Briefly considered for demolition, before the sheer cost of knocking it down was calculated, and deemed to be unviable, the Palace is now, perhaps to Nicolae and Elena’s eternal chagrin, the cynosure of democracy in Romania.
Yet, it is impossible not to feel that ghosts of Romania’s despotic past lurk in these dimly lit, endless corridors and vacated rooms.
Afterwards, still feeling giddy, I walk through Bucharest’s old town, alive with young Romanians drinking, dancing and cavorting around the streets, lined with restaurants such as Blank (inside an opulent former bank, now the Marmorosch Hotel, part of the Autograph Collection), which serve up oysters from New Zealand and Philly cheese steaks as well as creditable Romanian wines and a delicious take on traditional cabbage and cream soup.
Bucharest natives would have to be in at least their late 40s now to have any clear, first-hand memories of the Ceausescu regime. But as Diana, a 35-year-old off-duty waitress I speak to one evening, explains, nobody, thanks to the sheer size of their palace, can ever be ignorant of the Ceausescus, regardless of their age.
“I was only two months old when they were killed,” she tells me. “But my Mum always said that if my brothers and I weren’t good then Elena Ceausescu would come and get us in the night.”
Dracula’s myths are, mostly in today’s Romania, only of real interest to visitors. For Romanians, the true monsters, and the doomed Communist castle they built in the centre of the capital, remains a far more potent, ghostly presence.
Rob Crossan was a guest of Tui (tui.co.uk), which offers two-night city breaks to Bucharest, staying at the Novotel Bucharest City Centre on a room-only basis. Prices from £496 per person, based on two adults sharing a double room and including flights from Heathrow. Tui can also arrange private guided tours of the Palace of Parliament