by On Tuesday night all of Romania’s Covid restrictions were lifted in one fell swoop. Doing my supermarket shopping maskless will feel very weird; I’m sure I’ll still don my mask on my next visit or two. So Romania is clambering out of the pandemic at last – the country has had a torrid time, with the majority of deaths coming after the vaccines became available. It beggars belief, honestly.
Some good news on the flat front. Today I finally saw a place and thought, yes, this could be me. The kitchen cupboards are painted a lurid lime green, but that wouldn’t bother me. The appliances are modern, it gets the sun, it’s got plenty of space which I could turn into an office, and best of all I like the area. So many of the suburbs I’ve looked at have an absence of anything old, and that would get to me after a while. I had a look at a second place which had just been renovated and looked rather nice on the inside, but it was somehow too pastelly for me, didn’t get much natural light, and in the renovation process had been almost completely undoored. That doesn’t work for me at all. So I’ll have a decision to make, and then potentially all the legal stuff. Plus, should I be buying full stop? The economy is about as uncertain right now as the next lottery draw. Petrol prices have shot up so much that some stations might soon run out of digits on their displays.
My fridge-freezer has packed in. The light is on but there’s nobody home. I’ve been trying to get through a massive hunk of pork. My landlord came over tonight, and it looks like he’s going to order a new fridge. He took measurements, denoting the length (lungime) by capital L, and the width (lățime) by small l. That makes sense when the two words annoying begin with the same letter in Romanian.
I no longer have tummy troubles, but my drugs are about to run out. What will happen then?
Weather permitting, tennis might start up again this Saturday. Sadly there will be no Domnul Ionescu, who seemed such an integral part of the group.
