My home country Romania might be the most nature-rich destination in Europe, like Vitamin-enriched juice. Carpathian bears coming down to the village trash bins for all the tourists to see them, that’s something that should be advertised on booking.com hotel attraction pages.
For those who can’t afford to make a trip to the trash containers, Bucharest has a similar attraction up its sleeve. Some might find it hard to believe that a European capital city is home to hundreds of lonely, estranged dogs lying and roaming everywhere, from the bus stop to the railway station, outside the airport, on the steps of the Palace of Justice (tellingly), almost everywhere, if not today, than certainly tomorrow. Stray dogs indeed, better yet strained dogs for they are hardly dogs at all. Their sense of orientation has gone awry in a concrete-dominated environment, their sniffing increasingly debilitated while thousands of ecstatic odors jumble together in the air only to confuse and irk animals and humans alike.
Health issues, security issues, one might get the impression that some streets and city corners have become dominated by a pack-driven doggish kingpin. Stories run back and forth of encircled human pray and wounded passersby. In a city with minimal recycling capabilities, these dogs take care of leftovers so that nothing is lost, merely recirculated.
They are still there. Come see them and marvel! If you can’t make it this year, you needn’t fret, they’ll still be there next year!