By bus to the airport - in itself requiring a good deal of internet research, as the girl at the government tourist office briskly assured me that there was no bus from our bus stop to the airport - and why did I want to know, was the bus station too far to walk with our luggage? It isn't, but we knew she was wrong, and eventually the internet delivers the information. We're flying with Blue Air, the Romanian low cost airline.
The internet has provided plenty of information on the carrier as well, much of it in the form of scathing reviews. Blue might well be the colour of the air during disputes between staff and passengers over the size of carry-on bags. On one unhappy flight out of Bucharest several passengers had carry-ons that passed muster at check in but were refused at the gate, obliging the owners to either abandon them or pay an extra €50 to have them taken as checked luggage. Prudently, we've taken one inconveniently small carry-on as well as my handbag. Checked luggage can be enormous, 32 kilos a case - as much weight as the two of us take for the whole winter - but this is a weekend and one small suitcase is plenty for the two of us. We do witness an acrimonious dispute over the dimensions of a remarkably small plastic zippered bag (legal dimensions for Blue Air are 20"x16"x12"). The owner must have won, as he appeared with it later at the gate. And at the gate we observe many much larger cases and are left wondering whether all depends on the mood of the staff member - or the size of the bribe.
The plane is a rather elderly 737-300 with no frills, but the flight is only about two hours. Quite full, mainly with Romanians who are presumably working in Cyprus.They clap when we land, although there was no particular reason to suppose we wouldn't do so safely. There's a taxi driver waiting for us at the gate who kindly points out the ATMs. The screen announces in loud letters that we're to beware of and report any unusual modifications to the machine, although it's hard to know what these might consist of unless they were so unsubtle that previous users would probably already have reported them. The local currency is the Romanian lei, and, conveniently, there are 5 lei to the British pound - one of the three currencies we can think in.
The drive in is about half an hour and it's dark, so mostly we see advertising signs - many of them for international companies like Carrefour or motor dealerships. Pass the Bucharest arch of triumph in mid-square and on to our hotel, the Novotel. It's a bit odd looking as the hotel is reflective glass fronted by a facade that is a reconstruction of the national theatre which originally stood on the spot. The hotel, unlike most of those in the middle east, lives up to its four stars, with a decent sized flat screen TV (speaker in the bathroom, startlingly, better than the one in the bedroom). We ignore the minibar, but there's a kettle with coffee and a good choice of teas, and a couch to sip them on, as well as the king sized bed. Best is the free wifi in the room which, oddly enough, is easier to find in hostels than in good hotels, presumably because young backpackers choose accommodation with that in mind, whereas those in "good" hotels often have the bill paid by someone else. Of course in one sense only the total cost matters, but I'm beginning to find paying for wifi a bit like paying to use the loo - an annoyance well beyond the actual price.
By the time we're checked in it's close to midnight, so, as Pepys would say, "and so to bed."
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