Bonding in Bucharest

warning, there's a lot about football in this piece for some reason!!

So, after ten days, living like a local in Bucharest in an inspirational flat, (thank you to an old forgotten pension pot!) and having the space and time to focus only on myself and my writing, my son came to join me. I have to say I was really excited about seeing him, in fact I couldn’t wait, probably because after ten days of being alone, as much as I wanted to be alone, even I was probably bored of my own company and more importantly of being alone!!!

Picking my son up from the airport made me feel as if I actually lived in Bucharest. I knew which local bus to take and pointed interesting landmarks through the window. I hadn’t actually made it to any of these places as I was waiting for my son to arrive and for us to experience Bucharest as tourists together. Of course he saw it as a free holiday but I saw it as much needed, quality bonding time with his mother. Up to that point he was at home just waiting, sleeping and eating a lot before heading back to Uni in September and to be with, in his words, ‘normal people.’

He said he’ll give me a week. I was under immense pressure. Only a week to bond, reconnect, have a relationship of some sort with my son. It was so important to me to make sure the week was one that he will always remember, with fondness I add. It’s so important because when he was born, I had Post Natal Depression and hid it very well from everyone. I didn’t cope and it was really hard. I don’t think I really gave my son the attention he needed because I was trying to hold myself together. So, I have always felt so much guilt for not being the perfect mum to him at a time when he needed me the most. Maybe I’m thinking and hoping that spending this time together is a way of making it up to him.

As soon as he dumped his bag off, had a bit of a rest, I kid you not, I took him to my favourite watering hole for dinner. I’m sorry to say that where I took him was in fact in the style of an Old English pub. Everywhere else was busy and I was quite fond of it as sometimes when you are far away from home and all alone, just a bit of familiarity is at times quite nice and welcoming. Food, staff and music was all Romanian so I hope that kind of balances things out a bit.

So, Monday morning we were straight in there with no lie in for him. (I know, brutal but had to be done!) I booked us both in for a half day bike ride and tour around the City Centre and Old Town with Ed our brilliant and fantastic guide who knew everything about everything, the history, the buildings, the stories of Bucharest and made it so interesting and funny that it ended up being a fantastic experience for not only me and my son but the other four people on our tour. A young American couple and two retired ladies from The Netherlands. Everyone helped each other during the day and it seemed that we all kind of bonded together through this shared experience.

In fact, that evening, by chance, Netherlands under 19 team were playing football against Romania and we all ended up going along with our new friends from The Netherlands to support their team, in a proper stadium with super fans, smoke things, chanting singing and drumming and what was really interesting was that the stadium only sold non-alcoholic drinks. The energy in the stadium was huge, as you can imagine most of the ‘audience’ were Romanian after all.

I must have counted about 20 supporters from The Netherlands in the entire stadium and that included our small bike tour group on their extended jaunt. We cheered the first goal from the Dutch team quite loudly and could see in the distance that representatives from the Dutch Embassy tried their hardest to be heard and create some kind of an impact in the stadium full of Romanians. They tried, they failed, we tried, we also failed, by the second and third goal I actually changed my allegiance to Romania, quietly, didn’t tell the others, but I felt sorry for the Romanian team and willed them to win just to make the fans happy. Especially all the children that came out, on a school night, (not judging) excited to see their country team play.

Personally if it was down to me, and I was in charge of all the football in the entire world, which, let’s be honest would never ever happen but if I were, I would love all matches to end in a draw so nobody goes home upset. Or I would make it a rule that all supporters cheer each other’s teams on and just be happy when any team gets a goal.

As a woman, or maybe it’s just me, I notice other things. I really admire the referees, I think they have a really hard job managing all the personalities on the pitch and breaking up fights. I notice that the first aiders on the side are desperate to get their moment of glory. I notice the flag people nervously holding onto their flags waiting to put them in the air. I notice the haircuts, most footballers look very smart these days and beards are generally neatly trimmed. Most even have a good tan and I don’t mind the tattoos but not too many. I also notice what they are wearing, their kits, are they all colour co-ordinated? Do the socks match and why on earth do they wear these really bright football boots that most of the time don’t blend in with the rest of the kit?

Then there is the goalie. Why is the goalie always wearing luminous colours and have such big hands and is the loudest on the pitch? Mind you I do love it when goalkeepers kick the ball right to the other side of the pitch when time is running out and they want to get it away from their goal quickly. Both my sons played in goal when they were younger hence I have a particular interest in goalies, for research purposes I hasten to add. I have been that football mum on the side of the pitch in all weathers willing my son to save that goal and be happy but really wishing I was back home in my warm bed with a cup of tea. I did once even knit a scarf of the team colours and always loved to bring the cut up pieces of orange for half time. (I would also introduce both of these things across all matches if I was in charge of world football!)

So, there we were after the match in Bucharest, Romania lost I’m afraid, sadly, not that I have anything against the Netherlands team but there was just so much energy from the Romanian supporters in that stadium at the beginning of the match, all that hope and all that excitement, but after the match everyone left the stadium, quiet and sober and to the sound of the dying drums. I really felt sorry for them all and would have given them all a hug, obviously that would have been completely impossible to do.

When we got outside, I had no idea how we were going to get back to our hotel as it wasn’t a part of the city I knew and all the transport was stopped and roads were closed to allow the fans to leave the area quickly and safely. Somebody suggested getting one of those electric scooters. I have to admit, I have never been on one and the thought of going on one was actually quite scary, for me anyway. It was dark, we were miles away from the centre of town, I didn’t have a clue where we were and I had no idea how to get us back and the thought of zipping around town on a mode of transport I have never been on was freaking me right out, but strangely felt a bit exciting.

I could have taken the easy option and called an Uber, but sod it, I got on one of those scooters and screamed most of the way home, I loved every second of it. I know it’s only a scooter and not a Harley Davison or a Ferrari but for me, it was the best adrenaline rush I have had in a long time. There were no cars on the roads and I felt invincible and so alive and the best thing was that my son loved it as well. In fact the whole day was just brilliant. The half day bike tour with a very funny guide, the football match in the evening then zipping around dangerously on scooters in Bucharest at night.

We spent the rest of the week on and off scooters doing all the touristy things around town, the palaces, museums, gardens, art galleries. We visited cafes, restaurants, hotels and bars. We lazed around swimming pools, went to the amazing and brilliant Therme Spa, wandered through parks, saw the largest collection of rocks which my son had no interest in whatsoever (well, he used to when he was younger) yes, the dinosaur museum didn’t go down that well either, but hey it was worth it for some of the photos I took.

The Museum of Senses was also great for photos, lunch at the Hard Rock Café was a hit and we even managed to see Tom Jones in concert. All this before we had even taken a step out of Bucharest. My week of fun and excitement, good food, football matches and scooting around Bucharest paid off. My teenage son was more than happy to spend a second week with his mum. Well, let’s be honest what is there not to like..

The bonding will continue at our next stop, Transylvania.

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