by I’ve finally found a flat that might fit the bill. It’s fully furnished, just in case you haven’t had enough Fs yet, and it’s on the third floor of a block built in 1986, just off Calea Aradului, one of the arterial roads through the city. I say just off, but it’s pretty much on it. I had a look at it yesterday. At 110 square metres, it’s big for just one person – the same size as the place in Wellington that I’m thankfully no longer burdened with. I found that too big, but in my new situation bigger is better: I need the space for work. This place has three bedrooms (I could convert one of them into an office) and two bathrooms – or rather one bathroom and an additional loo. Crucially it has a hall with the rooms leading off it, unlike more modern designs. I shouldn’t have problem parking a car there, if and when I eventually get one, assuming I haven’t completely forgotten how to drive. As always, there are minuses. The third floor is right at the limit when running a business in a lift-free apartment block. The location is very handy to everything, but it’s not exactly quiet. (I even went back there this afternoon and stood outside the block with a decibel meter that I’d downloaded as an app. Over five minutes the average reading was 76, and when a truck went by it hit 90. Where I live now, slap-bang in the centre of the city, we average 72 in the daytime.) I’ll have very little of the green space I’ve enjoyed in the last five years, although there is a park within walking distance. I’m still unsure how much sun the place will get. So there’s plenty to think about.
New Year’s Eve with the neighbours was nice, if a little tiring. By two o’clock I could not longer stay awake, and I really didn’t need all that food. I realise now that under normal circumstances (that means no jokes or obscure subjects) I can manage fine in Romanian. I should be proud of that, I guess, even if I’m far from fluent. For the second year running, Covid put paid to the big fireworks display, so a lot of people let off their own. Hospitals had a busy time of it. On New Year’s Day I met Mark, the teacher, in town. We sampled the food from the market – mutton, which was a first for me in Romania – and then went for a beer.
Last night I stayed up to watch the darts final on a temperamental stream. A good match, with Peter Wright beating Michael Smith 7-5, taking home £500,000 for his efforts. (Smith got £200k.) The second leg of the match was almost like two blokes down the pub, it took so long for someone to finally hit double one, but the level improved markedly from there. The best match of the few I saw was Wright’s 5-4 quarter-final win over youngster Callan Rydz, needing a tie-break to just about get over the line.
Here are some pictures from my New Year’s Eve bike ride. Below is the semi-derelict church at Bobda. I sent the photo to Dad, who said I shouldn’t put in an offer on it.
