Opposite to what many Romanians like, lacking that spiteful ‘much ado’, woof woof and glitter on top or on the doorway, the Rembrandt is a standard of comfortable decency and of joyful, alas not sparkling style. Hosting 16 rooms which are simply impeccable and exquisitely (which does not stand for “overwhelming” or “glamorously”) furnished, the hotel is a gem in itself. I for one like the way they restored the property raised in 1925, granting it a touch of comfort and intimacy only rarely met in this city. Even as a visitor and not as a guest, I like spending an hour or two in their small, but warm and pleasant first floor Klein Bar. And I like that omnipresent copper touch, which takes one into another world as soon as he / she steps inside. Add here a location on Smârdan Street, in the Old Quarter, one of those merchant houses that are quite plentiful (but equally decaying) all around, and you are there: ”normality” the way it should be (somewhere else but here, thank Nanak for that), but this very way makes it all more interesting and appealing. And then, I reckon I enormously enjoyed the night when, while having a glass of wine with friends at the Klein, an elder foreigner approached us in English, saying there is nothing to see in Bucharest: he had been the hotel’s first customer, he had traveled to Romania for many years and he was reading Kaspar Schnetzler’s soap opera-fit “Das Gute”, therefore he knew. He had turned into a Romanian without noticing (it happens) or admitting it (that is bad, very bad though). And then people ask me why I love this city: it tickles, upsets, excites, torments and eventually it does change people. For good.
GPS - N44 25.937 E26 06.006
11 Smârdan, http://www.rembrandt.ro
