Chris Webber finds the city of Bucharest vibrant, but still emerging from the dead hand of Communism.

WE’VE been meandering around the heavy, gargantuan building that dominates Bucharest like a real house in Legoland for an hour and a half. Our guide has told us tale after astonishing tale of just what it cost the Romanian people to create this monument to megalomania, a civic building sarcastically referred to a ‘Ceausescu’s Palace,’ after the Communist dictator.

“You know how much of this building you’ve seen?” she asks our small crowd of foot-weary and mind-boggled tourists who have fought our way up three flights of stairs,“About three per cent… we’re not even at the first floor.”

The atmosphere of this place, officially called Palace of the Parliament, hangs over us like a dark, winter cloud. And yet it is fascinating, so much so that it’s tempting to write the whole feature on it. But that would be an injustice to this vibrant, fun city still awakening from the dead years of totalitarianism. Bucharest feels exciting and real. Not at all like this ponderous monstrosity of a building.

Still it is impossible to ignore and a must-visit, so here’s a few facts about the 'palace' which at least some websites list as the second largest public building in the world, after the Pentagon in the USA.

Ceausescu, the dictator who received a British knighthood, started the building in 1980 and about 40,000 families were displaced, losing their homes to make way for the monstrosity. The associated boulevard, which is admittedly pretty, had to be just a few centimetres longer and wider than the Champs Elysee. The authorities were so secretive that it’s not known how much it cost – although it is often described as the most expensive administrative building in the world. Nuns had to make and provide the vast curtains for free. The place has 1,100 rooms, many so badly designed, including the theatre room with no real stage, that they can’t even be used for stated purpose. Everything in the place had to be Romanian. Even silk worms were taken from China to breed in Romania. There’s an underground car park for 20,000 cars and various tunnels so vast that the Top Gear team raced under the building.

Many of the above facts are quirky, even fun. But this place is no joke. Our taxi driver and guide, a funny, jovial man, could not bring himself even to enter, leaving us at the door. “People starved to build that place,” he says, explaining that, even without really paying proper wages, it took 42 per cent of the country’s GDP to build. The country had to export more and more food to pay for this act of vanity. People went hungry.

After the heaviness of Ceausescu’s Palace it’s a relief to meet our taxi-driving guide again. He tells a couple of jokes from the Communist era. Jokes about queueing for bread and queueing to kill Ceausescu and forgetting which one you’re in and jokes about being forced to like cabbage. Then, tellingly, he tells a new one that reflects the growing wealth of this city; a happier malaise. This time the gag is about a man who crashes his Ferrari and loses his arm. Many people try to get him to go to hospital but all he can do is weep and wail for his car. “But you might die, you’ve lost your arm!” he’s told. The man stops for a second before crying even louder. “My Rolex!”

After the ponderous Ceausescu’s Palace it’s a relief to go the Village Museum; a pleasant, human place celebrating rural life and has cottages from different regions. Somewhere in the grounds of the museum lives Michael I, the 94-year-old old man who was once king who had to flee the country following the take-over of the country by the Russian-backed Communists following the Second World War. He often meets Prince Charles who has properties in the Transylvania region of the country.

We pop back to our base, the Athenee Palace Hilton, an internationally important hotel that bears of the scars of Romania’s turbulent, tragic 20th Century history and was a notorious den of spies. Opulent and central it can be, with a little nous, surprisingly affordable. Stay there if you can or at least pop in for a drink in the famous English Bar.

We eat comforting and delicious traditional Romanian food at the Hilton-owned yet cosy DoubleTree hotel with its view of the grand boulevard before wandering off into the old town, an area bristling with pubs, eateries, wine bars. It is young and exciting and reminds me cities like Newcastle but two or three decades ago. Not every shop is glitzy and we're taken to a beautiful city centre building filled with artists' studios instead of insurance company offices. There’s little drunkenness, no air of violence. It is fun (and cheap). We head to a simple, non-glitzy wine bar, Dyonisos Bar. Its owner, Radu Tudor, has a drier wit than our taxi driver but is just as funny, like many of these friendly Bucharest people. He tells of us of the (wonderful) wines of Romania as he plies us with drink. We begin to fancy ourselves wine experts and then remember we’re not and laugh at ourselves. It’s happy night ended by soaking up the atmosphere in the lively streets. Writing this several weeks later, the glow of the trip faded, I still can’t think of a happier place for a night out.

TRAVEL FACTS

The Hilton Athenee Palace Hotel is central and some online companies claim to be able to get last-minute booking rooms for £62 although standard rates range from £128 to £339. Rooms are cheaper (we found one on offer at £47) at the more modern and family friendly DoubleTree Hotel, also owned by the Hilton Company. Dine at the Double Tree Hotel’s Avantguarde Restaurant.