I seem to have missed a couple of days, but we just haven’t had much downtime. Trying to maximize the last few days of the trip, I guess.
Since I last wrote, we spent a couple of days in Chisinau, the capital of Moldova. It was charming, a city of scenic avenues and parks. This particular park/staircase was built to honour Leonid Brezhnev’s daughter because she went to school there, and they added a man-made lake — dug by students with simple shovels! — so there would be an attractive vista below the steps. Rather Marie-Antoinette-ish, I think.
Then on Tuesday we came by bus — pretty much an all-day drive — from Chisinau to Bucharest. It felt good to be crossing our last border, as we entered Romania. Although we did not ever have any problems, except for our suitcases being searched once for large-quantity-cigarette-smuggling, we had been warned about possible shake-downs of American-looking tourists when going into or out of Transnistria, and advised to hide our money in different pockets etc. So it was nice to get into the final country on this trip, without having to worry about losing our beer budget.
Our first visit in Bucharest was to the Parliament building, which is absolutely humungous, we could not believe it. I will post a picture of the outside here, that really does not do it justice. You should also note is a perfectly square building, so it is as deep as it is wide. Geoff says he saw bigger ones in North Korea but, honestly, it may be the biggest building I have ever seen in my life.
And here is a picture taken from the presidential balcony. Ceausescu planned it, and the enormous plaza and wide avenue below, in order to make great speeches to one million plus people, but because he was overthrown before the building was completed, he never got to make a speech from there as planned. But ONE person did, and it was… tah-DAH!… Michael Jackson. He was in Bucharest (not Budapest!) for a concert, toured the Parliament, and when they took him out on the balcony his fans were massed below and started cheering him. So he waved and said to them “Hello Budapest, thank you so much, I love you all!” Yes, he said Budapest, not Bucharest. Ceaucescu was probably rolling around in his grave.
Yesterday we visited a very large park, where they had brought in actual houses from all the regions of Romania. Very interesting indeed, seeing the different styles of construction, to suit different climates and lifestyles. I will just post one here to give you a little flavor.
Last night we checked into the final hotel on our itinerary, and our room is certainly unusual. A football theme, the like of which I have never seen before.
And today, Nicolai Ceausescu’s residence. Pretty fancy digs for a guy who was one of nine children of an impoverished Shoemaker. Always thought-provoking when one sees how supposedly Socialist dictators tended to live, while the common people went hungry. These are the steps down to the spa in his 170-room house. The whole place is completely over the top!
