Bucharest is a city that resembles no one—not even itself. If you walk through it slowly, and truly look—not just glance—you’ll see a city that reveals itself like a book rewritten again and again, where every era has left its mark without erasing the previous one. Between the delicate French charm of the early 20th century and the heavy rawness of...
In the middle of summer, Bucharest isn't just hot. It's hostile. Sidewalks turn into radiating surfaces, trees—where they still exist—can’t keep up with the heat trapped between buildings, and the city breathes in short, heavy waves of warm air that no longer dissipate by night. Heatwaves are no longer outliers; they’ve become a predictable urban p...
In a digital age where screens dominate attention spans, bookstores in Bucharest continue to hold their ground. They are no longer merely points of sale, but curated spaces that reflect clear editorial visions and the reading habits of a diverse urban audience. Some aim for scale and variety, while others focus on depth, community, and distinction....
In a city choked by traffic and fragmented by invisible boundaries, bridges should be more than just concrete structures. They should connect. Facilitate. Link people, districts, and rhythms. But in Bucharest, bridges are often symbols of unfinished promises — reflections of infrastructure caught between usefulness and improvisation.Infrastructure...
In a city where traffic can paralyze even the idea of movement, living in Bucharest without a car might seem, to some, like an act of courage. For others, it's a necessity. And for a small minority raised on the idea of a more sustainable, walkable European city, it’s a conscious lifestyle choice. But what does life without a steering wheel really...
In Bucharest, the city doesn’t begin when you see it. It begins when you hear it. Long before the apartment blocks enter your field of vision or the pavement feels your steps, the city reaches your ears: a prolonged honk, a sudden brake, a voice yelling in traffic. Sound is the first contact, the first warning, the first proof that the city is aliv...
In an era when streaming platforms have turned living rooms into screening rooms, the cinema remains—paradoxically—a space of shared reconnection. It's no longer just about the films—it’s about the way we sit together in the dark, the simultaneous silences, the synchronized laughter, the unpredictable reactions of a room that breathes in unison. An...
In a city in constant reconfiguration, theatre remains one of the few enduring landmarks—not through form, but through function.In Bucharest, the theatrical scene is no longer the exclusive domain of state institutions. It expands, fragments, and continuously reinvents itself in unexpected spaces.Beyond the monumental buildings, contemporary theatr...
On paper, Bucharest looks better than it did a decade ago: we have a new metro line to the airport (almost), scooters on every street corner, and cafés in former industrial halls. But beyond statistics and urban PR, the city has changed in fragments – like a puzzle where the old pieces no longer have the patience to fit with the new ones.More expen...
Bucharest has a strange kind of memory. It's not just preserved in museums or archives, but etched into cracked walls, peeling facades, and buildings that have long been left behind. We walk past them without looking up. But they speak. And what they say isn’t always comfortable.These buildings aren't just “ugly” or “dangerous.” They’re silent witn...