“But Ilan, do you remember what happened with that land in Romania?” Amir looked at me with worried eyes, holding a glossy brochure for an apartment project in Bucharest. “My father lost 70 thousand euros there in 2004. To this day he can’t hear the word ‘Romania’ without his blood pressure going up.”
We were sitting in my office, and the coffee was slowly going cold on the table. I knew that look. Amir wasn’t the first, and certainly won’t be the last, to come to me with that fear.
“Tell me,” I asked him, “what exactly did your father buy back then?”
“Agricultural land. Something like 50 dunams near some village. They told him it was going to be gold, that Romania was joining the European Union and everything would only go up. They promised him that within two years the land would be worth three times as much.”
“And what happened?”
“What happened?” Amir sighed. “The land stayed land. There was no zoning plan, no building permit. He found out there was some local law that stopped him from selling at all without special approvals. And then it turned out the documents weren’t entirely in order. In the end he sold at a 60% loss just to be done with it.”
“I remember that period,” I said. “2003–2008. Hundreds of Israelis bought agricultural land in Romania. It was a real epidemic. Dubious Israeli companies were selling dreams, not real assets.”
“So why do you think it’s different this time?” Amir asked, the scepticism clear in his voice.
I slid his brochure back across the table and took out documents of my own. “Because what you’re holding here isn’t agricultural land in the middle of nowhere. Look at the differences.”
“First, this is a finished apartment in a project that already exists, in the capital, Bucharest, in a popular district. Not land, not promises, not ‘coming soon’. A physical apartment you can fly out and see tomorrow.”
“Second,” I continued, “Romania today has been a full member of the European Union for almost 18 years. The legal system has stabilised. Registration at the land registry is computerised and orderly. There is a clear legal chain of title.”
Amir began listening more closely.
“Third, and most important – look at the legal difference. In the early 2000s, foreigners couldn’t buy agricultural land in Romania at all. True, you could set up a fully owned company, but that was exactly part of the problem – Israeli companies that existed only on paper, with no real office, no local presence and, above all, no understanding of the local laws. And the agricultural land? It was subject to draconian restrictions on rezoning, on sale, on everything.”
“And today?” Amir asked.
“Today the situation is completely different. True, Israelis still can’t buy the land itself – for now that remains limited to Romanians. But when you buy an apartment, you acquire the apartment itself in full ownership, and the proportional share of the land stays with the development company or in trust. That sounds scary, right?”
Amir nodded warily.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” I smiled. “We’ve developed sophisticated legal mechanisms that protect the Israeli buyer. There are long-term use agreements, protected contractual rights and, above all, we work only with well-known, reliable development companies that won’t vanish on you overnight. The difference between this and buying agricultural land through a shell company? Night and day.”
“But how do I know the ownership is clean?” he asked.
“That’s exactly why you need legal support. We check the ownership history, make sure there are no liens or charges, examine the building permit, translate all the documents and make sure the registration is in order. In the 2000s, nobody did that. People bought on the strength of Hebrew presentations in a hotel.”
I took out another file. “Look, here’s a client of mine who bought an apartment in Bucharest three years ago, near Herăstrău Park. He rents it to young people who work in tech, gets stable rent, and the value has gone up since. Why? Because we bought right, in the right location, with the right management.”
Amir leaned back. “So you’re saying my fear isn’t justified?”
“No, your fear is completely justified – if you make the same mistakes your father made. But if you make an informed investment, with professional support, in a real asset and not in promises, then you’re investing in a completely different country. The Romania of 2025 is a growing economy with an expanding middle class, a thriving tech sector, and rental returns we in Israel can only dream of.”
He looked at the brochure again, this time with different eyes.
“Tell me something, Ilan. Why aren’t you afraid of Romania yourself?”
I smiled. “Because I don’t invest in memories from 2005. I invest in the market of 2025, with the tools of 2025. And the difference? It’s huge.”
The Romania of 2025 is not the Romania of 2005. Dubious agricultural land has given way to finished apartments in major cities, an unstable country has become an EU member of 18 years’ standing, and the real difference lies in professional support that turns legal challenges into a protected, worthwhile opportunity.
Because history doesn’t repeat itself – but mistakes do. Let’s make sure you’re on the right side of the equation.
This story first appeared in Ilan Leibovitch's weekly LinkedIn column, "Two International Real Estate Stories a Week", issue of 22.11.2025, in Hebrew. Yield percentages mentioned in the original were removed from this version.
More stories: Development, building and finance
- Story 46The €120,000 Mistake I Almost Made in Romania (and How One Phone Call Saved My Investment)
- Story 39Where is it best to invest – Greece? Portugal? Bucharest?
- Story 47Between Two Worlds: The Developer’s Dilemma
- Story 38“Trust me, bro”? Not abroad: what developers must understand before investing overseas
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This story is general information, not legal, tax or financial advice. Every deal is different; consult professionals before deciding.

