Week three, everyday Bucharest

I started this blog to try to capture my everyday experiences of moving to a new country. I set out this morning with the intention of trying to see things differently. I am not that good at taking pictures, but I hope to post a few snaps too.

The name of the Romanian grocery store which is everywhere in Romania is Megaimage. Today I annoyed the security guard at the local Megaimage for going in the exit instead of the entrance and I also annoyed the cashier for putting the basket on the counter. I am sure the security guard was tutting me as I left and I felt like the foolish English person.

On the plus side I visited the small country market, everyone here calls it, “the peasant market”, next to where I live today and was brave enough to buy tomatoes knowing that no-one selling produce from the countryside would speak English. I succeeded and have tried the tomatoes, they’re lovely.

I have also been shown how to use busses and trams by a nice colleague and I now know how to say the name of my road to a cab driver without them refusing to take me. When I did not know how to use the bus I took the (exceptionally cheap) cabs when I had a lot of shopping, and I am not sure why I was refused, it was either because the journey was too short and too cheap, or because as my Romanian colleague explained, the way I pronounced the name of my road; Unirii sounds like urine in Romanian.

I did a few nice cultural things with Jeremy when he was here, but it seems I have spent a lot of time buying boring things..such as bins and sheets. There was nothing really at the flat. My bed is too large, it seems to be for a whole family and I have now bought the wrong sized replacement sheet twice. I suppose, this means I should just stick with the one sheet and wash it weekly, while the sun is shining.

With the assistance of the landlord we managed do set up Wi-Fi, so things are getting sorted.

2 thoughts on “Week three, everyday Bucharest

  1. Ah! This reminds me of living in Manchester as a student. I got on a bus and asked for a ticket to Bury Old Road. I asked several times and got only a withering look from the Mancunian driver. Eventually my Geordie friend pushed past and asked in his very strong Geordie accent, not remotely like Mancunian, for some place that I guessed was Bury Old Road and the driver promptly issued a ticket. I had heard the driver speak to other passengers in the queue and he was definitely NO more a Geordie than I was. I was annoyed. Anyway, I did eventually get my ticket cos I said, ‘Same as ‘im’ and the driver couldn’t very well refuse.
    Jeremy T!

    Liked by 1 person

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