Whenever we finish a scene, I see him huddled with our hosts, investigating some new and unlikely business venture. In Baltimore, he became deeply involved in discussions about the embalming and funeral industries. At various times, he's threatened me with film making and memoir writing enterprises. (Working title, "Zamir: The Inside Story-Behind the Scenes With NO RESERVATIONS").

He's relentless about inquiring as to real estate values, pondering perhaps, the possibility of making homes available at distress sale prices to Russian oligarchs who might be considering vacation property in East Baltimore or Detroit. There was talk of moving undocumented Ukranian "casino entertainers" across the Canadian border, a fur-bearing perch farm, and drive-through organ harvesting ("We fly doctors in from Kazakhstan! Cash on the barrel, Tony! We can have your kidney out in minutes-and money in your pocket!").

I guess it takes a Russian to really appreciate the American Dream.

Some other surprises. I find, walking into Al-Ameer in Dearborn, that Zamir speaks very passable Arabic! He claims his military service as a technical advisor at a power plant in Iraq-back in Soviet times-required he learn the language. I'm not entirely convinced I buy that story. Maybe the Romanians were right about him.

And he has fans. The drunken debauch that was the Romania show, far from casting my Russian friend in a bad light, has apparently won him an international reputation as a party animal. Walking out of a club last night, he was mobbed. I stood there like a lox while a dazzled Zamir signed napkins, baseball caps and extremities of all kinds. He seemed very pleased at all the adulation. I know he's VERY pleased to still be alive after our snowmobile adventures yesterday. I drove-and those things can go fast. Topping out at 65 or 70, I'm sure my less than skillful New Zealand ATV handling came to mind. My ribs are still bruised from where his fingers dug into my sides.

I hope all the attention and all the times he's been recognized doesn't go to his head. He's already begun making demands which some might find ... unreasonable.

"Performance fleece-lined blue jeans for all outdoor scenes" "Red-and ONLY red M&M's to be available at all times."

"All furniture shall be draped in white-and floral arrangements shall conform exclusively to same color scheme."

"Talent is NOT to be looked at directly by service staff."

It's only a matter of time till he asks for a trailer.

But the fact is:

Things WERE fucked up. My Russian pal, Zamir, who had helped make such good shows in Russia and Uzbekistan, was definitely NOT a good choice to show me around Romania. I think, if nothing else, we made that explicitly clear.

The "Motel Dracula" was, in fact, just as bad a time as it looked. Maybe we fucked up picking that spot as something to cover. Though it's certainly representative of a resurgent, Dracula-based tourist industry. What we DID show you, at least, was exactly how awful it was--and how unhappy I was to be part of such a bogus scene.

The scene at Vlad The Impaler's statue in Bucharest was not atypical of the kind of "cooperation" and last-minute shakedowns we found whenever we tried to shoot at a "typical" everyday restaurant.

Even WITHOUT cameras, looking just for a relaxed meal, we'd often enter a near empty restaurant, ask if a table was available--and have the waiter tell us "No" in the surliest of terms. WITH cameras--asking if we could shoot was an invitation to either an instinctive "NO" or an invitation to gouging. As waiters and hosts it seems, work on salary--rather than tips, no one really seemed to care about more business, promoting their business or even making more money. People are still uncomfortable in general about being filmed. Understandable, given Romania's history that many would be reluctant to have their picture taken--as this rarely led to anything good back in the bad old days.

But to describe Romania as particularly friendly? Not really. I've been all over the world. Over 50 countries. On the friendly scale? Romania not exactly in the top 40. The food--on camera, off camera? Didn't matter. It was mostly pretty primitive. Soups may taste good--but they don't make interesting television. I could lie. But I ain't gonna.

Which is really what it's all about, isn't it? Should I--when faced with a show that's clearly going wrong--as far as depicting good times and good food--do my best to LIE about it? Put on my best, tightest smile and slog through an hour, yammering a lot of utter bullshit about what a great time I'm having and how good the food is and how friendly the people? You can see that on every other travel and food show. Or get it straight from the tap--at the Tourist Board. This show never pretended to have any responsibility to show the "best" of any place--or the "top ten" of anything. Or to even be diplomatic. I, me, Anthony Bourdain went to Romania. I made some bad decisions. And this is the show I came back with. At the end of the day? That's what happened. That's what it felt like. Period. Frankly? I think it's a pretty funny show.