As we are all set to hop to Bukarest on Monday, I am entertaining several (deep) thoughts about this particular voyage, like, why the hell am I going to Romania, among others.
I have no idea whose idea it had been – mine, I suspect – and there is no reason to go, except that someone said it could be cool, and we’ve already booked. Also, nobody I know has ever been, except people who don’t count because they’ve gone to Transsylvania, or those who are from Transsylvania. We are going to Bukarest, which is, as I am sure you know, not in Transsylvania and is in fact the capital.
I was contemplating packing my stuff earlier, but my bag is still in Indonesia with my sister. I also became aware that the Romania guidebook is in the hands of the Gentleman in the North (to be henceforth called GIN – because he’s The Boyfriend and will probably be mentioned again) and that I have no idea how to get from the Bukarest airport to the hotel. On Tuesday, GIN called me to ask whether I knew if there were any cash machines at the airport Bukarest. A simple case of JFGI/you have the guidebook.
How not to feel unprepared? It’s like that one time I went to Croatia without packing any knickers…
On the other hand, I’ve printed Bukarest Metro plans and maps of the hotel, and I’ve actually exchanged Euros for the Romanian Rupee (actually the currency is called the Leu). The Romanian moneyz are pretty, you can see them here (just scroll down to the Romanian Leu). Note the see-through windows in the banknotes.