The Last Ditch by Tom Paine

On my road trips, I was usually alone. Blogging about my experiences was a nice way to end each day. This trip (from which I returned at midnight last night) was different.

A former law firm partner of mine (long-time readers will know him as the Quarterback) had been pressing me for years to come visit him and his family at his country home near Bucharest. He was aware that I was sad for various personal reasons and wanted to get me out of the dark metaphorical cave in which I was gloomily spelunking.

I resisted for a long time. He’s an enormous personality and as forceful as a bulldozer with a booster rocket. In my heyday, I could handle him in a professional context. He was even misguided enough to think we were quite similar. The shy, gentle soul I am becoming in my retirement, however, could not face his attempts to reshape my attitude to life – or perhaps even my personality – by battering me with his therapeutic wrecking-ball.

Without a car to fuss over or route to plan, the visit was a simple matter of grabbing a cab to Heathrow. I had run out of excuses and finally accepted his offer. I am glad I did.

I used to visit Romania occasionally on business back in the day. It was a hotter, sunnier version of the other former communist countries where I practised international law. For all Ceaucescu’s blundering attempts to industrialise, it was mostly agricultural. Socialism had just managed to make the farms ugly and less productive. We will make everything uglier and less productive would be the honest manifesto of every socialist, after all.

Bucharest was also typically communist in appearance and atmosphere. Unlike Warsaw, where my children grew up, it still had redeeming layers of history. The Nazis levelled Warsaw when the Red Army advanced at the end of World War II. Its “historical” districts (like the Old Town and Castle) were reproductions. That hadn’t happened to Bucharest, so the socialist brutalism was layered onto the historical architecture.

Still, Communists were nothing if not grandiose. The main memory most visitors took away was of the Palace of the Republic. It’s one of the heaviest buildings on Earth, weighing in at 4,098,500 tons, and is the second-largest administrative building – after the Pentagon. It’s still there, now known as the Palace of the Parliament, but the Romanian Church has built a new national cathedral designed to put it in its place. The city in general has also improved. It no longer cowers in the shade of its former rulers’ architectural bravado.

I like Romania and was pleased to see it had come a long way since I was last there. Outside the rural idyll of my friends’ quirky, arty compound, there were plenty of signs of rising prosperity. It would have come further still if it was not still ferociously corrupt, apparently. Communism didn’t introduce corruption to these countries. Most Civil Law countries are more or less corrupt (though in countries like Germany, it’s so well-organised and methodical that it doesn’t slow development so much). It certainly didn’t help though and, once corruption has taken root, it’s very hard to eradicate.

We did a little bit of tourism: driving into the Carpathian Mountains and visiting Peles Castle. My enjoyment was tempered by my failure to make it up the hill to the castle with the rest of our group.

My health is good, but my fitness is dreadful. I put on a lot of weight sulking in my metaphorical cave. I have been working on that of late and my mobility has improved a little. I was hoping to use that to get back to my photography. I recently traded in my heavy DSLR camera and a collection of twenty lenses for a brand-new mirrorless and three lenses. My whole kit can now fit in a small, unassuming-looking backpack and this trip was a first test of whether I could carry it out and about with artistic intent.

I failed the test. Most of the photos I took were of my friends’ home and the surrounding area. It was 36º C on the day our group took a tour of Bucharest so I have no picture of the new cathedral to show you. Growing up in Wales does not prepare one for that kind of heat, so I spent the afternoon in my friends’ pool instead.

My only modest photographic success was with portraits. Our group of high-performing North American alphas – a famous sculptor, the CEO of a health-care company, a Florida realtor specialising in luxury properties, the former manager of one of POTUS’s golf clubs was not easy to direct but I managed to get them together for a pleasing group shot with our hosts. I set it all up on a tripod, grabbed my remote trigger and led them briefly into position to take the shots. They even stopped talking for the few seconds required!

My favourite photo of the week was a portrait of our hostess, which made it to my portfolio website – the first addition for a long time.

My fitness-failings apart, I had a great time in Romania. I got to spend time with friends old and new, got a bit of a tan, familiarised myself with my lovely new camera and benefitted (perhaps) from a lot of free, intense therapy! I hope to return and reach the spots with my camera my poor fitness denied me. The next adventure, however, will be a long-overdue return to Warsaw, where I spent my happiest and most successful years. Watch this space for that.