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.