I used to think that the Arc de Triomphe was a registered French “brand” that only Paris had the right to brag about, until I stood north of Bucharest, on Kiseleff Road, in front of a lofty stone arch around which cars revolved just as they revolved around its Parisian brother. I scratched my head and wondered: Did the pilot make a mistake in the destination?

No one was wrong; Since the late nineteenth century, Bucharest has been called “Micul Paris,” and for good reason: an elite educated in France and returned fascinated by it, spoke French in their salons, and brought in French architects, so the streets widened and the facades became elegant. I walked along Calea Victoriei Street, full of curiosity, and stood in front of the Roman Athenaeum, designed by the Frenchman Albert Galleron, with its dome that seemed to be waiting for an orchestra to play at any moment.
As for the bow, its story is funnier than its appearance. Romania built it three times! The first, in 1878, was made of wood, made in haste, for one purpose only: for victorious soldiers returning from the Romanian War of Independence to pass under it. The second was in 1922, to celebrate victory in World War I and the coronation of King Ferdinand and Queen Marie, with a concrete structure and plaster decorations, but the plaster - as usual with great promises - did not last long and collapsed. The third time, the people learned their lesson, so they covered it with solid Deva granite, and it was inaugurated in its current form in 1936.

The owner of the design for the last two times is the architect Petre Antonescu, who left the study of law in his youth and traveled to study architecture in... Paris, of course! It is as if the French city not only inspired Bucharest, but also sent someone to build its arch with his own hands.

Because every title has its share of truth, the arch rises 27 metres, that is, about half the height of its Parisian brother, which is 50 metres, and within its legs there are stairs that ascend to a balcony at the top. A little bow for a little Paris; The calculation here is accurate and cannot be flattered.
Some cities do not just imitate those they love, but rather make the imitation a story that belongs to them alone.