A friend recommended reading The Balkan Trilogy by Olivia Manning before our trip to Romania.
Having ploughed through 900+ pages, I discovered the English Bar in the Athénée Palace Hotel was a hub for British expatriates and a focal point for social life amidst the growing threat of World War II. Despite being renamed the Intercontinental Athénée Palace, drinks in the bar were high on my priority list. So less than an hour after arriving in Bucharest, we were heading up the famous Calea Victoriei for the 15-minute stroll.
Having asked the concierge where the bar was, he charmingly not only pointed out the direction, but led us to it. We learned that it had literally just reopened after being closed for refurbishment. The opening hours are 6pm to 2am, and at 6.30pm, we were the first customers.
We found a table with an unobstructed view of the entire bar, and as I expected it to be an arm and a leg place, I offered to pay. Having looked at the drinks list, the best VFM option was a bottle of Romanian Cramele Recaș Solo Quinta at 150 Lei (just over £25): the alternatives being a G&T at 60 Lei each or a beer at 35.
The young girl who served us was chatty, commenting on the heaviness of the bottle due to its thicker glass, and the fact that all Romanian wine had corks. Elegant wine glasses were presented, tap water was offered, and the wine was kept chilled in a beaten copper ice bucket placed on a stand.
Apart from a loud group of four who unfortunately sat at the next table, but who fortunately didn’t stay long, we were the only guests.
The ambience was like a private members club with dark furniture, dim lighting and a variety of seating styles. The walls were adorned with iconic pictures of Big Ben, London buses, and the Royal Albert Hall along with portraits of Mick Jagger (who performed in a concert in 2007), Sade and Sean Connery (we assumed the Romanians were not hot on the difference between English and Scottish).
As I sipped my wine, I was transported back to the 1940s when Prince Yakimov, an Englishman of noble Russian and Irish descent, constantly sponged tuicâ (a fiery plum brandy) off Dobbie Dobson, Foxy Leverett, and the English journalists who frequented the bar.
It was the perfect start to the holiday.
