Part 3 of the Romanian diaries, resuming from where we left off last night with Imperial ****, which impaired our abilities to find the nearest pizza outlet not one jot.
Ciao Napoli is the Bucharest equivalent of those kiosks you get as you stumble out of Oxford Street tube; except the pizza slices are a quid and don’t contain horse meat.
You’ll have realised by now this blog is just a way of storing my holiday snaps for posterity. The stroll up from the Old Town towards the old Communist HQ is atmospheric and a bit tacky at the same time.
It’s 6pm on a Tuesday and central Bucharest is quiet, outside of the strip bars (it appears). We didn’t hear another English voice on our walk, despite the city having adopted English signage for our visits.
We considered another beer, but remembered we were on our way to a bit of culture in the Romanium Athenaeum and nipping out to the loo between concertos is harder than nipping out between songs at a gig at the Portland Arms.
The main concert hall is a work of beauty that will make a great micro pub.
Our chance to watch yer proper classical music coincides with the visit of child prodigy Vadim Perig from Kiev.
There’s a beautifully convoluted process to buy the £7 tickets, but at least the lady in the wooden kiosk doesn’t say “You can’t come in looking like that“.
With half an hour to kill Mrs RM goes in search of craft beer and popcorn, and stumbled across the relics in a side room. Literally stumbled.
No craft beer or popcorn, in fact no refreshments, just a crowd of Old Boys and scruffy American classicists (scruffier than me). The seat numbers were inscribed in small characters behind the seat, leading to much confusion and folk whispering louder than normal people shout at Napalm Death gigs.
It was lovely, but I fell asleep during the Wagner.
Back to pubs tomorrow.