illegal pleasures Tweet

illegal pleasures, originally uploaded by gorgeoux.

This is how I found Bucharest: smelling of winter, sunny as spring, traffic packed, under (eternal?) construction and hanging on to old habits like this—selling flowers in the street illegally. Something my frequent readers know just how much I miss.

As usual, I feel slightly dizzy on such a short trip. Went to bed late, slept too little, organised three meetings, spoke to mom too little for her taste and yearning, heard nothing from my sister, walked the devastated, dirty streets, heard a cab driver curse in half an hour as much as I do in a month, and generally enjoyed feeling the city being alive. The trip to the bank, though longer than expected, proved smoother than expected, as well. Enjoyed explaining how Britain is not so much better, as so much different.

Now in City Grill, another usual suspect, where Internet flows beautifully and freely. Where I can catch up with work and email, in between meetings, over a fresh lemonade made with sparkling water and honey. Where I can smoke indoors, still, which is glorious and disconcerting. Where I won't be told off for hanging around with my laptop for too long.

I love going to places that challenge me. I can't envision the day Bucharest will stop doing so to a local.