I have no words to describe Vama Veche, but I will write down some paragraphs I’ve found in a confession of a nomad:
And yes, I’ll still decline even if you then explain that we would ride for three and a half hours in that car, heading to a small town on the Black Sea coast, where we would arrive, grab something quick to eat and then proceed to party all night long at bars and clubs on an overcrowded beach before collapsing onto the sand sometime after sunrise for an hour or two nap.
However, after surviving the drive to Vama Veche, there was I, enjoying an atmosphere that was far different than what I had imagined. This was no rowdy beach party. It was a laid-back, welcoming scene, with friendly vibes all around, laughter, smiles, live Romanian rock music on the beach, people of all ages and lifestyles mingling together and pints of beer being served in the streets for only $1.50 each.