Walk with Mihai, str. Paris and other gems

Dear Everyone,

I saw Mihai yesterday for a Nicole Tour...and he knew everything before I had to say a word! 6, str. Biserica Amzei is still up for sale (left)...looks like no one fancies it, but if anyone would like to give it to me for Christmas, that's fine by me. Radu Arion's villa with the dragon extravaganza outside would suit me down to the ground. I could pack it full of little old ladies and have stray but gentle dogs in the garden. Goats would come in handy too, instead of a lawn mower.

The Filipescu-Cesianu mansion is at last in the throes of renovation. No one could quite say when it would be finished, but when it finally is, it will house the Cesianu Museum. I'm most curious to discover what that will cover exactly. No one could tell us that either. Very cloak and dagger.

The Gradisteanu-Ghica mansion (how beautiful it is) is no longer Roumanian. The plaque on the gate said it was now...er...Chinese owned, a Chinese Cultural Centre. I don't know whether to be traumatised by Roumania's loss of such a superb piece of architecture or delighted that at last it has an owner who is clearly paying through the nose to have it looking sublimely clean and stunning. I don't know what has happened to the Ion Ghica Foundation that used to be housed within. There was no one to ask except a bunch of businessmen having a bit of a drinkypoohs in the front garden but they didn't look like they'd have had the slightest inkling.

We paid a passing visit to Mitza Bicyclitza's house - how I love it. Those cherubs really are something!

Mihai knew the house behind the Roumanian Academy gardens belonging to Radu Rosetti who died in prison in 1949. I hadn't found it last time I hunted on str. Moxa. In fact, the number was incorrect on my list. However, it's a red building that didn't exude any atmosphere whatsoever. Mihai wanted to look round the back to check out if the angles were straight or crooked. We were stopped by a man who wanted to know our business. Did we want the architects? I replied that of course we did. Which one? Well, the secretary of the head architect of course. I waved my phone bill - I had a letter to deliver. He let us pass. No crooked angles. We hung around for a while so Mr Maximum Security wouldn't get suspicious.

Bang across the road at number 12 is the most gorgeous single storey house (see right) so typical of the interbellum period and before - now a pub and club. Had it been a bit later I may have considered lunch there with Mihai though I imagined it to be a little over-budget. Very tastefully renovated, it certainly deserves a beer-stop in the summer if it's open.

We finally stopped for a drink at 24, str. Biserica Amzei as it was starting to get very hot indeed. The beautiful house that had once been Lascar Catargiu's is now a restaurant with a nice front garden of wrought iron chairs and tables serenaded by good music. We had Getz and Gilberto. Perfect for the weather and surroundings. Double the price of the usual soft drinks, but hey...we were chez Lascar!

We walked back here to the treetop flat for lunch via str. Roma. Not a whole lot to see there - what a mishmash of architecture and styles - and some have no style at all. The one decent building to be seen on the street is the Financial Building for Sector 1. Apart from that, zip.

At Pta Dorobantilor, we wandered through the little park, admiring a statue of Brancusi (left). According to one of my students, it hasn't been there much longer than the last 20 years or so. Before that, it was home to the Romulus and Remus statue now found at Pta Romana (right). Apparently, the students from Caragiale on bd. Dorobantilor used to move the statue to different parts of the area - str. Prague, Roma, Paris, Tirana, Londra, Madrid - for a laugh, until one day the authorities (whoever they were!) got fed up with sending staff out on magical mystery tours to track it down. As a solution, they moved it to Bd. L. Catargiu. It clearly didn't have the same allure, and frankly, looks impossible to move. What a lovely story! Thanks for that, Horia. Got any more?

Lunch here and then we parted at Sos. Stefan cel Mare, I to work and he towards home. It was a lovely way to spend a late morning and lunch time between classes. We'll meet again tomorrow but where on earth can I take him this time?! He knows everything except Bellu and we don't have time for that. Anyone have any ideas? Maybe str. Rabat to play detectives on the search for the origins of the 4 friends?

Sunday, I went for a walk around the str. Paris area with Eugenia after our lesson was over and done. I wanted to find the Mociornita house, number 53, which the Russians don't want to part with for love nor money (though I don't think either are on the cards). I can well see why. A massive mansarde of a place in grey and no architectural style to speak of. It seems far better suited to a bunch of Russian dips than someone like Marie Rose Mociornita who has such evident taste and seems so refined. But who am I to judge...

Across the road however, well, that's another story. A charming, higgledy-piggledy house oozing with character, perhaps inspired by a Swiss chalet and wreaking of Heidi. How pretty it is, what personality. I've no idea who lives in it, who built it, who the architect was, but chapeau! I love it.

Into str. Athena, and smack bang into a small chateau of sorts (see left), built in typical Roumanian style complete with tower and desperately in need of attention. Quite lovely nevertheless. It was clearly lived in, probably by a family as there were childrens' toys on the terrace. I don't know anything about it and there was no I.A.L. plaque to note.

Str. Demetriade, past the pretty white Catholic church and the new porch that Eugenia so hates, and straight on to the little flowered square with the statue of Monseigneur Ghica, victim of the communists, who died in Sighet prison aged over 80, battered, tortured and frozen to death. I spent quite a while with him, feeling a huge wave of sadness for the sort of this wonderful old man with such a kind and gentle face.

On to str. Tirana to admire the house on the corner of str. Modrogan. Spanish style of sorts and very pretty indeed. It once belonged to the Ghica family who sold it to a Dragomir. Today it's the Spanish Embassy.

A lovely walk, quiet, peaceful and shadey amongst the trees and high walls of some gorgeous private properties. It was nice to pass in front of Magda (Elena) Lupescu's house once again, even though I couldn't see the main building. Small cottages are scattered around the garden built for the staff I suppose. Part of the garden is maintained rather nicely, the rest has gone to seed.

The week is already midway and I can't believe it. After getting up at 6h every morning so far, I was thrilled when a class was cancelled for tomorrow. Oof. An extra hour in bed I hope, and a bit more time with Rosie. Am still trying to find her a home and awaiting the return of Dana to see if she has anymore ideas. Brasov this weekend. How lovely to be back with Lidia and Many again, and away from this seering heat which is set to heighten more so as the summer progresses. I think I'll have to abandon ship in August and commit myself to the kindness of friends in the countryside... how I miss the coolness of the cave, but how I don't miss Mr. Viagara! I saw him this morning as I was getting off the bus. He was walking Kitzu. Shorts and sandals and long brown socks. Eugh! Aaaand I saw Titi this morning too, who gave me a big kiss in the middle of str. Eminescu. He looked very dapper all in black with a white tie - and with, I suspect, new gnashers. They looked bigger and whiter than I'd ever seen them and could serve as landing signals to aeroplanes at Otopeni. He looked as though he was either in a comedy musical or going somewhere important - an interview or... lunch with a certain lady. His moustache was as white as his teeth. Reminded me a little of the kidney man in Monty Python's 'Can I 'Ave Yer Kidney, Then?' sketch. He could so easily have whipped out his cane and cape and started a little tap dance!

I've nearly finished reading Mike Ormsby's 'Never Mind the Balkans, Here's Romania', and though negative in parts, I find it a very tender and affectionate travel book of experiences here in Roumania, particularly an entry called 'Buried' about Corneliu M. Popescu, an excellent translator of Eminescu (look back on blog and you'll find him) who died aged 19 in the 1977 earthquake. Beautifully written, sensitive and touching. I'll see if I can post it here without abusing copyright, and if not, Corneliu certainly deserves a spot as he was a true prodigy. For more, see: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corneliu_M._Popescu and for his truely superb translations of Eminescu, take a look at http://www.estcomp.ro/eminescu/popescu.html. More on him another time. He merits a post all to himself.

All for now. Have a good evening.

Love, Sarah xox 

Comments

[cristi]

it's nice to see bucharesti through your eyes :)