01 The fourth of March, 1977

All of this has a date. On 4 March 1977, an earthquake centred in the Vrancea area, some hundred and thirty-five kilometres from the capital, caused around fifteen hundred deaths in Bucharest and left more than a thousand buildings in critical condition. It was not a local tremor: it was a deep earthquake whose waves travel well and find, on this plain, soft ground that amplifies them.

What suffered most was neither the oldest buildings nor the newest, but a specific band: multi-storey blocks put up before modern seismic codes existed. Precisely the ones that give shape to the centre people visit today.

Facade of an early twentieth-century eclectic building on Calea Victoriei, with render falling off, rusted iron balconies, air-conditioning units and graffiti at street level.
An early twentieth-century building on Calea Victoriei, unrenovated: fallen render, rusted balconies and shuttered units. This is the building type the classification is about.Neoclassicism Enthusiast / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0·CC BY-SA 4.0

02 What the circle actually says

The official classification sorts buildings into four seismic risk classes. Class I is the most severe: it means risk of collapse in a strong earthquake. Buildings in that category carry a visible marker on the facade, a red circle with the class number, placed near the entrance so anyone can read it from the pavement.

The figures give the scale of it. Some 374 buildings are officially classified in class I, together accounting for around 2,700 dwellings, and 184 of those are considered a hazard to the public street. These are not abandoned ruins: the overwhelming majority are lived in, and there are shops open on their ground floors.

03 Why they are where they are

The distribution is not random and explains a lot about the city. Class I buildings cluster in the historic core and along Magheru and Kogălniceanu boulevards, plus quarters such as Armenească, Moșilor and Știrbei Vodă. Which is to say, exactly where the pre-war fabric survives: the eclectic villas, the interwar blocks, the streets of «little Paris».

That overlap is what turns the figure into more than a statistic. The most beautiful part of the centre and the most fragile part of the centre are, to a large extent, the same. Any decision about what to do with those buildings is simultaneously a heritage decision and a safety decision, and that is why the work advances slowly.

A freshly restored pale stone facade on Calea Victoriei, with giant Corinthian pilasters, arcades at street level and carved garlands beneath the windows.
A building on the same street, already refurbished. The contrast between this one and the previous is the real state of the centre: patched building by building.Neoclassicism Enthusiast / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0·CC BY-SA 4.0

04 What tends to be misread

The first misreading is literal: many people see the circle and take it for a listed-building badge, a heritage plaque or a works notice. It is the opposite of an honour. And because it is printed on a small disc, it is easily lost among the plates, doorbells and shop signs.

The second is deeper. It is tempting to read the state of the centre as neglect or indifference, and it is not quite that: it is the result of a technically and legally very hard problem. Strengthening an occupied residential building with dozens of separate owners and heritage protection is slow and expensive in any country. Knowing that changes how you look: what seems like carelessness is, in many cases, a stalled file.

It is not a warning for the tourist. It is a warning for the people who live inside, and it is placed where everyone can read it.

A two-storey early twentieth-century villa on Magheru Boulevard, with corner turrets and worn render, wedged between two modern blocks with shops below.
A turn-of-the-century villa wedged between blocks on Magheru: the boulevard where a good share of the classified buildings cluster.Neoclassicism Enthusiast / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0·CC BY-SA 4.0

05 How to look at a street knowing this

Four things that change the walk
  1. Look down to the doorway
    The marker sits near the entrance, at eye height, not up on the cornice. Once you spot the first one, you start seeing them everywhere.
    at eye height
  2. Compare two doorways in a row
    On the same block there is usually one refurbished building and one untouched. That alternation is the real state of the centre, better than any figure.
    the contrast tells
  3. Do not confuse ruin with risk
    A building with an immaculate facade may be classified, and one with render falling off may not be. The classification measures structure, not appearance.
    structure, not facade
  4. Think about who lives there
    Behind almost every one of those doorways there are residents. The marker is not there to illustrate your walk: it is there to inform them.
    ~2,700 dwellings

Knowing this should not frighten anyone or change a trip's plans: the risk is statistical and long-term, not an alert for the next few days. What does change is understanding. A street in central Bucharest stops being a run of pretty, neglected facades and becomes what it actually is: a public inventory of a problem the city neither hides nor has finished solving.

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Lucía Montes

Worth Knowing editor — Meaning & Cultural Context · Flowtravel

Lucía Montes interprets the cultural meanings that make a travel experience make sense.