Once the decision had been made to relocate to Bucharest for 2 years the subject of the cats happiness became paramount. How would they travel? How much distress would the move cause them? Would they be happy in their new surroundings?
Maybe I should point out for those not already in-the-know, We currently have 5 cats; Salvatore (The Gladiator), Mischa (The Matriarch aka She Who Must ALWAYS Be Obeyed), Bobby (The Ginger Ninja aka Ginger Nuts aka The Nuts), Carmela (Caramela aka Purramela aka The Purrmeistress) and lastly, the above pictured Adriana (Ponky Face aka The Punk).
As anyone who has ever lived in proximity to a cat will surely know, they are a law unto themselves, they make the rules, we must follow. The journey from the UK was of course a source of displeasure for them all, but one they faced bravely and with minimal fuss. For Eli and me, however, the worry almost finished us off.
I won't use this space to relive the trauma of waiting over 3 hours in a Bucharest downpour outside a seemingly abandoned cargo shed for our five priceless boxes to be unloaded from the main terminal. I also don't intend to waste words describing the heart-achingly epic taxi drive from said cargo building to new downtown residence with the full cat chorus screaming insults at their owners from the back parcel shelf. All I will say on the matter is that I don't wish to ever repeat it.
I am fully aware that we must leave Bucharest in approximately 720 days time and it is with that knowledge that I intend to devise an exit strategy that will cause less stress and worry. I'm thinking some form of feline opiate and a slow boat up the Danube, over night train or car to Paris and a speedy shuttle under the channel back home. No doubt Her Majesty's Custom and Excise will have something to say about this, as would the RSPCA and numerous other agencies but they can all answer to Mischa.
And so we arrived, all of us. Eli and I spent the first week realising what we should have carried with us and what should have been sent by removal company (note to self: Always bring a corkscrew with you..always). The cats set about exploring the huge expanse of tiled floor and resisting the urge to pee in each and every corner with varied success.
Our first shopping trips invariably led us to the Pet aisle in each new Supermarket. The job of finding a brand of meaty goodness all the cats will eat is an ongoing project, made easier by the fact that cat food is relatively cheap here, cheaper than the UK anyway. The shock came when we hunted for their favourite cat litter brand, it's pricey, very pricey. Needless to say we found a brand of litter they can tolerate and we can afford.
I think I've just about reached my quota for cat talk for this post, I could go on and if not kept in check would happily, but I fear I'm becoming boring. I want this blog to be about all aspects of strangeness I find on my travels and not just the furry shit machines. One last thing for those interested, The Punk is up-the-duff, if you'll excuse the phrase, her stomach now hangs so low that her little legs visually wobble under the strain of carrying it around. I will of course post pics once the little ones arrive.
My other favourite subject is food. I want to embrace Romanian cuisine, I want to bury my nose in it and inhale. I want to submerge myself completely in their food culture, I want to....... So you get the idea, I DID want to do all these things before I had a chance to actually taste the stuff for myself....It's mediocre at best. I'm basing this statement unfairly on the small percentage of Bucharest eateries I've visited so far and hope to have my mind changed soon.
The food is not bad, it's just not jump-for-joy, hand-clapping, pant-wettingly exciting. Romanians, it seems to me, have a love affair with everything Italian (they describe themselves as cousins, or brothers or something similar...you get the idea).
Before travelling I was curious to know why there is not one restaurant with a Michelin star here, (the closest star is a restaurant in Hungary I think) well I think I know why. The delight Romanians take from their food is that it comes from the earth, has been prepared naturally and will not run out before their stomachs are full. The idea of a Michelin sized plate of food here is laughable as are the diverse ingredients.
A typical meal is made up from a bowl of Chorba, which is a hearty meat soup, followed by grilled meat, usually Pork, occasionally Beef or Chicken and and at Easter, if you're lucky enough to find it, Lamb.
Vegetables do not play a particularly important role at meal time and the idea of someone being vegetarian in Romania is almost unheard of. They eat a lot of Polenta, Potatoes and Bread as well as Pasta, but that's the Italian influence.
Bucharest is full of Italian Restaurants each offering the same dishes with little variation. On the whole I've stayed away from them but meals with Eli's colleagues invariably are based at Il Trattoria or Il Fattoria or Il Calcio. It's easy to forget where your eating, they could all be supplied by one large central kitchen.
My initial culinary highlight so far is also my guiltiest pleasure. The Shaorma is their version of what we know as a kebab and it is lush. In my first week I think I averaged one a day. I'm now down to two a week but it's very difficult to walk past a Shaorma stall in the street and not be led by your nose to the back of the cue.
I'm going to stop now before this becomes painful to read. I'm aware that I've skimmed over a few topics and made some initial claims about food that I hope to be proved wrong about. The fact is that I've not really spent enough time here to say for certain what's good or bad.
I've lots more stories to tell, none of them as boring as this first bit, which I'll get to in due course.
I'm off to feed cats, empty litter trays, and buy wood and charcoal for the BBQ...get in!
