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Up and down the back of a big, black bull that looked appalling, one magpie was slowly strolling. A wee doggie passing by stopped to marvel at the sight. “He’s an idiot alright! Carrying everybody on his hide… Hey, maybe I can hitch a ride!” Thus considering,

Mister Kă is closely watching a pair of young-people-not-actually-young-seen-from-up-close, that pair of young-people-in-the-distance-who-look-different-from-up-close, that pair is getting on bus #92, the bus which is taking you, taking everybody, in the direction of the

With his empty game bag and rifle on his shoulder, Loveţ the woodsman was slowly walking up the path stretching under the hill. A silly cuckoo was singing in the ash trees on the nearby summit; from the valley, another cuckoo answered its call. The forest had almost leafed

see photos see movie On one of those buses there were comfortable sofas and a piano with a pianist playing Bizet or Vivaldi. On another such bus – trees, grass, a four-handed witch, and Little Red Riding Hood, while on the third bus, people were welcomed by a magician,

The inhabitants of Bucharest came out of their homes in great numbers last weekend to celebrate their city, on the anniversary of 549 years since its first being mentioned in a document. Over one hundred events, taking place in 30 locations, brought entertainment for every

Sometimes glowing colorfully in the dusk air, as doors of museums open up for late visitors, or, some other times, its dark sky flushed by lasers for white nights of entertainment, Bucharest often begins to live and breathe anew after sundown.  White NightsNow that the

Is every city like this? I’m standing on my balcony, looking down onto a busy car park where a space costs €8 per day. The car alarms are beeping, howling and wailing. It spreads like a virus down the street. Nobody seems to mind. Young men and women stand around in

A fiend with a multitude of mouths, which beget sounds that range from hissing to groaning, as it becomes every respectable monster – this is today's Bucharest, not only a city with traffic, alarms, and decibels of construction sites, but also a place with voices.

Newspapers have recently brought to us the information that Bucharest is one of the noisiest cities in Europe. When it comes to bad things, few people do a better job than us at reaching the superlative. As far as I am concerned, I did not need the press to identify the

from left: rundown houses on Lipscani and Mosilor, Dimbovitza river from Hasdeu bridge, street in Cotroceni Bucharest smells exquisitely during the time of lindens and rain. Vigorously soaked for a half hour, the city heals even from the stenches that make you ill. Under

clockwise from top left: Smardan St. , Stavropoleos St. , Caru cu bere pub (2), Stavropoleos Church (3), Russian Church. Early Sunday morning before 10 A. M. , the city offers its first surprise. It is empty. The bare streets are visible in all their twisted length, without

In those days they used to go to the Eastern Station, visiting some acquaintances: friends, as they might, after all, also have called them. Except that on this point, at least, Olga was right: they were not their friends; indeed, there was no way or time when they could