Sunday Oct 25 Bucharest

 Itinerary

Mon Oct 12 -13 Toronto - Paris - Vienna

Oct 13 - Vienna

Oct 14 - Vienna

Oct 15 - Vienna

Oct 16 - Vienna to Budapest by train

Oct 17 - Budapest

Oct 18 - Budapest to Zagreb Croatia

Oct 19 - Zagreb

Oct 20 - Zagreb - Belgrade Serbia

Oct 21 - Belgrade

Oct 22 - Belgrade

Oct 23 - Belgrade - Bucharest Romania

Oct 24 - Bucharest

Sunday, October 25 

With the clocks falling back we are back to the same time as Belgrade. So much for that extra hour of daylight.

We had set the alarm for 7, planning on going to Sinaia , then on to Brasov for the night.

First we couldn't get any tickets for Pele's Palace, sold out. Then couldn't get a good seat on the train. We decided to forget it and cancelled our hotel reservation. 

Stepping out from the warmth of the hotel, the cool air smelled faintly of autumn and rain. 

The journey began by cutting through the narrow, cobblestone arteries of the Old Town, quiet for a Sunday but lots of tourists out and about.

The river is very low!

Crossing the main boulevard, the route opened up onto the grand, fountain-lined Unirii Boulevard—Bucharest's answer to the Champs-Élysées. Visually, the massive Palace of the Parliament anchored the horizon, growing larger and more imposing with every single step.

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Reaching the foot of the building, its sheer scale felt completely overwhelming, even if its aesthetics left much to be desired. Let's face it: the Palace of the Parliament is an ugly building. A monstrous mountain of white marble, socialist-realist architecture, and heavy neoclassical details, it stands as a brutalist testament to ego rather than beauty. This mountain of concrete was the ultimate manifestation of the delusions of Romania’s communist dictator, Nicolae Ceaușescu.

 Inspired by totalitarian North Korean architecture, Ceaușescu literally flattened history to build it—demolishing thousands of historic homes and forcing his citizens into freezing winters and food rations just to harvest millions of tons of local marble. He famously micro-managed every detail, even ordering massive marble staircases to be torn down and rebuilt multiple times simply because they didn't match the exact stride of his short stature. It remains a heavy, permanent scar on the skyline, holding the title of the heaviest building in the world.

 It felt heavy, permanent, and endlessly complex, holding the title of the heaviest building in the world.

To truly grasp its magnitude, it required a full 360-degree walk around the perimeter. Walking the exterior walls revealed the true immensity of the estate:

• The grounds span over 330,000 square meters.

• The perimeter stretch required a trek of nearly 3 kilometers just to loop it. Yikes, we did it.

• The massive concrete courtyards felt completely empty under the grey sky.

We didn't bother visiting the inside, as the lineup at security was absolutely massive. Standing in an endless queue just to get past airport-style metal detectors felt like a waste of a good day, so we decided to appreciate its overwhelming scale from the outside instead.

This was peeking out behind the Parliament so we were looking.

During the loop, the route shifted as we climbed up to Arsenal Hill (historically known as Signal Hill). 

Rising sharply on this elevated ground next to the Parliament stood the People's Salvation Cathedral. Still raw and gaudy in its newness, this massive Orthodox cathedral—the tallest in the world—struck a polarizing chord against the sky. 

Its pristine, oversized grandeur felt loud, yet the moody weather managed to soften the view.

 Suddenly, the sun broke through the heavy clouds, illuminating the landscape and creating perfect, crisp reflections of the monumental cathedral in the rain puddles scattered across the ground. 

The brilliant sunlight catching the water and the massive copper domes cut a dramatic silhouette against the retreating overcast sky.

Across the street we spotted the Marriott, where our river cruise would have ended. We weren't impressed with its location, so far from anything.

Leaving the shadow of the giant cathedral, we stumbled upon a smaller, much more traditional church nearby. Hidden away from the bombastic scale of its modern neighbors, this intimate sanctuary felt like finding the real soul of Bucharest. Intricate, centuries-old frescoes lined the walls, lit only by the soft, flickering glow of candles—a quiet, historic world away from the loud, polished concrete outside.

A large stainless steel food-grade tank (similar to a commercial wine or water cistern) set up outdoors, with a sign reading "AGHIAZMĂ MICĂ - Se ia pe nemâncate, după anafură" (Lesser Blessing of the Waters / Holy Water — to be taken fasting, after anafura [holy bread]).

After completing the massive loop around the Parliament, the route led back down toward the familiar, tangled streets of the Old Town.

 The entrance of the Ministerul Mediului, Apelor și Pădurilor (Ministry of Environment, Water and Forests) located at Bulevardul Libertății nr. 12.

 The historic Clădirea Românească (left) and Agricola-Fonciera (right) buildings located at the intersection of Calea Victoriei and Splaiul Independenței.

 Built between 1926 and 1928, they were commissioned by two major competing insurance companies during Bucharest's interwar boom.

The Left Building: Originally known as Palatul Societății „Clădirea Românească” (and later the Adriatica-Trieste Palace), it was designed by renowned architect Paul Smărăndescu.

The Right Building: Named the Agricola-Fonciera Palace, it was designed by the prolific academic architect Petre Antonescu.

 The buildings transition gracefully from French Beaux-Arts and Art Nouveau elements down to early Art Deco features. The Agricola-Fonciera Palace is famously decorated with an agrarian motif showcasing a shepherd and a cultivator, and its main entryway is flanked by massive Greek-inspired cariatide statues.

Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu was highly impressed by the scale and style of these two palaces. He later used their silhouette and columned crowns as direct structural templates when building the massive socialist apartment blocks that line modern avenues like Bulevardul Unirii.

Today, both landmarks are classified as historical monuments and serve a primarily mixed-use purpose.

The upper levels of both blocks house private residential apartments. The ground floors are actively utilized for commercial space, storefronts, and offices.

True to its history as a home to prominent interwar figures and artists (such as the painter Ion Murariu), parts of the ground floor have regularly hosted art galleries and cultural exhibitions.

St. Demetrius–Poștă Church (Biserica Sfântul Dimitrie–Poștă) and its modern metal bell tower in the historic Lipscani Old Town district.

With the sun now fully out, we finally tracked down a comfortable sidewalk couch at Nobis. Dropping into the cushions, we ordered a couple of cold beers and just basked in the glorious afternoon sunshine.

We had decided we just wanted burgers for dinner and tried the pub Kilkenny, but it was just too scuzzy for us.

We walked over to the Big Ben pub instead. As we sat down, we both said "why don't we take to train tomorrow to Sinaia? The palace is closed but we can see the outside and the town", and just like that a plan was formed.

A perfect way for John to get rid of the few Hungarian forints he had been carrying around.