So here we are again at Stansted Airport, which makes it sound like I’m perpetually here which I’m not. Because it was so busy last time, we arrived really early and then found ourselves sat in quiet surrender on some artistic-looking, but uncomfortable slatted wooden benches. With all the shops shut and only a few people milling around, there was a kind of eerie almost spooky feeling that floated across the sprawling seating area like giant cobwebs glistening on dewy grass. Knowing that we weren’t going to land until after midday (due to the time difference), we ate breakfast at 04:20hrs, which is an uncomfortable time for your stomach to be receiving food. And it grumbled like a teenager that had been told it needed to visit Aunt Ethel and her brood of screaming kids, but didn’t want to be in the same room as the “snotty little rug-rats”.

Getting to the gate and onto the plane was pretty smooth because we didn’t need to take the shuttle train to the far gates. As we weren’t sitting together the next part of my blog relates to the things I saw once I was seated. A young woman in her twenties was sat on the other side of the aisle one row in front of me. A short rotund Romanian woman sauntered down the cabin her shoulders barely visible above the seats, looking up at the seat numbers. She pauses beside the young woman and ushers her two small children into the two vacant seats beside the young woman. So far so good, no drama. Then she points at the boarding pass on her phone and at the young woman and compels her to move somewhere else so she can sit with her kids. The young woman knew she was in her allocated seat and stood her ground, stating that she’d paid to select an aisle seat and it was her seat. But the older lady wasn’t taking any prisoners and glowered at her with her lioness eyes and growled. Seeing other passengers taking an interest in the scene playing out in front of them, the young woman reiterated a little more loudly that she was in the correct seat, but then offered to move. At that moment a stewardess spotted the altercation and stepped in asking to see everyone’s boarding passes. She checked the young woman’s pass and agreed that she was in the correct seat (29D on the aisle). Then she asked to see the woman’s pass and observed that the seat number was 29F by the window. Spotting the small children, she confirmed that they were in the same party as the woman and then asked to see their boarding passes. That was the same moment that the woman unfortunately lost her ability to speak English – who knew? And from then on, it turned into a comedy. But credit to Aimee, the Stewardess, she remained calm, polite and courteous throughout. Eventually she suggested that if there were no boarding passes, maybe they shouldn’t be onboard. Leaving a tactical pause for the older woman to mentally fill the gap. At this point, the woman coughed up the other passes, which revealed that she’d allowed the computer to randomly assign seats to the group, and the children were scattered around the aircraft. Knowing this wasn’t a good plan the stewardess called her colleagues and brought the matter to a close by ushering the woman and her two kids into another row of three seats, and restored the young woman to her chosen seat. Overall I thought Aimee was awesome. And it was clear that the older woman knew exactly how to game the system and avoid Ryan Air’s aggressive charges. We shouldn’t judge her too harshly because we don’t know their financial situation. But I was saddened to see the older woman playing the language barrier card when it suited her. I don’t like any kind of racism, but I suspect this type of behaviour fuels the fire of those who try to persuade us that people who were born elsewhere (and this happens all around the world, not just in the UK), don’t belong or play their part in the success of said country. 

Having arrived in Bucharest and navigated our way out of the airport we hailed a taxi and headed for our hotel. On route to the hotel, we passed an Ikea, a Ferrari garage, more adverts for Black Friday than you could shake a stick at and a Popeye chicken shack. We were amazed that the Romanian for Black Friday is literally Black Friday. But the funny thing was the taxi driver spotted me pointing out Ikea to the ladies, and asked why we were calling out Ikea. After explaining, he smiled and said there were three more around the edges of the city. I suspect he thought we were mad English people to be so excited about Ikea!

The hotel is a lot like a Premier Inn, comfortable but budget-friendly. Whether the breakfast lives up to the standard of a Premier Inn remains to be seen. 

As our rooms weren’t ready I asked if we could grab a coffee. The receptionist nodded and indicated downstairs to the breakfast room. We left our small cases in the left-luggage room and descended in search of a cappuccino and a cup of tea. Approaching a member of staff next to a barista machine I asked if we could get a cappuccino and two cups of tea. The bar-woman walked out from behind the bar asking what tea we would like. I suggested breakfast tea, but that didn’t deter her. She pointed up at a high shelf at a long line of tea caddies. Yes dear reader, you read that correctly. A long line of assorted loose-leaf teas. I could hardly believe my eyes. A buffet of teas and so much choice; it was nearly as exciting as the extensive cocktail menu we’d had in Crete, but different. And on a chilly day in November, a welcome surprise. 

When the teapots arrived, again I was delighted. A proper teapot complete with stainless steel infuser. What’’s not to like.

After the drinks had been drunk and we’d discussed where to begin exploring we headed out after putting our bags in our rooms which were now ready and waiting for us.

The receptionist had told us where to walk to find great local eateries. I suspect his definition of “great”, or his ability to draw lines on a teeny-tiny map needed a little work. We walked the route he suggested and were sorely disappointed. Eventually we went off-route and found an Italian restaurant and pizza house, which as it happened served a cracking pizza. 

After we’d eaten, we headed back to the hotel to find out where the bus stop was located, as we were considering catching a bus to the activity planned for tomorrow. That done we returned to the hotel for a tea or coffee in our room. But on the way back your scribe got a bit distracted by a baker serving giant twisted doughnuts for a quid. The sugar-covered twists were easily 15cm long and 8cm wide. And then a cheesecake shop. Their mini cheesecake in a box looked really yummy, but the pizza had filled me to the gills so we allowed our eyes to drool over them for a few minutes before walking on.