From a distance, I see many people sitting at outdoor tables at a cafe.
The air is cool, but the tables are in the sun.
I’m tempted to take a seat inside the cafe because ABBA’s Super Trouper is playing over the sound system.
The server says I may take a seat outside if I like; he will deliver my order.
I ask for coffee and cake.
He suggests a coffee using words I don’t understand, but I nod anyway and tell him that sounds good.
He suggests one of the three cakes on display, looks me up and down and asks me if I want two pieces.
We both laugh and I settle for one.
I barely have time to sit down outside before he is already serving me my coffee and cake.
He also provides me with an ashtray.
I look around and, yes, it seems that most people are smoking, some with a coffee, but most with either a beer or a glass of wine, though it is still morning.
My coffee is served with a plastic straw, so I think I might have agreed to an iced coffee.
But no, the glass cup is hot.
I take a sip (without the straw, thank you very much) and discover I’ve ordered a latte. Wonderful!
I’m sitting at the edge of a large plaza – the Romanian word is “Piața”, or “market” – with a church at one end.
There seems to be many students walking about carrying their shoulder bags and backpacks, and I wonder why until I see the building right beside me with the word Politehnica on it.
The buildings outlining the plaza seem to be apartments and are old but generally in good shape, except for one in particular that is mostly wrapped in green mesh for an overdo renovation.
There are still residents in the building, though, because I see balconies with potted plants and chairs, and most of the windows have curtains hanging in them.
I wonder what it looks like in these apartments, and I wonder what it would be like to live in one of them, overlooking the plaza, with several cafes only steps away.
I imagine I would like it very much.
