinner or even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor compared to what he might have gone through that day.
- Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember he is the master of the house. You have no right to question him.
- A good wife always knows her place.
They brought in a disheveled Horatiu with his clothes all over the place and lipstick all over his face. I then read out the demands, which Diana, Laura, Roxi and Anca (all translators who have worked with us) translated into Romanian. Very reluctantly Lavi agreed to each and Horatiu was released, along with an 8 euro ransom!
We went to bed around 2am having danced, drank and generally had a great time.
The next morning breakfast was courtesy of Lavinia’s mother again. Yes the cheese, meat, sausages and tomatoes came out but so did the sarmale (minced pork in cabbage leaves) and the ubiquitous home made cake. Tony managed a cup of coffee and some water! Iain, Gwyneth and I attempted the full range with varying success. After the indulgences of the night before that variety of food did not sit easily on the stomach. In fact if Tony had eaten some of it I don’t think it would have remained at all in his stomach!!
However we had a fantastic journey home through some spectacular scenery. The road from Bran to Pitesti goes right through the mountains and although very twisty (that tested all our stomachs!) was well worth it because it was stunningly beautiful.
So the wedding weekend came to an end. All I can say is that I know how much work and effort Lavinia, Horatiu and their families put into it, not to mention the colleagues from the project (Roxanna, Gill and Tony). And it was so worth it. A great weekend. And I hope Lavi and Horatiu will have a long and happy marriage.
All the best. I'll be in touch again soon - this time about a statue of a naked lady made of sausages! bet you can't wait.
Andrew.
Tuesday, 11 September 2007
It's only been 17 months
Hi Everyone,
Having been in Romania for 17 months now (can you believe it??) my linguistic ability in the local language is, of course, extensive. I can confidently say that I am effluent in Romanian! As I walked to the office a couple of days ago, a man walked up to me and spouted a load of words that I did not understand at all. I have learned that if you say "Poftim?" (pardon) they just repeat the same thing at the same speed and you are left with the same blank look on your face. So I replied: "Imi pare rau, nu spune Romaneste." which means "I'm sorry but I don't speak Romanian". This time it was the turn of the person speaking to me to have a blank look on their face. He just stared at me! So I walked away thinking that he is probably puzzled as to why I had said I don't speak Romanian, in Romanian! However in the office I did check out with Lavi and Diana that I had got it right. Of course I hadn't. "Nu vorbesc" means I don't speak, "Nu spune" means I don't talk. So with my bad pronounciation and wrong words I had managed to say to him:
"I'm sorry I don't speak to Romanians"!!
I have decided that this is an excellent sentence to remember and to use as often as possible.
But you know what they say about speaking another language - make an attempt and people will appreciate it. You don't have to get it exactly right, people still understand what you mean and will be pleased you are trying. Well tell my taxi driver that. I got into a taxi and said:
"Maria Rosetti saispre varog" (Maria Rosetti number 16 please) I was getting a taxi home.
"Poftim?" (pardon) says taxi driver
"Maria Rosetti saispre" (Maria Rosetti 16)
"Saispre?" (16)
"Da saispre" (yes 16)
"You mean 16 one six?" he asks in English
"Yes" I said in English.
"Si atunci mergem Plaza Romania" (And then we go to Plaza Romania) I said as I wanted to drop my bag off quickly at home and then go to the shopping centre called Plaza Romania.
"Ce?" (What?) says thetaxi driving frowning
"Si atunci mergem Plaza Romania" (And then we will go to Plaza Romania)
"Oh just say it in English" he says quite sternly and in English
"I then want to go to Plaza Romania"
"Oh, that's what you were trying to say" and off he drove.
So there was the friendly, happy you are making an effort, really encouraging attitude you expect when trying to speak an impossible language such as Romanian.
However the whole situation has been redeemed by ING Bank - they are a Dutch bank that have a big presence in Romania and I have a Romanian Lei and Euros account with them. I needed to go to their main office to speak with them so in I went and did my usual:
"Buna ziua, vorbiti englezeste?" (Good day, do you speak English?)
"Da" said the lady, "De ce?" (Yes, why?)
"Because it makes my life a lot easier" I said in English.
"Oh" she said in English, "I thought you were Romanian. Your accent is very good".
Now THAT is the way to do it. She may have been lying through her teeth and patronising me like anything but I don't care - she made me feel really good. Look, listen and learn taxi drivers!!!
So here's a quick Romanian language lesson, just to help you understand why:
a) I have an interpreter
b) I have made slow progress with learning the language
c) Romania and Moldova are the only places in the world that speak this language
d) everyone wants to speak English
If you want to say a coffee, it is "o cafea".
If you want to say the coffee, it is "cafeaua"
If you want to say the coffees, it is "cafelele" (I'm sure this is the name of the President of Rwanda)
If you want to say of the coffees, it is "cafelelor"
Cafea is feminine, but of course masculine nouns have a whole set of different endings and again different for neuter words. How do you know if a word is masculine,feminine or neuter? There are some general rules but naturally there are also hundreds of exceptions. So for an English speaker it is utter guesswork most of the time. Like in many other languages the adjectives have different endings which follow the nouns (with exceptions of course) and the verbs not only have different endings depending on who is speaking but also the whole word can be different! For example the Romanian for "to take" is "a lua".
I take - iau
you take - iei
he/she takes - ia
we take - luam
you take - luati
they take - iau
Just try to make sense out of that. No wonder they find English easy to learn (but horrible to spell!!).
Within Romanian society there is one group of people who are the lowest of the low. Everyone looks down on them. No, they are not Scoucers (although that’s very close) and nor are they people from Middlesborough (known to the rest of us as Geordies). The real Romanian underclass are the gypsies. They face genuine and aggressive discrimination. Everything is blamed on them, from AIDS to the very hot summer Romania has been experiencing. Their music, called Manele, is hated and seen as very common and uncultured. Yet you will hear this music at every wedding and inevitably it is being played by a gypsy band. Those gypsies that make a lot of money and are rich show it off in extravagant ways, such as huge very ornate houses that they don’t live in. The house is empty inside, it is purely for show. The family will live in a small house at the side.
Before coming to Romania I worked in the Equality and Diversity Team in Customs. So as most of you know I am committed to these principles – except regarding women of course. They should stay at home and look after their husband. If they don’t have a husband then they should spend all their time looking for one. But except for women – oh and Scoucers of course and anyone living south of Watford and particularly those who live in London thinking it is the centre of the universe and all taxi drivers and men with hairy backs and it goes without saying ALL the French – except for those few exceptions I am committed to equality and diversity.
Anyway I have tried not to join in the Romanian sport of Gypsy blaming and hating. This week however I saw something that simply amazed me. I had heard about it, but never seen it before. Most of the flower sellers on the streets in Bucharest are gypsy women (the men stay at home, drink together and wait for their women to come home to make their dinner). I would advise anyone visiting Bucharest not to buy from these street sellers. I am sorry to say they will rip you off. I have experienced it and every non Romanian I know has had similar experiences.
The local mayor of sector 3 of Bucharest decided that he did not want the pavements of his sector cluttered by the flower sellers. So he passed a local law saying they must have permanent cabins to work from that are not on the street (in other words they must have a shop). This sparked a riot on the streets. Literally. The gypsy women went mad. Now I had been told that they are very emotional and theatrical people. That is an understatement.
Firstly, the noise is incredible. They don’t just shout, they scream very very loudly. They wail at the top of their voices. There must have been about 50 women (the men were still at home drinking and getting hungry!) ALL shouting screaming and wailing at the same time that their livelihood was ruined that they would starve, their children would die etc etc. Then they started fainting and falling to the ground, well throwing themselves to the ground would be more accurate. Every time this happened people would rush to them and there would be even more shouting and wailing.
Then the Police and medical services arrived. This was when it just went utterly crazy. A nurse went to look at one of the collapsed women and while she was doing that she was being shouted at by many of the other women. She decided to get her into the ambulance to treat her and get away from the crowd. Exactly what the gyspy women thought was happening I do not know but they tried to stop her. The police intervened causing more screaming and wailing. The women wanted to “rescue” their compatriot from the ambulance, so they started using their children to hit the policemen! Yes, that’s right, they picked up their children and used them as weapons to hit the police!! I could not believe my eyes. As the children were being swung around by their mothers so the kids were also kicking out, punching and biting. It was unbelievable. By doing this the gypsy women managed to get to the ambulance, get the door open and one person went inside, grabbed the stricken woman who was lying down attached to some form of drip and pulled her out of the ambulance, dragging the drip equipment behind them. They carried her off somewhere, the police tried to secure the ambulance, the medical staff decided they had had enough (understandably) and drove off as soon as they could and the police backed off leaving the women to shout, scream and wail themselves to exhaustion. Quite unbelievable.
I have noticed within Bucharest that things are changing slowly. The effects of EU membership are beginning to be seen. For example on the street opposite my office window is a snitzel shop. All they sell there are chicken or pork snitzels to take away. The other side of the street is a small bakery producing a variety of savoury and sweet pastries. At the beginning of August the bakery closed – not usual for a shop to shut for the summer holidays. But then a notice went up saying it had been closed by Health and Safety. This is about the fourth shop I have seen in the past couple of weeks that has been shut down like this, not to mention a couple of restaurants. On the news you frequently see items about how some traditional activity or every day occurrence is being stopped because of new regulations. Yes, soon they will not be able to buy bent bananas etc!
But the real shock for the Bucharest drivers is that the Romanian Authorities have discovered bollards!! Yes all over the city these metal pillars are springing up on the pavements. This is infuriating the drivers because of course the pavements are for parking on. In some cases the cars have simply run over the plastic bollards, flattening them to the ground and parked there. So now the metal ones are appearing. Already I have seen outside the Howard Johnson hotel near Piata Romana that some of these bollards have been hacked away so the cars can park where obviously they have Divine right to park!
In a public survey last week 62% of Romanians interviewed said that their main concern at the moment was the level of wages/pensions (being too low of course!). 27% said their concern was the level of public services and the third concern trailing far behind on just 7% was corruption. As part of this project is tackling corruption I found that interesting. The level of concern about corruption in a country notorious for it is surprisingly low. This seems to be because the public hates corruption in the Government- so ministers taking bribes or official projects (such as the construction of the Bucharest Constanta motorway leaking huge amounts of money) is corruption. But the everyday low level bribery is not seen as corruption but just a way of getting things done.
So a Romanian friend of mine has a sister who decided she wanted to get a job in Information Technology (this is where they think the big money is.) She bought a computer, not a full price one of course but one “that fell off the back of a lorry”, and enrolled on a course (ECDL). Unfortunately she seems to have been last in the queue when they were handing out common sense and brains. After a couple of weeks she decided it was too difficult and so paid the tutor about 100 euros to get her qualification. Rather worrying she did exactly the same thing for her driving licence. Yes, that’s right. She did not take any lessons to learn how to drive. She did not pass any tests. She simply paid an official for a driving licence!! Of course this explains why the driving in Bucharest is nearly suicidal and so chaotic. But also it is genuinely worrying that both members of the public and officials are quite happy to use bribery without thinking of the very real consequences (never mind all the ethical arguments).
Well, this Saturday is Lavinia's wedding. She is getting married in Bran (where Dracula's castle is...mmm seems fitting that she should chose there, poor Horatiu her victim, sorry husband to be!!!) So I shall report back with all the details about a traditional Romanian wedding. If I remember any of it!
Take care.
Andrew.
Having been in Romania for 17 months now (can you believe it??) my linguistic ability in the local language is, of course, extensive. I can confidently say that I am effluent in Romanian! As I walked to the office a couple of days ago, a man walked up to me and spouted a load of words that I did not understand at all. I have learned that if you say "Poftim?" (pardon) they just repeat the same thing at the same speed and you are left with the same blank look on your face. So I replied: "Imi pare rau, nu spune Romaneste." which means "I'm sorry but I don't speak Romanian". This time it was the turn of the person speaking to me to have a blank look on their face. He just stared at me! So I walked away thinking that he is probably puzzled as to why I had said I don't speak Romanian, in Romanian! However in the office I did check out with Lavi and Diana that I had got it right. Of course I hadn't. "Nu vorbesc" means I don't speak, "Nu spune" means I don't talk. So with my bad pronounciation and wrong words I had managed to say to him:
"I'm sorry I don't speak to Romanians"!!
I have decided that this is an excellent sentence to remember and to use as often as possible.
But you know what they say about speaking another language - make an attempt and people will appreciate it. You don't have to get it exactly right, people still understand what you mean and will be pleased you are trying. Well tell my taxi driver that. I got into a taxi and said:
"Maria Rosetti saispre varog" (Maria Rosetti number 16 please) I was getting a taxi home.
"Poftim?" (pardon) says taxi driver
"Maria Rosetti saispre" (Maria Rosetti 16)
"Saispre?" (16)
"Da saispre" (yes 16)
"You mean 16 one six?" he asks in English
"Yes" I said in English.
"Si atunci mergem Plaza Romania" (And then we go to Plaza Romania) I said as I wanted to drop my bag off quickly at home and then go to the shopping centre called Plaza Romania.
"Ce?" (What?) says thetaxi driving frowning
"Si atunci mergem Plaza Romania" (And then we will go to Plaza Romania)
"Oh just say it in English" he says quite sternly and in English
"I then want to go to Plaza Romania"
"Oh, that's what you were trying to say" and off he drove.
So there was the friendly, happy you are making an effort, really encouraging attitude you expect when trying to speak an impossible language such as Romanian.
However the whole situation has been redeemed by ING Bank - they are a Dutch bank that have a big presence in Romania and I have a Romanian Lei and Euros account with them. I needed to go to their main office to speak with them so in I went and did my usual:
"Buna ziua, vorbiti englezeste?" (Good day, do you speak English?)
"Da" said the lady, "De ce?" (Yes, why?)
"Because it makes my life a lot easier" I said in English.
"Oh" she said in English, "I thought you were Romanian. Your accent is very good".
Now THAT is the way to do it. She may have been lying through her teeth and patronising me like anything but I don't care - she made me feel really good. Look, listen and learn taxi drivers!!!
So here's a quick Romanian language lesson, just to help you understand why:
a) I have an interpreter
b) I have made slow progress with learning the language
c) Romania and Moldova are the only places in the world that speak this language
d) everyone wants to speak English
If you want to say a coffee, it is "o cafea".
If you want to say the coffee, it is "cafeaua"
If you want to say the coffees, it is "cafelele" (I'm sure this is the name of the President of Rwanda)
If you want to say of the coffees, it is "cafelelor"
Cafea is feminine, but of course masculine nouns have a whole set of different endings and again different for neuter words. How do you know if a word is masculine,feminine or neuter? There are some general rules but naturally there are also hundreds of exceptions. So for an English speaker it is utter guesswork most of the time. Like in many other languages the adjectives have different endings which follow the nouns (with exceptions of course) and the verbs not only have different endings depending on who is speaking but also the whole word can be different! For example the Romanian for "to take" is "a lua".
I take - iau
you take - iei
he/she takes - ia
we take - luam
you take - luati
they take - iau
Just try to make sense out of that. No wonder they find English easy to learn (but horrible to spell!!).
Within Romanian society there is one group of people who are the lowest of the low. Everyone looks down on them. No, they are not Scoucers (although that’s very close) and nor are they people from Middlesborough (known to the rest of us as Geordies). The real Romanian underclass are the gypsies. They face genuine and aggressive discrimination. Everything is blamed on them, from AIDS to the very hot summer Romania has been experiencing. Their music, called Manele, is hated and seen as very common and uncultured. Yet you will hear this music at every wedding and inevitably it is being played by a gypsy band. Those gypsies that make a lot of money and are rich show it off in extravagant ways, such as huge very ornate houses that they don’t live in. The house is empty inside, it is purely for show. The family will live in a small house at the side.
Before coming to Romania I worked in the Equality and Diversity Team in Customs. So as most of you know I am committed to these principles – except regarding women of course. They should stay at home and look after their husband. If they don’t have a husband then they should spend all their time looking for one. But except for women – oh and Scoucers of course and anyone living south of Watford and particularly those who live in London thinking it is the centre of the universe and all taxi drivers and men with hairy backs and it goes without saying ALL the French – except for those few exceptions I am committed to equality and diversity.
Anyway I have tried not to join in the Romanian sport of Gypsy blaming and hating. This week however I saw something that simply amazed me. I had heard about it, but never seen it before. Most of the flower sellers on the streets in Bucharest are gypsy women (the men stay at home, drink together and wait for their women to come home to make their dinner). I would advise anyone visiting Bucharest not to buy from these street sellers. I am sorry to say they will rip you off. I have experienced it and every non Romanian I know has had similar experiences.
The local mayor of sector 3 of Bucharest decided that he did not want the pavements of his sector cluttered by the flower sellers. So he passed a local law saying they must have permanent cabins to work from that are not on the street (in other words they must have a shop). This sparked a riot on the streets. Literally. The gypsy women went mad. Now I had been told that they are very emotional and theatrical people. That is an understatement.
Firstly, the noise is incredible. They don’t just shout, they scream very very loudly. They wail at the top of their voices. There must have been about 50 women (the men were still at home drinking and getting hungry!) ALL shouting screaming and wailing at the same time that their livelihood was ruined that they would starve, their children would die etc etc. Then they started fainting and falling to the ground, well throwing themselves to the ground would be more accurate. Every time this happened people would rush to them and there would be even more shouting and wailing.
Then the Police and medical services arrived. This was when it just went utterly crazy. A nurse went to look at one of the collapsed women and while she was doing that she was being shouted at by many of the other women. She decided to get her into the ambulance to treat her and get away from the crowd. Exactly what the gyspy women thought was happening I do not know but they tried to stop her. The police intervened causing more screaming and wailing. The women wanted to “rescue” their compatriot from the ambulance, so they started using their children to hit the policemen! Yes, that’s right, they picked up their children and used them as weapons to hit the police!! I could not believe my eyes. As the children were being swung around by their mothers so the kids were also kicking out, punching and biting. It was unbelievable. By doing this the gypsy women managed to get to the ambulance, get the door open and one person went inside, grabbed the stricken woman who was lying down attached to some form of drip and pulled her out of the ambulance, dragging the drip equipment behind them. They carried her off somewhere, the police tried to secure the ambulance, the medical staff decided they had had enough (understandably) and drove off as soon as they could and the police backed off leaving the women to shout, scream and wail themselves to exhaustion. Quite unbelievable.
I have noticed within Bucharest that things are changing slowly. The effects of EU membership are beginning to be seen. For example on the street opposite my office window is a snitzel shop. All they sell there are chicken or pork snitzels to take away. The other side of the street is a small bakery producing a variety of savoury and sweet pastries. At the beginning of August the bakery closed – not usual for a shop to shut for the summer holidays. But then a notice went up saying it had been closed by Health and Safety. This is about the fourth shop I have seen in the past couple of weeks that has been shut down like this, not to mention a couple of restaurants. On the news you frequently see items about how some traditional activity or every day occurrence is being stopped because of new regulations. Yes, soon they will not be able to buy bent bananas etc!
But the real shock for the Bucharest drivers is that the Romanian Authorities have discovered bollards!! Yes all over the city these metal pillars are springing up on the pavements. This is infuriating the drivers because of course the pavements are for parking on. In some cases the cars have simply run over the plastic bollards, flattening them to the ground and parked there. So now the metal ones are appearing. Already I have seen outside the Howard Johnson hotel near Piata Romana that some of these bollards have been hacked away so the cars can park where obviously they have Divine right to park!
In a public survey last week 62% of Romanians interviewed said that their main concern at the moment was the level of wages/pensions (being too low of course!). 27% said their concern was the level of public services and the third concern trailing far behind on just 7% was corruption. As part of this project is tackling corruption I found that interesting. The level of concern about corruption in a country notorious for it is surprisingly low. This seems to be because the public hates corruption in the Government- so ministers taking bribes or official projects (such as the construction of the Bucharest Constanta motorway leaking huge amounts of money) is corruption. But the everyday low level bribery is not seen as corruption but just a way of getting things done.
So a Romanian friend of mine has a sister who decided she wanted to get a job in Information Technology (this is where they think the big money is.) She bought a computer, not a full price one of course but one “that fell off the back of a lorry”, and enrolled on a course (ECDL). Unfortunately she seems to have been last in the queue when they were handing out common sense and brains. After a couple of weeks she decided it was too difficult and so paid the tutor about 100 euros to get her qualification. Rather worrying she did exactly the same thing for her driving licence. Yes, that’s right. She did not take any lessons to learn how to drive. She did not pass any tests. She simply paid an official for a driving licence!! Of course this explains why the driving in Bucharest is nearly suicidal and so chaotic. But also it is genuinely worrying that both members of the public and officials are quite happy to use bribery without thinking of the very real consequences (never mind all the ethical arguments).
Well, this Saturday is Lavinia's wedding. She is getting married in Bran (where Dracula's castle is...mmm seems fitting that she should chose there, poor Horatiu her victim, sorry husband to be!!!) So I shall report back with all the details about a traditional Romanian wedding. If I remember any of it!
Take care.
Andrew.
Wednesday, 4 July 2007
It's a record
Hi Everyone,
So while Britain is battered by storms and torrential rains for days with Sheffield virtually cut off and dams about to burst, Romania set a new record for its highest temperature ever recorded.
"Bucharest is Europe's hottest capital, with temperatures at 45 Celsius (113 Fahrenheit) "
It was blisteringly, unbearably hot on Tuesday this week. I have never experienced heat like it. Unfortunately neither have the Romanians which meant that so far 29 people have died of heat related causes. Bucharest had over 30 first aid tents set up with cold water and medical equipment.
On Tuesday evening we had the inevitable consequence of such heat - a violent electrical storm with tremendous winds. It was like a tornado suddenly came on the city. Huge clouds of dust were blowing about the place, rubbish and debris flew through the air and although there was surprisingly little rain there was spectacular lightning. It lasted for about two hours and at the end of it another 3 people had died in Bucharest from falling trees, flying debris etc.
Since then things have quietened down. No thunderstorms. No heavy rain. Just 34c - 36c every day and cloudless sunny skies. On Saturday I had a call from a friend, Carmel, who asked if I wanted to join her by her pool. You only need to ask me once! I was there in a shot. It is not actually her pool, but a communal one for the complex she lives in. But there surprisingly few people there so it was lovely and peaceful.
You will be delighted to know that this e-mail will be mercifully short! In less than an hour I am about to leave for Timisoara for a couple of days - yet another Tarom flight, goody!
Keep dry and I'll be in touch again soon.
All the best
Andrew.
So while Britain is battered by storms and torrential rains for days with Sheffield virtually cut off and dams about to burst, Romania set a new record for its highest temperature ever recorded.
"Bucharest is Europe's hottest capital, with temperatures at 45 Celsius (113 Fahrenheit) "
It was blisteringly, unbearably hot on Tuesday this week. I have never experienced heat like it. Unfortunately neither have the Romanians which meant that so far 29 people have died of heat related causes. Bucharest had over 30 first aid tents set up with cold water and medical equipment.
On Tuesday evening we had the inevitable consequence of such heat - a violent electrical storm with tremendous winds. It was like a tornado suddenly came on the city. Huge clouds of dust were blowing about the place, rubbish and debris flew through the air and although there was surprisingly little rain there was spectacular lightning. It lasted for about two hours and at the end of it another 3 people had died in Bucharest from falling trees, flying debris etc.
Since then things have quietened down. No thunderstorms. No heavy rain. Just 34c - 36c every day and cloudless sunny skies. On Saturday I had a call from a friend, Carmel, who asked if I wanted to join her by her pool. You only need to ask me once! I was there in a shot. It is not actually her pool, but a communal one for the complex she lives in. But there surprisingly few people there so it was lovely and peaceful.
You will be delighted to know that this e-mail will be mercifully short! In less than an hour I am about to leave for Timisoara for a couple of days - yet another Tarom flight, goody!
Keep dry and I'll be in touch again soon.
All the best
Andrew.
Tuesday, 26 June 2007
It's a mystery to me
Hi Everyone,
As you know I circulate amongst the rich and famous of Bucharest society. Well, OK, I sometimes get to see a famous Romanian from a distance before the police arrest me for stalking. But the other day I was in the office and my mobile phone went off. To my surprise it was Wilhelima Artz, one of Romania's top fashion designers. (I know she is unknown outside of Romania, probably unknown outside of Bucharest......actually outside of her street they've never heard of her!) She personally invited me to a rare performance of Un Mas Tango. This is a dance production that happens about once every three months and is always sold out. Willi (as she is known to us close friends!) has designed all the outfits hence she had some free tickets. As we know my motto is "If it's free, send for me."
The performance took place in the theatre a very nice old theatre, right next door to the Majestic Hotel. However when we went in, the actual theatre itself was empty. Instead the whole of the stage had become where the audience sit and where the performance takes place - the rest of the theatre including all that comfortable, red velvet seating - was redundant. About 200 people were crammed onto this stage, literally we were sitting on the floor.(Thankfully my ticket was free - can you imagine, paying to sit on the dirty stage floor??!). The performance therefore took place three inches from your face.
It would be difficult by e-mail to explain what happened on stage for the next hour, but let's just say that I have absolutely no idea what went on. As it was dance and no spoken word I thought there would be no language problems. That was the case, but I had not expected 60 minutes of meaningless abstract movements, including 10 minutes of an absurd type of hand jiving between the two principal characters. With a completely numb bum I was relieved when this heap of pretentious clap trap was finished.
"So did you like it?" asked Wilhelima
"Very interesting" I lied while trying to get the blood circulating in my bottom.
"It was wasn't it. I will take you to meet the dancers" !!
So I then had to spend about 20 minutes being introduced to various people, including two of the most famous dancers in Romania, and say how much I had enjoyed this thrilling piece of modern dance theatre. The "Prima Bellerina" was a tall lady who was so thin she had to carry some internal organs in a rucksack because there was not enough room in her body for them. Having briefly met her I suggested we went for a double Big Mac, super-size fries and a litre of full sugar coke. She gracefully declined saying she was going to lick condensation off a cold water pipe for her dinner.
Tony has been over again (this retired lifestyle of his, flitting between Uppermill, Bucharest and Spain is beginning to make me extremely jealous!) and we decided that in this very hot weather it was time for a weekend at the seaside. However the prospect of another torrid, sweaty 5 hour train journey to Constanta so appalled us we concluded that the unthinkable was now thinkable - to drive in Romania. So a car was hired. Just a note on this. I am sure you are fed up with me going on and on about how cheap things are in Romania. Well, hiring a car is surprisingly expensive, even when their name is Budget Car. With petrol at about the equivalent of 75p a litre, that is not cheap either. Such an investment in machine and fuel does make me wonder at the suicidal recklessness of their driving.
The car we had was upgraded to a Ford Mondeo. The very pleasant man from Budget Car then went around the car noting down even the smallest of light scratches. I did point out the 2 foot long crack in the windscreen and then when we went around the other side of the car I helpfully drew his attention to the deep scrape that went the length of the car! I can only think this vehicle had been in some Demolition Derby the day before. Thus in an already dented and scraped car with a cracked windscreen we threw ourselves into the Bucharest traffic.
All I need to say is that we drove through Bucharest to the motorway that goes to Constanta and returned two days later without a further scratch or dent being added to the car. This however does not convey the vast amount of sweat that flowed from every pore of my body despite the very effective air conditioning and the three hours it took for me to be able to release my grip on the steering wheel once we arrived at our destination. Every junction was a voyage of discovery and terror. Every single carriage road was a Formula 1 racing circuit. Every traffic light was an apparent irrelevancy. But we negotiated the lot and came out alive!
Last year we went to Mamaia on the Black Sea coast, just up from Constanta which is a very big holiday area with hotels etc. This time we went south of Constanta to some of the smaller beaches with rather unusual names such as Neptune and Saturn. We had booked a room in a guest house in a place called Doi Mai - 2nd May. It is a lovely village with a small beach attached. The slightly bizarre aspect is that it is next to the docks of Mangalia. So when you sit on the beach your view to the left is off an enormous supertanker being loaded up. As the Loney Planet says "Doi Mai, in spite of it's beach lying in the shadow of Mangalia's bright yellow Daewoo container cranes, is peaceful and relaxed".
Three kilometres south of Doi May is the iconic resort of Vama Veche (literally means "Old Customs"). It is iconic because in Romania it has come to symbolise a freer bohemian spirit. This counter culture reputation came about because in Communist times Vama Veche was closed to everyone except the staff and students of Cluj University (not clear exactly why, but the university had some strange connection with the place). Thus it became a place for non-conformists and alternative lifestyles and also somewhere that that the all seeing Securitate seemed to ignore. Today it retains that atmosphere with the beach being covered in tents (used to be free but now costs all of 3 lei a night - about 60 pence). The beach is beautiful and the water quite clear, which is unusual for the Black Sea, and lovely.
However it is Doi Mai that enters the record books of this project for the fact that the cheapest beer so far has been found there. On the project we have been running a competition to see where the cheapest half litre of beer to be sold in a regular restaurant is. Up until now it was the equivalent of 56 pence in a restaurant in Galati. On a beach restaruant in Doi Mai it was 2 lei 50 banii, about 50 pence. Then at a restaurant in the village itself three different types of beer were all selling for just 2 lei a half litre, 40 pence. So sun, sea, food and the cheapest beer in Romania. Can't be too bad!!
The weather was beautiful and hot, but neither Tony nor I had brought any suntan lotion. So on the way to the beach we bought Factor 20. We laid on the beach for about 4 hours, easily enough for factor 20 to cope with. I fear that what we bought was either a bad batch or was simply Romanian lard, because both Tony and I cooked nicely going bright red all over. For quite a few days afterwards my face looked like it had been boiled several times. Shortly after returning to the UK Tony did a great impersonation of a snake in shedding his entire skin. If you are coming over to Romania in the summer I recommend you bring your own suntan lotion
I think I have gone on long enough, so I will leave you now. My next e-mail will tell you about a weekend in another country - three of us went to Chisinau the capital of the Republic of Moldova. And, I know you don't want to hear this in rain sodden Britain, but Romania is experiencing a heatwave. I will let you know if today broke the record for the hottest day in Bucharest.
So long from a sweltering city.
Andrew.
As you know I circulate amongst the rich and famous of Bucharest society. Well, OK, I sometimes get to see a famous Romanian from a distance before the police arrest me for stalking. But the other day I was in the office and my mobile phone went off. To my surprise it was Wilhelima Artz, one of Romania's top fashion designers. (I know she is unknown outside of Romania, probably unknown outside of Bucharest......actually outside of her street they've never heard of her!) She personally invited me to a rare performance of Un Mas Tango. This is a dance production that happens about once every three months and is always sold out. Willi (as she is known to us close friends!) has designed all the outfits hence she had some free tickets. As we know my motto is "If it's free, send for me."
The performance took place in the theatre a very nice old theatre, right next door to the Majestic Hotel. However when we went in, the actual theatre itself was empty. Instead the whole of the stage had become where the audience sit and where the performance takes place - the rest of the theatre including all that comfortable, red velvet seating - was redundant. About 200 people were crammed onto this stage, literally we were sitting on the floor.(Thankfully my ticket was free - can you imagine, paying to sit on the dirty stage floor??!). The performance therefore took place three inches from your face.
It would be difficult by e-mail to explain what happened on stage for the next hour, but let's just say that I have absolutely no idea what went on. As it was dance and no spoken word I thought there would be no language problems. That was the case, but I had not expected 60 minutes of meaningless abstract movements, including 10 minutes of an absurd type of hand jiving between the two principal characters. With a completely numb bum I was relieved when this heap of pretentious clap trap was finished.
"So did you like it?" asked Wilhelima
"Very interesting" I lied while trying to get the blood circulating in my bottom.
"It was wasn't it. I will take you to meet the dancers" !!
So I then had to spend about 20 minutes being introduced to various people, including two of the most famous dancers in Romania, and say how much I had enjoyed this thrilling piece of modern dance theatre. The "Prima Bellerina" was a tall lady who was so thin she had to carry some internal organs in a rucksack because there was not enough room in her body for them. Having briefly met her I suggested we went for a double Big Mac, super-size fries and a litre of full sugar coke. She gracefully declined saying she was going to lick condensation off a cold water pipe for her dinner.
Tony has been over again (this retired lifestyle of his, flitting between Uppermill, Bucharest and Spain is beginning to make me extremely jealous!) and we decided that in this very hot weather it was time for a weekend at the seaside. However the prospect of another torrid, sweaty 5 hour train journey to Constanta so appalled us we concluded that the unthinkable was now thinkable - to drive in Romania. So a car was hired. Just a note on this. I am sure you are fed up with me going on and on about how cheap things are in Romania. Well, hiring a car is surprisingly expensive, even when their name is Budget Car. With petrol at about the equivalent of 75p a litre, that is not cheap either. Such an investment in machine and fuel does make me wonder at the suicidal recklessness of their driving.
The car we had was upgraded to a Ford Mondeo. The very pleasant man from Budget Car then went around the car noting down even the smallest of light scratches. I did point out the 2 foot long crack in the windscreen and then when we went around the other side of the car I helpfully drew his attention to the deep scrape that went the length of the car! I can only think this vehicle had been in some Demolition Derby the day before. Thus in an already dented and scraped car with a cracked windscreen we threw ourselves into the Bucharest traffic.
All I need to say is that we drove through Bucharest to the motorway that goes to Constanta and returned two days later without a further scratch or dent being added to the car. This however does not convey the vast amount of sweat that flowed from every pore of my body despite the very effective air conditioning and the three hours it took for me to be able to release my grip on the steering wheel once we arrived at our destination. Every junction was a voyage of discovery and terror. Every single carriage road was a Formula 1 racing circuit. Every traffic light was an apparent irrelevancy. But we negotiated the lot and came out alive!
Last year we went to Mamaia on the Black Sea coast, just up from Constanta which is a very big holiday area with hotels etc. This time we went south of Constanta to some of the smaller beaches with rather unusual names such as Neptune and Saturn. We had booked a room in a guest house in a place called Doi Mai - 2nd May. It is a lovely village with a small beach attached. The slightly bizarre aspect is that it is next to the docks of Mangalia. So when you sit on the beach your view to the left is off an enormous supertanker being loaded up. As the Loney Planet says "Doi Mai, in spite of it's beach lying in the shadow of Mangalia's bright yellow Daewoo container cranes, is peaceful and relaxed".
Three kilometres south of Doi May is the iconic resort of Vama Veche (literally means "Old Customs"). It is iconic because in Romania it has come to symbolise a freer bohemian spirit. This counter culture reputation came about because in Communist times Vama Veche was closed to everyone except the staff and students of Cluj University (not clear exactly why, but the university had some strange connection with the place). Thus it became a place for non-conformists and alternative lifestyles and also somewhere that that the all seeing Securitate seemed to ignore. Today it retains that atmosphere with the beach being covered in tents (used to be free but now costs all of 3 lei a night - about 60 pence). The beach is beautiful and the water quite clear, which is unusual for the Black Sea, and lovely.
However it is Doi Mai that enters the record books of this project for the fact that the cheapest beer so far has been found there. On the project we have been running a competition to see where the cheapest half litre of beer to be sold in a regular restaurant is. Up until now it was the equivalent of 56 pence in a restaurant in Galati. On a beach restaruant in Doi Mai it was 2 lei 50 banii, about 50 pence. Then at a restaurant in the village itself three different types of beer were all selling for just 2 lei a half litre, 40 pence. So sun, sea, food and the cheapest beer in Romania. Can't be too bad!!
The weather was beautiful and hot, but neither Tony nor I had brought any suntan lotion. So on the way to the beach we bought Factor 20. We laid on the beach for about 4 hours, easily enough for factor 20 to cope with. I fear that what we bought was either a bad batch or was simply Romanian lard, because both Tony and I cooked nicely going bright red all over. For quite a few days afterwards my face looked like it had been boiled several times. Shortly after returning to the UK Tony did a great impersonation of a snake in shedding his entire skin. If you are coming over to Romania in the summer I recommend you bring your own suntan lotion
I think I have gone on long enough, so I will leave you now. My next e-mail will tell you about a weekend in another country - three of us went to Chisinau the capital of the Republic of Moldova. And, I know you don't want to hear this in rain sodden Britain, but Romania is experiencing a heatwave. I will let you know if today broke the record for the hottest day in Bucharest.
So long from a sweltering city.
Andrew.
Tuesday, 8 May 2007
It's been a long time
Hi Everyone,
Hope you are all well and had a good Easter break. I know Easter seems a long time ago now but this has been the first opportunity I had to catch up with you.
In fact I need to take you back to before Easter. Just before I left Bucharest for Spain on Easter Sunday I went to a jazz club. This place is around the corner from where I live under a restaurant called Mica Helvetia (little Switzerland). A lady called Todeo was playing there. So a group of us went and I immediately began to wonder if I was in some sort of play. The jazz club was exactly what you would expect such a place to be. It was in what must have been the old wine cellars with low vaulted ceilings. Of course it was incredibly smokey. Everyone sat around little tables, with everyone having long beards, wild hair, fat stomachs and loud offensive Hawaii style shirts - and that was just the women.
Then on came Todeo, a tall woman all dressed in black with a severe hair style and face to match. She was accompanied by two men - one on double bass who was already sweating even though all he had done was walk up onto the little stage and the guitarist who was straight out of Jazz Club from the Fast Show on UK TV. Todeo began singing but immediately went into a Cleo Laine "do diddy da da da lim ting bah bah reep ding arg ga ga ga ga doooooo bap bap" rubbish for about 10 minutes. She proceeded to do this for every song, many of which I recognised until she started massacering them with her vocal noises that always went on for mind numbingly long periods of time. Thankfully after 15 hours she decided to take a break at which point I realised that I had forgotten to switch off my gas oven and so had to rush home immediately. Apologies to those afficianados of jazz but as you may have gathered, that type just sends me up the wall!
So off I went to Spain to meet Tony and have a lovely relaxing few days in the sun. Actually it rained every day and was cold. The weather was really bad and the DJ on the radio said it was the worst run of bad weather he had experienced since coming to Spain. But we still managed to go to Valencia, Torreveija and Alicante. We also had some repairs to do on the house. A couple of weeks earlier there had been a bad storm and two of our roof tiles had been broken. A builder came to do the job but unfortunately that day was a "red day", that is a festa day so many of the local businesses were shut, including the builder's merchants. However opposite us is a house identical to ours that we have never seen anyone visit in the two years we have been there. And on their roof was a small stack of spare tiles. So with the help of the builder's ladder we nicked a couple of tiles and lo and behold our roof was repaired!
I still cannot work out if the neighbours in Spain are Romanian or not. They occasionally use Romanian words I recognise, but also talk to other friends in what sounds a bit like Russian. Apparently they may be from the Republic of Moldova (which is Romanian speaking) and if they are I am assured it is most likely they are in Spain on "Moldovan Mafia" business. Mmm, that's always good to know.
Back in Bucharest things are returning to the Spring/Summer normality. All the terraces and open air restaurants are opening up. No longer do I have to experience all my food being smoked - just bringing it from the kitchen to your table normally ensures it is cigarette smoked. But now we can sit in the fresh air (well as fresh as the huge traffic congestion in Bucharest allows). And of course the lovely ladies down my street are back again, not that they really went away, but they have discarded their winter coats now and "advertising themselves" more effectively.
Talking of that, last week Bucharest had an "Erotic Fair". Now you may think that in Romania such a fair may mainly consist of an apron some rubber gloves and three packets of lime jelly. But oh no - this is where they excel. I will not go into detail but nothing was left to the imagination, especially by the girls on the centre stage and the male volunteers they coaxed up there. And before you ask, I know this because I was assisting on the AIDS awareness stand. Due to my lack of proficiency in Romanian (and particularly not knowing the Romanian for bodily parts) I was restricted to helping to put up the stand and then take it down again. But that was enough.
Since you have just enjoyed a Bank Holiday in the UK, I will share with you the rather bizarre arrangements they have in the Civil Service in Romania. They get May 1st off, it is a national holiday. But if that day happens to fall on a Saturday or Sunday then the day is lost, you do not get it. This year it was on a Tuesday, so everyone had the holiday. But the government decided at the last minute to give the Civil Service Monday 30th April off too (it made sense and was extremely nice of them.) However that meant everyone had to work on Saturday to make up the lost day. For the Civil Service Saturday 5th May was a normal working day. Talk about giving with one hand and taking with the other.
Finally we have conclusive proof that I should not be left alone in my apartment in Bucharest and that I seem to have a vendetta against my oven. Those of you with good memories will recall that last summer when the girls (Lavi, Diana and Laura one of our substitute translators) were preparing a meal they managed to shatter the inside glass panel of the oven door. Incidentally I have still not been able to replace that glass because it seems the oven comes from Germany and was bought when Hitler was coming to power. Anyway I decided to cook myself a meal so I lit my gas oven and then proceeded to prepare the food. Half way through chopping the vegetables there was a loud bang from the oven and in true cartoon style smoke was curling around the door. When I opened the door I realised that when I had lit the oven I had left the box of matches in it! Not a good idea really!!
So I hoped you enjoyed your Bank Holiday in the UK. Take care of yourselves.
Andrew
Hope you are all well and had a good Easter break. I know Easter seems a long time ago now but this has been the first opportunity I had to catch up with you.
In fact I need to take you back to before Easter. Just before I left Bucharest for Spain on Easter Sunday I went to a jazz club. This place is around the corner from where I live under a restaurant called Mica Helvetia (little Switzerland). A lady called Todeo was playing there. So a group of us went and I immediately began to wonder if I was in some sort of play. The jazz club was exactly what you would expect such a place to be. It was in what must have been the old wine cellars with low vaulted ceilings. Of course it was incredibly smokey. Everyone sat around little tables, with everyone having long beards, wild hair, fat stomachs and loud offensive Hawaii style shirts - and that was just the women.
Then on came Todeo, a tall woman all dressed in black with a severe hair style and face to match. She was accompanied by two men - one on double bass who was already sweating even though all he had done was walk up onto the little stage and the guitarist who was straight out of Jazz Club from the Fast Show on UK TV. Todeo began singing but immediately went into a Cleo Laine "do diddy da da da lim ting bah bah reep ding arg ga ga ga ga doooooo bap bap" rubbish for about 10 minutes. She proceeded to do this for every song, many of which I recognised until she started massacering them with her vocal noises that always went on for mind numbingly long periods of time. Thankfully after 15 hours she decided to take a break at which point I realised that I had forgotten to switch off my gas oven and so had to rush home immediately. Apologies to those afficianados of jazz but as you may have gathered, that type just sends me up the wall!
So off I went to Spain to meet Tony and have a lovely relaxing few days in the sun. Actually it rained every day and was cold. The weather was really bad and the DJ on the radio said it was the worst run of bad weather he had experienced since coming to Spain. But we still managed to go to Valencia, Torreveija and Alicante. We also had some repairs to do on the house. A couple of weeks earlier there had been a bad storm and two of our roof tiles had been broken. A builder came to do the job but unfortunately that day was a "red day", that is a festa day so many of the local businesses were shut, including the builder's merchants. However opposite us is a house identical to ours that we have never seen anyone visit in the two years we have been there. And on their roof was a small stack of spare tiles. So with the help of the builder's ladder we nicked a couple of tiles and lo and behold our roof was repaired!
I still cannot work out if the neighbours in Spain are Romanian or not. They occasionally use Romanian words I recognise, but also talk to other friends in what sounds a bit like Russian. Apparently they may be from the Republic of Moldova (which is Romanian speaking) and if they are I am assured it is most likely they are in Spain on "Moldovan Mafia" business. Mmm, that's always good to know.
Back in Bucharest things are returning to the Spring/Summer normality. All the terraces and open air restaurants are opening up. No longer do I have to experience all my food being smoked - just bringing it from the kitchen to your table normally ensures it is cigarette smoked. But now we can sit in the fresh air (well as fresh as the huge traffic congestion in Bucharest allows). And of course the lovely ladies down my street are back again, not that they really went away, but they have discarded their winter coats now and "advertising themselves" more effectively.
Talking of that, last week Bucharest had an "Erotic Fair". Now you may think that in Romania such a fair may mainly consist of an apron some rubber gloves and three packets of lime jelly. But oh no - this is where they excel. I will not go into detail but nothing was left to the imagination, especially by the girls on the centre stage and the male volunteers they coaxed up there. And before you ask, I know this because I was assisting on the AIDS awareness stand. Due to my lack of proficiency in Romanian (and particularly not knowing the Romanian for bodily parts) I was restricted to helping to put up the stand and then take it down again. But that was enough.
Since you have just enjoyed a Bank Holiday in the UK, I will share with you the rather bizarre arrangements they have in the Civil Service in Romania. They get May 1st off, it is a national holiday. But if that day happens to fall on a Saturday or Sunday then the day is lost, you do not get it. This year it was on a Tuesday, so everyone had the holiday. But the government decided at the last minute to give the Civil Service Monday 30th April off too (it made sense and was extremely nice of them.) However that meant everyone had to work on Saturday to make up the lost day. For the Civil Service Saturday 5th May was a normal working day. Talk about giving with one hand and taking with the other.
Finally we have conclusive proof that I should not be left alone in my apartment in Bucharest and that I seem to have a vendetta against my oven. Those of you with good memories will recall that last summer when the girls (Lavi, Diana and Laura one of our substitute translators) were preparing a meal they managed to shatter the inside glass panel of the oven door. Incidentally I have still not been able to replace that glass because it seems the oven comes from Germany and was bought when Hitler was coming to power. Anyway I decided to cook myself a meal so I lit my gas oven and then proceeded to prepare the food. Half way through chopping the vegetables there was a loud bang from the oven and in true cartoon style smoke was curling around the door. When I opened the door I realised that when I had lit the oven I had left the box of matches in it! Not a good idea really!!
So I hoped you enjoyed your Bank Holiday in the UK. Take care of yourselves.
Andrew
Monday, 2 April 2007
Oradea
Hi Everyone,
Well Europe is suddenly experiencing a bit of a cold snap, just as the official start of Spring comes along! The weather here has been glorious with lovely warm sunshine and 22C. However it has turned a bit more unsettled. Still, can't wait for the 35C+ summer days again. More on the change of weather later.
Last week, after the Piatra Neamt episode, we all flew off to Oradea. Since the journey by train is over 8 hours we literally did fly off. The Tarom regional flight was all we had come to expect and love:
- inflight refreshments being one sandwich wrapped in clingfilm that looked like it had been used 20 times before (and I did not have one of the cheese or ham delicacies, but Marianne the colleague out with us had one and suspected they had been made by the pilot's mother the previous week)
- a landing that was so heavy we bounced down the runway and explained why next to baggage reclaim there is a back massage specialist
- baggage reclaim consisting of a window through which the cases are thrown (and I am not joking!)
The Customs staff at Oradea could not have been more helpful or kind to us. They had two official cars waiting for us at the airport to take us to our hotel. Considering it was 10.15pm on a Sunday night that was very good of them. Then every morning they picked us up from the hotel and took us to the Customs office, bringing us back again at the end of the day. This we were particularly grateful for because the office was almost on the Hungarian border at Bors and so a bit of a drive outside the town. While there they took us for a quick trip to the Bors border post. It is one of the main entry points into Romania and on 31st December had over 120 Customs officers working there. Now there is not one single officer there. Some have transferred to other jobs within the Department but most have left Customs totally. This is the consequence of becoming EU members on 1st January 2007.
Having said that, I was a little concerned at those staff who had been "re-deployed" from the border post. I think one of the reasons we had a car to pick us up at 10.15 at night with a Customs driver is because they have plenty of drivers now. When we arrived at the office where the workshop was to be held, we found a Customs officer preparing the room. This involved putting out salty snacks and sweet wafers on plates for us and the delegates. He then arranged little posies of flowers and pussywillow which he had personally collected. As another "re-deployed" staff member I am not certain his role is business critical. Still I am certain the newly created post of curtain lining manager and assistant shoe cleaning officer are integral to the effectiveness of Romainan Customs in the EU.
The workshop went well (apart from those who could not see through streaming eyes because of hayfever from the flowers), but for some reason Marianne was tired, as was Diana, Lavinia and I. The cause could have been our lovely hotel. For once I am not being sarcastic, it is a beautiful hotel. The Black Eagle is quite an historic and impressive hotel right in the centre of Oradea. Strangely enough the Rough Guide to Romania describes it in very poor terms calling it a backpackers place with dingy corridors. They must have had a refurbishment recently because it is beautifully decorated with modern facilities. Unfortunately it does sit next to a busy tram line. Everytime one of the trams rumbled past the whole room would shake, the bed would move 2 feet nearer the window and the TV would change channel. Since the trams ran until 03.00 in the morning and then began again at 03.10 (or at least it seemed like it!) sleep became a luxury. Marianne did find a good solution - 2 bottles of wine and a bottle of gin each. Worked for her.
The flight back was at 7 in the morning so it was a horribly early start from the hotel. Lavi and Diana are not morning people (in fact being Romanians they barely qualify for inclusion in the human being category!) In the official Customs minibus - yes they sent us a bus and driver at 5.30 am to take us to the airport, I think the driver was another "re-deployed" border guard - the two girls were very quiet. Waiting at the airport Lavi looked quite ill and Diana spent the whole time with her earphones in listening to music with her eyes closed. Eventually they confessed to being up until 2 that morning having "one or two" drinks. So I went straight in parent mode telling them I had no sympathy, it was their own fault etc etc!
Due to the overwhelming generosity of Stephen Yates in Piatra Neamt the week before, most of us in the office have gone down with a stinking cold. While the UK people have been chucking Lemsips and Beecham Powders down their throats, the Romanians have been going for more traditional remedies - goats poo mixed with frogs urine and cuckoo spit spread on your chest and left for two days. Does nothing for the cold but guarantees a seat on the bus. In fact guarantees the bus all to yourself.
We had some awful weather recently. After virtually no snow and a very warm winter I was hoping for a lovely spring and hot summer. For about 2 days we had torrential rain. It meant that the roads became lakes and the pavements became rivers. Tony arrived from Manchester and didn't notice the difference. However he did notice the way the Romanian drivers were being so considerate of the people dodging the puddles - one woman experienced a mini tsunami as a car drove through a lake in the road sending a huge amount of water over her.
Well I will try to send a further update before Easter. Unfortunately I am having to spend Easter at the house in Spain - oh well I am sure I will put up with the suffering!
Take care
Andrew
Well Europe is suddenly experiencing a bit of a cold snap, just as the official start of Spring comes along! The weather here has been glorious with lovely warm sunshine and 22C. However it has turned a bit more unsettled. Still, can't wait for the 35C+ summer days again. More on the change of weather later.
Last week, after the Piatra Neamt episode, we all flew off to Oradea. Since the journey by train is over 8 hours we literally did fly off. The Tarom regional flight was all we had come to expect and love:
- inflight refreshments being one sandwich wrapped in clingfilm that looked like it had been used 20 times before (and I did not have one of the cheese or ham delicacies, but Marianne the colleague out with us had one and suspected they had been made by the pilot's mother the previous week)
- a landing that was so heavy we bounced down the runway and explained why next to baggage reclaim there is a back massage specialist
- baggage reclaim consisting of a window through which the cases are thrown (and I am not joking!)
The Customs staff at Oradea could not have been more helpful or kind to us. They had two official cars waiting for us at the airport to take us to our hotel. Considering it was 10.15pm on a Sunday night that was very good of them. Then every morning they picked us up from the hotel and took us to the Customs office, bringing us back again at the end of the day. This we were particularly grateful for because the office was almost on the Hungarian border at Bors and so a bit of a drive outside the town. While there they took us for a quick trip to the Bors border post. It is one of the main entry points into Romania and on 31st December had over 120 Customs officers working there. Now there is not one single officer there. Some have transferred to other jobs within the Department but most have left Customs totally. This is the consequence of becoming EU members on 1st January 2007.
Having said that, I was a little concerned at those staff who had been "re-deployed" from the border post. I think one of the reasons we had a car to pick us up at 10.15 at night with a Customs driver is because they have plenty of drivers now. When we arrived at the office where the workshop was to be held, we found a Customs officer preparing the room. This involved putting out salty snacks and sweet wafers on plates for us and the delegates. He then arranged little posies of flowers and pussywillow which he had personally collected. As another "re-deployed" staff member I am not certain his role is business critical. Still I am certain the newly created post of curtain lining manager and assistant shoe cleaning officer are integral to the effectiveness of Romainan Customs in the EU.
The workshop went well (apart from those who could not see through streaming eyes because of hayfever from the flowers), but for some reason Marianne was tired, as was Diana, Lavinia and I. The cause could have been our lovely hotel. For once I am not being sarcastic, it is a beautiful hotel. The Black Eagle is quite an historic and impressive hotel right in the centre of Oradea. Strangely enough the Rough Guide to Romania describes it in very poor terms calling it a backpackers place with dingy corridors. They must have had a refurbishment recently because it is beautifully decorated with modern facilities. Unfortunately it does sit next to a busy tram line. Everytime one of the trams rumbled past the whole room would shake, the bed would move 2 feet nearer the window and the TV would change channel. Since the trams ran until 03.00 in the morning and then began again at 03.10 (or at least it seemed like it!) sleep became a luxury. Marianne did find a good solution - 2 bottles of wine and a bottle of gin each. Worked for her.
The flight back was at 7 in the morning so it was a horribly early start from the hotel. Lavi and Diana are not morning people (in fact being Romanians they barely qualify for inclusion in the human being category!) In the official Customs minibus - yes they sent us a bus and driver at 5.30 am to take us to the airport, I think the driver was another "re-deployed" border guard - the two girls were very quiet. Waiting at the airport Lavi looked quite ill and Diana spent the whole time with her earphones in listening to music with her eyes closed. Eventually they confessed to being up until 2 that morning having "one or two" drinks. So I went straight in parent mode telling them I had no sympathy, it was their own fault etc etc!
Due to the overwhelming generosity of Stephen Yates in Piatra Neamt the week before, most of us in the office have gone down with a stinking cold. While the UK people have been chucking Lemsips and Beecham Powders down their throats, the Romanians have been going for more traditional remedies - goats poo mixed with frogs urine and cuckoo spit spread on your chest and left for two days. Does nothing for the cold but guarantees a seat on the bus. In fact guarantees the bus all to yourself.
We had some awful weather recently. After virtually no snow and a very warm winter I was hoping for a lovely spring and hot summer. For about 2 days we had torrential rain. It meant that the roads became lakes and the pavements became rivers. Tony arrived from Manchester and didn't notice the difference. However he did notice the way the Romanian drivers were being so considerate of the people dodging the puddles - one woman experienced a mini tsunami as a car drove through a lake in the road sending a huge amount of water over her.
Well I will try to send a further update before Easter. Unfortunately I am having to spend Easter at the house in Spain - oh well I am sure I will put up with the suffering!
Take care
Andrew
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