I hate living in Bucharest. Just when you are pushed to the brink of nervous breakdown by the combination of traffic chaos, filth and people’s rudeness, just when you are ready to catch the bus to Spain and join the ranks of the ‘capsunari’ (strawberry-pickers), well, just at that very moment, you come across yet another instance of the kind of absurd, senseless, yet hilarious and pitoresque event that makes you stay for more.

Take yesterday for instance. I go to check out a new gym, in desperate need of exercise too cool off the steam of living in this Armageddon-like city. I look at the price list, and see:

1 session – 27 RON
4 sessions – 90 RON
8 sessions – 190 RON Continue Reading »