theatre of the absurd: Romania, part XIII - Oradea, camera photos - more Romanian trains, more food, more Hotel Gala, and the Piața Unirii

Me and Lital ended up being extremely unimpressed with Hotel Gala, which was a pity given that we'd rather liked it at the beginning. We were out of toilet paper, and I went downstairs to ask the lady for some more, and she ended up giving me this disgusting pink toilet paper that they use on third class trains.

I took the toilet paper, not quite knowing what to say. I have stayed at hostels that cost less than 4 euros per night and even they had normal white toilet paper, not this weird pink affair that has a dusty mysterious coating that leaves a layer of, well, dust on your fingers every time you use it. Lital heard me enter the room, and called out, "Did they give you the toilet paper?"

"Uh," I said, honestly not knowing what to say. "I guess it depends on what you classify as toilet paper."

She looked up, and saw my face, then saw the roll of pink toilet paper in my hand, and her face fell, and she exploded.

"Is this really what they gave you?" she demanded, springing off her bed and crossing the room.

"Yeah, the thin woman that checked us in," I said, handing her the toilet paper.

"They have to be KIDDING," Lital shouted. "I would not use this toilet paper to wipe my CAT'S shit. They are not giving us this sort of shit to wipe our shit. Isn't this supposed to be a hotel!?!?"

"So they say," I said.

"I'm going down to ask her for some real toilet paper," she said, and strode out of the room. I sat back down on my bed, and looked at the roll of offensive toilet paper, and very nearly saw the funny side of it, but not quite. Lital returned 5 minutes later, holding a proper roll of white toilet paper, and still looking furious.

"We should plaster the entire room with that stuff when we leave," she said, throwing a irritated look at the pink roll.

"If this was on a third class train or a seedy restaurant, then I guess we kind of get what we pay for," I said. "But really? In a hotel?"

"EXACTLY," she said. "And here we were, thinking that we were going to treat ourselves by staying in nice hotels."

"I suppose that's how you learn," I said.

If anything, this trip has taught me that the next time I come to Romania with a friend (heaven forbid that I ever travel here alone, this is just not the sort of place where I can swan around solo) I need to book residences, and steer clear of hotels like the plague.

There's not much else to write about Oradea. I will write a last entry on our journey back to Cluj, and a wrapup, in the next few days or so - till then, adios.