Fellow travelllers told me it was ugly and they were not wrong

The very authentically traditional Caru cu Bere
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Day 21

I had spoken with quite a few poeple in the hostels and nobody really had a good word to say about Bucharest. They said that the only thing that was worth seeing was the President's Palace. However, I was optimistic - surely there were undiscovered gems to be found in Bucharest.

Due to the 2 hour train delay, I only arrived at my hostel around 4.30pm. I was told by the receptionist that the tours of the President's palace stopped an hour ago. It was raining heavy in Bucharest and the one thing that I wanted to see was closed - my optimism about this place was draining rapidly.

Ugly communism streets at their best
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The receptionist told me that the palace was still worth seeing on the outside and he also pointed out some other sites to see which included the old town and a very communist street from the palace that led to the old town.

As for the palace, it was absolutely massive and it looked bloody awful. It was impressive in size but not impressive in anything else. Prince Charles would have had a field day with this 'monstrous carbuncle'. It's such a pity that I didn't get to see if it looked bad on the inside as well.

Bucharest....it looks like that its best days are behind it
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The communist style street was awful as well - it was about half a mile of apartment blocks that looked almost exactly the same. There was no 'soviet' charm or anything to this street. If the architect's plan was to make everybody feel that they were in the same boat, status and wealth as everyone else (apart from the guy in the palace at the end of the street) then the architect was a genius.

Surely the old town could improve the situation - actually no, it did not at all. One of the streets was being dug up in the old town and this had managed to turn the whole place into a dirty and muddy construction site. I had to admit defeat in the optimism stakes - everybody seemed right about what they had said about Bucharest and it was disappointing.

Dirty old town, Dirty old town
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However, I eventually found some beautiful sights such as the opera house, library, museums and churches but otherwise Bucharest was not pretty and it needed some sort of makeover (even one from that Laurence Llewellyn-Bowen clown would improve the place).

Oh well, tired and wet from sightseeing, I went in to the Caru cu Bere which was a traditional romanian beer hall according to the receptionist at the hostel. Sure enough, the building looked traditional (ie old) on the inside, waiters were dressed up in traditional gear and the menu listed traditional romanian food. And if poor service is tradional Romanian service then I definitely had an authentic Romanian dining experience.

The awful Parliament Palace - what was Ceausescu thinking?
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There was still more time to wander around the streets of Bucharest and get lost and ask a few people for directions before I went to the station to book the 6.15 train to the airport for the morning. A few language barrier difficulties but I got my ticket. I'd seen enough of Bucharest and was looking forward to Athens.

Day 22

Another early morning start, I'd forgotten what it was like to have a good night's sleep and lie in. The train to the airport was eventful enough. With the use of a passenger/translator, the train ticket inspector told me that my ticket was not valid as it was dated yesterday and so had to be used yesterday.

I'm not singing in the rain or laughing at the clouds
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I told the translator to tell the inspector that the ticket showed that it was booked at 8pm and when it was booked, I had pointed to the 6.15am train in the airport train leaflet. I was told that I still had to pay the 6 lei (about £1.20) for the ticket today.

I told the translator to tell the inspector that I therefore wanted my money back for last night's ticket as it had been sold wrongly to me. God only knows what the translator was telling the inspector. It was the best fight that I had ever put up for £1.20 but I lost and ended up paying. It was fitting ending to my time in Bucharest and summed up my disappointment in the place.

The final insult was that the flight to Athens was delayed.