I stopped living in a boring block of communist era in Eastern Europe … and I love it

Halfway through my job interview for a newspaper role in Bucharest, a sudden panic touched me.

Was the Bucharest … or Budapest? Maybe I was confused exactly where I had applied. I decided to prevent the name from mentioning the rest of the interview.

It worked and I got the job – after all, it was ‘Bucharest’ – and was soon on my way to the Romanian capital to start my foreign adventure.

Fresh from the university, I had done quite a bit of backpacking and appreciated a year to work abroad before I returned London And get a ‘right job’.

That was in 2002 – and I never went back.

Part of the profession of Bucharest is, despite recently inflationThe low prices give expats much higher standard of living than we would come home.

In 2003 I only brought a centrally located flat of 73 m² three bedrooms next to the oldest and most charming park in Bucharest and near the river Dâmbovița. The town hall was a three -minute walk, the opera building a ten -minute walk.

In 2011 my partner and I made an offer to our landlord and bought the flat, in cash, for £ 82,000. An equivalent flat with three bedrooms in Central London would be at least £ 500,000, double that in some postcodes.

The salaries have risen since Romania came to the EU in 2007 (the average take-home wage is now around £ 960 per month)-and that also applies to the prices. Today my flat would probably rent for almost £ 700 and sell for around £ 140,000.

Like most inhabitants of Bucharest, we live in a building from the communist era. It looks boring from outside – typical of the eastern block but is beautiful on the inside.

Romanians know that their country does not enjoy the greatest reputation abroad. Orphans, stray dogs, communism and dracula are the usual clichés.

But today’s Bucharest is a modern, stylish and very liveable capital. An ambassador friend of mine told me that the diplomatic community regards it as a well -maintained secret: their colleagues are sorry to grind them in Grim Romania, while they really live it here.

The hardships of communism have long since disappeared and I have all the facilities at my door.

Get outside and there are a dozen coffee shops within a few minutes’ walk. Some are as chic as everything in Soho or Notting Hill – filled with hipsters who sip on Ethiopian batch flat whites at 20 slate (£ 3.40) a doll. But small stores also sell Espresso collection meals for 35p, if you are looking for a no-frills caffeine hit.

It is the same with drink-in high-end bars or traditional beer pubs, expects to pay £ 5 for your artisan beer or Bordeaux. But in an old -fashioned Romanian pub, especially on the outskirts of the city, far from the tourist path, you can get a local beer for £ 1.70, even £ 1 during Happy Hour.

Restaurant meals are easy on the wallet in the same way: pizza or pasta dishes (Italian food is popular) start from around £ 6.

Dealing is another bargain. One metro trip is 85p, 90 minutes bus or tram travel only 50p. A taxi from the city center to the airport (15 km or 9 miles) should not be more than £ 10.

Our municipal tax equivalent is about £ 67 a year, much less than in my residence of Orpington, where the costs for a band C ownership are approximately £ 2,000 a year.

Block services (including water rates, heating, waste collection and the repair and maintenance of common areas) start from around £ 120 per month, rise to £ 220 in winter, when the temperatures often fall below zero – although households with fewer members in smaller houses pay less.

Electricity usually costs us about £ 25 a month, although it can reach £ 85 in the summer when our AC pumps 24 hours to ward off 40 degrees of heat.

500 MB Internet and cable is £ 17 per month, and we each spend £ 8.50 a month on our plans for mobile phones.

A liter of gasoline is £ 1.20 and car tax on our Kia is £ 50 a year.

Healthcare is covered by salary contributions, but many expats choose to take out private insurance.

The smoke rates are high, with cigarettes that cost around £ 3.50 per package. A supermarket beer starts from around 85 p.

What I especially love is how accessible culture is. For cinemas run by the state, the standard entry is only £ 2.50, while a ticket for the opera can only cost £ 8.

In addition to cheap, life here is also cheerful. The relaxed Latin atmosphere, combined with beautiful warm weather, looks out families in the park most of the year in the park.

On the other hand, after dusk I would not dare to put a British park, let alone take my children – on my care for teenage gods that adheres to cider and puffing.

But all the expats I know here say how safe the city feels. There is a strange pickpocker, but robberies and other violent crime are virtually unheard of.

However, the life of Bucharest has its challenges.

Communism created a soul-sappe bureaucracy. Administrative procedures that would last for a few minutes online in the UK – say, finding out pension contributions or registering a new vehicle – can endless drag and business owners complain about the many hoops that have to jump to meet their tax obligations.

The facilities for utilities is fragmentary households can be left without hot water for days. The public health system is struggling for financing, and although medical staff is often hard -working and well -intentioned, the facilities can even seem rudimentary in Bucharest, let alone in the poorer regions throughout the country.

Improve the roads, but expats chat the reckless driving that gives the country the highest degree of deadliness of the road in the EU.

But the disadvantages are more than compensated by the benefits. With the economy that is less developed than in Britain, there is many opportunities, and Romanians are always warm and hospitable for British, surprised and flattered that we would choose to live in their country above our country of birth.

The number of British citizens who live in Romania is estimated in the low thousands.

As a result, the expat community in Bucharest is small and friendly and it is easy to integrate.

Most, like me, have no hurry to return home.