
October 2025. Bucharest.

“All I remember about that first Bucharest trip is your ****ing craft beer pubs” said Mrs RM angrily.
Somewhat unfair, as I distinctly recall it was her making me go in places called “Beer O’Clock” and “100 Beers”, and it was me getting tickets to the Beethoven violin concerto that night but female revisionism is a tricky topic.
Still, Mrs RM was making sure we did the big Instagram hits this time, and since we woke that Friday to persistent drizzle I was happy enough to take a coach tour from outside the Church of St Nicholae in the University quarter,

even though I sensed my chance of Untappd check-ins was slim.
£17 for the coach with Get Your Guide, 60 euros “in cash” for the 3 big attractions.

The Village Museum (Dimitrie Gusti) is one of those sites with old buildings from different eras taken from around the country (see also : Beamish) that show you how folk lived before colour telly and craft beer and communism.

It’s beautifully done, and would have been a joy if not for the drizzle that presumably accounted for the absence of all visitors apart from our two dozen (Germans, Swiss, Brits, Romanians).

Tourism seemed light on our trip, at least till Transylvania, and again we had Ceausescu’s mansion to ourselves at stop 2.

Now, I’m no fan of tours of stately homes, but Ceausescu’s home is astonishing, particularly the famed gold bathroom and Elena’s wardrobe, which alone is bigger than Wembley.

But the real giant folly of Bucharest is the 4 million tonnes of Parliament commissioned by Nicolae,

which costs the taxpayer £5 million a year just to heat and light.

Lots of questions for the tour guide, mostly of the “What do you Romanians feel about this white elephant then ?” variety.

And of course, the answer is complex. Their Parliament, the heaviest (hey !) in the world, is a beautiful building, and unless Wetherspoons comes in with an offer it’ll continue to be an underused gem, a bit like a Sam Smiths pub.
“Female revisionism is a tricky topic”, agreed, and best kept quiet about!
I think the real tragedy behind Ceausescu’s Parliament, was the huge swathes of the city that were demolished to make way for it. I remember reading somewhere that Bucharest was regarded as the Paris of the east – Belle Époque charm, and all that, but that didn’t stop old Nicolae knocking half of it down.
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That’s a good point about the demolition, Paul. I just read about that now. Interestingly, there’s still a fair bit of French style in the suburbs that we explored that weekend, and a lot less dog mess than Paris !
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Yes, like the White Lion and the Unicorn demolished for the Queensway road as I’m reminded of writing “50 years ago” for the branch magazine. And then the Coach and Horses opposite Piccadilly railway station being demolished for the rather more useful tram.
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I just read your excellent article in the local Staffs CAMRA magazine.
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Reminds me of a Russian joke. Stalin invites his old mum to see how well he’s done. He shows her his office in the Kremlin, his palace in Leningrad, his limousine and private train and his hunting estate out in the country. The old lady is not impressed. She says “This is all very well son, but what happens when the Communists get in?”
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Couldn’t be more timely Bill.
These “Men Of The People” seem to think that they’re on some kind of a roll atm…
But enough of this levity and all this jetting about. Let’s have…
…Name This Pub
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…and whoever is The First would be a bit of a Clever Dick…
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…it’s a good pub where a pretty mean time can be had by all…
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I asked how the Ceausescu home was protected after the uprising; apparently looters were fobbed off with his (vast) alcohol collection.
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“All I remember about that first Bucharest trip is your ****ing craft beer pubs”
“………… is your brewing craft pubs”?
with astringent murk like you’d get from a garden shed in Maidenhead ?
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There is an actual garden shed in the Good Beer Guide not far from Maidenhead (Goat in the Garden in Farnborough) run as a hobby by a small hotel owner. The beer (not murk) was, unexpectedly, stunning.
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