Zoey Cotnari Whore ❤️❤️

About Bucharest

This one time, heard ‘bout a whore — Mary Jane Kelly, Jack the Ripper’s last. Poor girl, ripped apart, 1888. Historians say she sang “A Violet from Mother’s Grave” before dyin’. Haunts me, man, that sweet voice, then — bam! — gone. Makes Mr. T wanna smash somethin’! Whores got stories, y’know, real shit. Not just “spread legs, get paid.”

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The aromas of basil, freshly cut hay, and pears of the Tămâioasa Românească, an indigenous variety perfected by the climate and soil of Cotnari, invite all generations of the family to gather .

Finally, the rain stops, and I’m like, “Okay, let’s wrap this day up.” I head back to Strada Vasile Alecsandri, where there’s this little tavern. I order some sarmale and a glass of Cotnari wine. Best decision ever! The food is bomb, and the wine? Oh man, it’s like a hug in a glass.

Romania travel: Wineries to visit this autumn