Upon arrival, we checked into Pacific Hotel, a fairly new and eco-friendly hotel with apartment-style rooms. Anne, Kate, Allison and I shared a room together.
The room had a large living space with a flat-screen TV, leather couches, a balcony and two single beds. There was a fully-functioning kitchen with modern cabinetry and appliances. The master bedroom suite had a king-size bed, large windows, a flat-screen TV and a beautiful modern bathroom with a particularly complicated shower. If you pressed the wrong button or turned the knob the wrong way (which was likely since there were tons of buttons and knobs), you might get water sprayed at you from an unexpected angle. Note to self: turn on shower AFTER getting inside and closing the doors...
In order to turn on the electricity in the room, you had to slip your room card into a little compartment by the door. No room card, no electricity. And there were several occasions when our power would just turn off for a few seconds and then on again, for whatever reason, like when I was taking a shower. Otherwise, the hotel was very nice and accommodating.
The group all ate dinner together our first night in Constanta at a pizza restaurant called New Pizzaco, which is said to have the best pizza in Constanta. I had calamari in a honey mustard and rosemary sauce, and crepes for dessert. It was really nice to eat something different for a change.
After dinner, everyone split off and went separate ways; some wanting to explore the city, others taking a taxi back to the hotel. Since it was still light out and was a nice night, Allison, Anne and I decided to walk back to the hotel. The area right next to the restaurant was charming. The buildings were old and made of worn stucco, and they had a sort of French, New Orleans look to them. There were restaurants and bars left and right, people eating and sitting on terraces looking out onto the narrow streets.
As we weaved our way out of this quaint part of the city, we made the mistake of taking out a map to figure out where we were. Almost instantly, two men came up to us, one perhaps in his 30s and the other pushing 70 with no teeth, and ask us if we need directions. Within seconds, I feel a tug on my purse. I turn around to find another man looking through it, about to take my wallet. He immediately stops and walks away, without looking back. Both shocked and utterly pissed off, I turn to his two accomplices and curse them off, threatening to call the cops if they don't leave us alone. I don't think they were expecting that reaction from a little, blonde American girl. Nevertheless, they left us alone indeed. That, however, set the tone for the rest of our walk home and was merely just the beginning.
We instantly became aware of our surroundings as we began speed-walking. The city's charm and quaintness washed away with each step we took. Before we knew it, it had gotten darker and the neighborhoods we passed through were less and less populated, some parts looking abandoned. Dogs barked viciously behind chain-link fences and shadowy faces stared as we briskly walked by. We were trying hard not to make eye-contact nor speak too loudly, lest it became obvious we were tourists. Meanwhile, not a SINGLE taxi drove by. The three of us instantly regretted walking home, at least in such a small group.
After what seemed like hours, we finally made our way back to the hotel. We practically kissed the ground. Note to self: never walk alone at night, take a taxi home unless you are in a group of at least five (preferably with a boy or two). Lesson learned.
The next morning, after sleeping in, Anne, Allison and I took a twenty-minute taxi ride to Mamaia beach, where we spent the next six hours lounging on big, orange beanbags under canopies, sipping cocktails and swimming in the beautifully clear Black Sea. It was complete paradise and by far the best part of my weekend.
That night, after showering and feeling particularly lazy and not wanting to pay for a taxi, we dined in at the hotel restaurant. A seemingly uneventful evening turned into quite the opposite, when I dared Allison to eat the fish eyeballs of my salmon dinner. The man eating alone at the table next to us chimed in on cheering her on, and offered to buy her a drink if she ate them. Turned out he was in the army, and had a bunch of ROTC cadets from various universities here with him, whom we later met up with in Mamaia. Let's just say they were a pretty ballsy group, and leave it at that.
No comments:
Post a Comment