Interwar Bucharest was a city of contrasts, a fascinating blend of tradition and modernity, where the atmosphere of an oriental bazaar intertwined with the refinement of Western influences. In the middle of this lively urban scene stood Bazaca Street, one of the most picturesque and beloved commercial arteries of the Capital. 

The vibrant heart of a changing city

Journalists of the time summed up its essence in a phrase published in Realitatea Ilustrată: “Whoever says Bazaca, says life, joy, laughter!” 

Indeed, this street represented a universe of colors, sounds, and bargains, a place where skillful merchants attracted buyers through a combination of affordable prices, diverse goods, and an unmatched talent for negotiation.

Bazaca Street was one of the last picturesque refuges of Bucharest, a corner of the city where its authentic pulse could be felt until it was wiped off the map, leaving behind only memories and pages of history.

The mysterious beginnings of Bazaca Street

The origins of Bazaca Street remain somewhat shrouded in mystery, but historians agree on one point: its name derived from Anastasie Bezaca, an influential figure of the early 19th century.

Bezaca was the secretary of Prince Prozorovsky, the commander of the Russian army during the Russo-Turkish War (1806–1812). After the war ended, he settled in Bucharest, becoming one of the city’s wealthiest men and head of the imperial chancellery of the Romanian Principalities.

According to some accounts, Bezaca acquired several shops on the street that later took his name. Others claim he built an inn in the style of a covered passage, similar to today’s Hanul cu Tei. Regardless of the exact version, it is certain that his presence influenced the development of the area. Over time, his name, adapted by the locals to “Bazaca,” became synonymous with one of the liveliest spots in Bucharest.

For more than a century, Bazaca Street was one of the busiest and most diverse places in the city. It was not a space for the elite, but rather a commercial artery for ordinary people—peasants from the outskirts, servants of wealthy boyars, and wandering traders all came here in search of bargains.

A bazaar full of colors and negotiations

Bazaca evolved into a veritable bazaar where every penny was fiercely negotiated, and customers were lured by an overwhelming variety of goods. The products ranged from cheap fabrics to fine silks, wool cloth, calico, accessories, and countless other items that attracted buyers of every social background.

Journalists of the time described the atmosphere as unique, a labyrinth of stalls where, once you entered, you no longer knew where you had come in or where you would exit. Rolls of cloth and textiles displayed outside the shops gave the impression that the street was wrapped in color and texture.

Merchants presented their goods with artistry, accompanying their offers with phrases of good wishes: “Wear it in good health!”, “This is a fabric of rare beauty!”, ”For you, I’ve made a special price!”

One of the distinctive features of the street was the character of its merchants. Known for their persuasive talent, they also had a remarkable sense of humor. Shopping on Bazaca meant being ready for intense negotiations. 

Here, fabrics were not sold by the meter but by the cubit, a traditional unit of measurement used by oriental traders. Merchants skillfully manipulated the fabric so that the cubit was shorter than it should have been, all while showering the buyer with eloquent phrases, meant to convince them they had struck an excellent deal.

The charm of merchants and their clients

Bazaca Street was more than a commercial space; it was a true social theater. Journalist Daria Luca vividly captured its charm, calling it the paradise of bargains for servants and modest women: “Go, sister, and shop in Bazaca. There it’s cheaper than anywhere! In the shops on Carol, we also pay for the rent and those big windows!”

Among the countless shops, one stood out: the famous textile store La Vulturul de mare cu peștele în gheare (“At the Sea Eagle with the Fish in its Claws”). The unusual name alone placed it in the city’s legend. 

Its owner, Th. Athanasiu, tired of banal store names, opted for one that would immediately attract attention. He drew inspiration from other curious names in interwar Bucharest, such as La Cămila de Aur (“At the Golden Camel”), La trei chiftele (“At the Three Meatballs”), or La trei ochi sub plapomă (“At the Three Eyes under the Blanket”).

The beginning of the end

By the 1930s, Bucharest’s modernization had become a priority for the authorities, and Bazaca Street could not escape this wave of change. In 1933, a journalist still claimed that Bazaca “cannot disappear” because it was “a custom of the Capital.” Yet reality proved otherwise.

In 1937, the authorities decided to demolish the street to make way for the new I.C. Brătianu Boulevard and modern buildings. Historian George Potra poignantly described the final phase of Bazaca’s existence: 

“The walls, crumbling at the corners, revealed the narrow bricks characteristic of old constructions. The stone steps at the entrance to each shop, worn down by so much use, no longer had their original shape but were hollowed in the middle, like true basins.”

In October 1937, Ilustrațiunea Română announced with sadness that Bazaca Street would soon disappear: “Soon this last refuge of oriental picturesqueness will be erased from the surface of the earth.” And so it happened.

A memory preserved in history

Today, Bazaca Street survives only in the memories of those who experienced its last days of glory and in the pages of Bucharest’s history. 

What was once a commercial paradise, full of life and color, has been erased forever, replaced by a new urban order—more modern and organized, but also deprived of that irreplaceable charm that defined the interwar Capital.

Bazaca Street remains a symbol of a lost Bucharest: a city of laughter, bargains, and human warmth, forever preserved in the collective memory as one of the most joyful arteries of interwar life.

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