Why should I go? Other cities of the former Eastern Bloc have edged west in character in the 18 years since communism’s demise. But Bucharest remains intriguingly close in spirit to Soviet Moscow, with a louche whiff of the Moulin Rouge. Its boulevards are garlanded with sooty belle époque masonry and neoclassicism. Its art-deco architecture is grimy yet groovy. Nightclubs can be dodgily hyphenated, cocktail bars have names like Go-Go and expats call it the Delhi of the West. (In fact, it’s more a collision of Istanbul and Paris, complete with a mini-me Arc de Triomphe, 90ft high, anchoring a sunburst of radial avenues.)

While you wouldn’t tick it off by tour bus as in, say, Rome, it’s a delicious Dietrich of a city to disappear into, neck cricked as another Addams Family mansion or Stalinesque edifice slides into view. Bucharest means clear beer in a stark spring park; flower boys selling snowdrop posies on the dirty steps to the subway; BMWs, bargain opera and the side-alley throb of a bar that’s edgy like Bowie-era Berlin. Go soon — Romania joined the EU in January, and, as they say of that other faded-fab communist capital, Havana, this city won’t remain as it is for long. What do I do? Mosey around the cobbled old Lipscani quarter — it’s shabbily, seductively atmospheric. There, glimpse nascent gentrification over beers at Amsterdam (Strada Covaci 6; daily, 10am-1am), a glossy-tabled gastropub. You may witness a baptism at the nearby Stavropoleos church, turtle-domed and patterned with icons. And you’ll see stars at the Palace of Parliament (Calea 13 Septembrie 1; daily, 10am-4pm; guided tours £4), high on its city-centre perch: the dictator Nicolae Ceausescu, who was executed in 1989, summoned hundreds of architects and thousands of workers to raise the Gotham-grand governmental pile. It’s an awesome totem to small-man syndrome, with 1,000 or so rooms, furlongs of Transylvanian marble and carpets weighing several tons.

On a lighter note, proceed to the George Enescu Museum (Calea Victoriei 141; Tue-Sun, 10am-5pm; 30p), where pencilled scores and other memorabilia unravel the composer in an art-nouveau mansion with a fabulously frilly facade. Next on the conveyor belt is a 19th-century Moldovan cheese press: at the Museum of the Romanian Peasant (Soseaua Kiseleff 3; Tue-Sun, 10am-6pm; £1.20), the curiosities include Transylvanian crucifixes, a whole village church and rustic fashions reminiscent of Kate Bush circa Babooshka.

When the sun shines, Bucharest is a walk in the park. Make for Herastrau Lake, north of Piata Charles de Gaulle. The greenery around it draws strollers, in-line skaters and young lovers interspersing snogs with slugs of cold lager in an open-air cafe.

Access all arias: a night at the Opera Nationala Bucuresti (Bulevardul Mihail Kogalniceanu 70-72; 00 40-21 314 6980, www.operanb.ro ) costs £5 for top tickets and world-class performances. On a somewhat slummier note, bars and clubs rock. Frame (Bulevardul Magheru 38b) feels like a last vestige of boho Manhattan: a backstreet legend, brick-walled and clubby, with DJ. Then try the landmark Studio Martin (Bulevardul Iancu de Hunedoara 41), in a hulking old cinema. The overheated crowd pulses like some B-movie blob until 5am.

Where do I stay? The InterContinental Bucharest (Bulevardul Nicolae Balcescu 4; 021 310 2020, www.intercontinental.com ; doubles from £232) is a skyline icon in brutalist pale concrete, inaugurated in 1971 and for years the city’s tallest building. Here, journalists had ringside seats for the unfolding 1989 revolution, and the corporate-chintzy suites possess big balconies for surveying the cupolas, spires and neon downtown whirl. Near Lipscani, the Rembrandt Hotel (Strada Smardan 11; 021 313 9315, www.rembrandt.ro ; doubles from £62) is as close as Bucharest gets to boutique: 16 rooms of masculine modernity (wooden floors, pure-white sheets). Or try Le Boutique Hotel Moxa (Strada Mihail Moxa 4; 021 650 5555, www.hotelmoxa.ro ; doubles from £125), styled in exposed brickwork and sherbet tones.

Where do I eat? Casa Doina (Soseaua Kiseleff 4; 021 222 3179; mains from £6.45) is upmarket Romanian, in a villa with carved-wood ceilings and fountained gardens. Try tripe soup with garlic sauce and cream. Balthazar (Strada Dumbrava Rosie 2; 021 212 1460; mains from £6.50) blends trendy button-back booths, ferns and high ceilings into calm exclusivity, with French-Asian food such as seafood soup with ginger and coconut milk. Or there’s Uptown Bar & Grill (Strada Rabat 2; 021 231 4077; mains from £4.60), serving Italian staples to expats in diner surrounds.

How do I get there? British Airways (0870 850 9850, www.ba.com ) and Tarom (020 7224 3693, www.tarom.ro/en ) fly to Bucharest from Heathrow; from £200. Wizz Air (www.wizzair.com ) flies from Luton; from £59. Trailfinders (0845 050 5940, www. trailfinders.com ) has flights from Manchester (with Lot, via Warsaw, from £203) and Glasgow (with KLM, via Amsterdam, from £216). Or try Ebookers (www.ebookers.com ).

Nick Redman travelled as a guest of British Airways and InterContinental

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