Bucharest august 17
August 19th 2010 It strange to stay in a Libanese hotel in Bucharest. It is like an oasis in a stone dessert. I sit on the balcony of our hotelroom, while I am writing. Around me I see the concrete flats, grey and not well maintained, tv-shells, clothes on the balconies to dry and airco's protruding out of the concrete. There are trees, but even they are greyish. The good thing of communism was that everyone had a
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