Columnist Eleonore af Schaumburg-Lippe writes in her weekly column about life as an expat in Romania. This week she tells about how her life changed when she recently discovered her favorite sandwich shop had closed.

I still remember the day when I first came across the shop, it had just opened. I came strolling down Magheru and saw this newly opened shop with bread and sandwiches, a whole selection of good bread, I miss good, dark bread, and here I had suddenly bread paradise, it was a pure joyful feeling, like finding a special hidden treasure. So every day I would walk by on my way to work, happy about my newly found bread and sandwich supplier, I felt like birds where singing and the trees looked greener.

A part of the shop was outside, they played music there, and even if sometimes I just walked by, without buying anything, I would still enjoy singing along to the music, great classic hits, all from Abba, Queen, Whitney Houston, good sing along songs to start the day with.

But suddenly one day last week, again on my way to work, as I approach I could see a change, there were no chairs outside, there was no music in the air anymore, by that time I was hoping to see a sign saying 'closed for the summer'. But no, to my sadness, no, the shop was empty, all was  gone, and I realized my favorite sandwiches shop was closed. Nooo! Life is unfair, they didn’t even write a farewell letter, no goodbye sign on the entrance door, nothing indicating the end of fresh sandwiches. In sadness I walked by thinking I should have shopped there more often, blaming myself for having taken a different way to work the last days, even for working at home, it is my fault that the best sandwich shop in town is no longer here.

Am I ready to go searching for a new shop, will it be possible to find a new shop, will I ever get this crispy crunchy sandwich with fresh salad again? If I meet somebody from the old shop, while I am eating a sandwich from a new place, will I get the cold shoulder and feel the pain of now eating at a new place? Will I remember the days when life seemed so easy, when I had my morning routine on the direct road to my work, going in and asking for a sandwich? Sometimes I didn’t even have to ask, they knew me, they knew my favorite sandwich.

But all these 'why' and 'ifs' are not taking my anywhere, this is life, sandwich shops do close, it happens, and indeed there is a new shop for me out there, where I will again feel at home. Until then, I will go back to the covrigi shop, the one that has always been there for me. The traditional covrigi shop, I know it was wrong of me to upgrade and seek for sandwich instead of covrigi.

Please forgive me, my dear sandwich shop, thank you for the great times we shared. May your last sandwich rest in peace (and in my stomach), and may summer bring a new sandwich shop that again will brighten up my day! :)

By Eleonore af Schaumburg-Lippe, columnist

Eleonore is Danish, she holds a BA in Organization and Management and specializes in Corporate Communication & Strategic Development. She is also a Market Economist and a Multimedia Designer. She is currently working in Bucharest as the Executive Director of UAPR the Romanian Advertising Association. As a Danish Viking in Romania, with a great passion for ’covrigi’, she has a burning desire to find out more about Romania especially Bucharest, and enlighten the small differences in the culture between Denmark and Romania.. Her weekly columns will give you insights into an expats life in Bucharest written with humor and a big Danish smile.