Adrian Pascu-Tulbure

The virtual battle between bikes and cars

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The role of the private car in Communist societies would make the subject of a lovely thesis. In brief: only Hoxha’s Albania managed to ban them completely, in a move judged too restrictive by Pyongyang and Beijing. In the ‘freer’ states in Eastern Europe, choice wasn’t great, but the car was seen, and advertised, as a symbol of liberty and the good life. And, even under the bleakest years of Stalinism, communist newspaper Pravda (or Izvestia) would recount how Ivan or Vladimir, having worthily toiled away in farm or factory, was now the proud possessor of his own Moskvich.

Kate Andrews, Mark Galeotti, Adrian Pascu-Tulbure, Michael Hann and Olivia Potts

From our UK edition

31 min listen

On this week’s Spectator Out Loud: Kate Andrews examines the appointment of Scott Bessent as US Treasury Secretary (1:20); Mark Galeotti highlights Putin’s shadow campaign across Europe (7:10); Adrian Pascu-Tulbure reports on the surprising rise of Romania’s Calin Georgescu (15:45); Michael Hann reviews Irish bands Kneecap and Fontaines D.C. (22:54); and Olivia Potts provides her notes on London’s Smithfield Market, following the news it may close (27:28).  Produced and presented by Patrick Gibbons.

The rise of Romania’s right-wing disruptor

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Strange things are happening again in global politics. In Romania, a former UN sustainability adviser who has made admiring remarks about the fascist 1930s Iron Guard movement has just won the first round of the presidential elections. If you like Andrew Tate, the notorious ‘manosphere’ influencer who also happens to be a Romanian resident, you’ll love Calin Georgescu. A trim 62-year-old former national judo champion, he likes to post videos of himself swimming in ice on TikTok. ‘I believe in my immune system because I have faith in my creator,’ he says. He’s a Putin admirer who ran on an explicitly anti-Nato, anti-EU and anti-Ukrainian platform.

The joy of hiring an old banger

From our UK edition

There is always much to look forward to on a holiday with friends in France (the day one supermarket sweep, boules under plane trees, foie gras on demand); but, for me, one of the greatest joys is the hire car. That’s entirely due to my indulging in the niche pastime of driving around in the worst, most clapped out vehicle possible. You can do this quite easily in France using an Airbnb-style platform called Turo which allows you to go directly to the – usually bemused – owner and, for not very much money, drive off in whatever they have to offer you. And so it was that I found myself this summer burbling down vineyard-flanked routes départementales in a 32-year-old, one-litre Peugeot with paint flaking off and every panel dented.