It occured to me last night that I hadn't really described where I'm living. My apartment is on the third, or second, floor (depending whether you use American or European designation). In any case it's up two flights of stairs. You enter a small hallway, to the right is the kitchen, straight ahead is the living room. The bedroom has two doors, from the living room and from the hall. The bathroom is off the hall. Off the living room is a balcony that gets some sun all day. It seems to face in a southerly direction. There is a table and chairs on the balcony which overlooks an overgrown garden area. It's really pleasant to have coffee on the balcony in the morning.
The neighborhood, called Floreasca, has streets named for musicians. My street is off Tchaikovsky St. A few blocks over is a park that I like to visit each day. At one end, it has a beautiful rose garden which is still in full bloom, and beds of marigolds and impatiens. Many of the roses I've seen in Bucharest are the old-fashioned varieties that have an intense perfume that you can smell as you approach. You could say the air is perfumed.
There are many benches spread out throughout the park and there seem to be people enjoying themselves at all hours. In the morning, my peers, the pensioners, are sitting, visiting with their friends. There are also grandmothers watching small children. There is a coffee shop called Memento that is really a nice place to spend a few hours watching people come and go.
There is an unhurried way of living that is very attractive to me. When we go out for a meal, first we choose the restaurant, and eat slowly and unhurriedly. Then we wander until we find a coffee shop for a cappucino and/or dessert. By the time we're finished, eating has taken a few hours instead of a few minutes.
As I've spoken to people on Skype, each has said that I sound relaxed. And I am. For the first time in a very long time. This time in Eastern Europe is really turning out to be a time of personal renewal.