After today's continous journey I finally made it back to Bucharest. Although I was considering sidetrips to Halmyris and/or Istria still, in the end I went straight back - thinking that I'm done adventuring and that it's time to just go home. Even considering of pulling my flight forward a few hours.
It's funny to notice how quickly a mood can change. After having checked in to the closest option for accomodation (a very quaint hostel with old British men and whole family albums up on the walls) and chilling in the kitchen with a cup of tea I felt some energy returning. Why go home early, and settle for dinner in McDonald's while I'm still in Bucharest - the city that positively surprised me only a few days ago? Or had that suddenly changed?
Starting the long walk into the city where L. had shown me around extensively on the weekend I could see again why I enjoyed it so much. The roughness, the unpretensiousness, the feeling of being alive - it's all there. It's definitely not a 'pretty' or 'nice' city but it's worth getting to know I think.
P.S. But not in the middle of summer - it'll be awful with 30/35C temperatures, too muggy, dirty, dusty.