So I am out of Brussels, flying on the wings of a Mafia-owned, low cost airline. I like mafia-owned airlines, because, unlike regular airlines, they don’t need passengers (the goal is not profit here) so you can enjoy lots of space.

Back to Bucharest, I am greeted by a taxi driver with ‘buongiorno, segnore’, offered a taxi for 8 RON/Km, unable to find a regular taxi that would take me home (too close by), and too lazy to order one by phone. So I am on the bus, with my huge suitcase, huge duty free bag and backpack, dragging my suitcase home while three fire trucks and a paramedics are trying to make their way through clogged traffic (I am really sorry for the victims of the accident they were trying to get to, it really sucks to be killed by… traffic).

Bucharest is fresh, muddy, crispy, full of puddles and stray dogs: reality shock. It takes me a few hours to recover.

On a more positive note, let us (Romanians) rejoice the fact that Parisians are assholes too (and therefore is okay for us to be assholes , as we live in ‘little Paris’):

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=utYyB96u0uw&hl=en]