Andrew Tate Wants to Buy a Crumbling Historic Hotel in Romania — But the City Wants It Too

The controversial influencer has his eye on a crumbling landmark in the heart of Transylvania. There’s just one problem: the city wants it too.

Andrew Tate toured Cluj-Napoca’s abandoned Hotel Continental this week as speculation grows over a possible purchase bid.

Andrew Tate — kickboxer, internet provocateur, self-described “Top G,” and now apparently aspiring hotel magnate — has set his sights on one of Cluj-Napoca’s most famous abandoned buildings: the long-shuttered Hotel Continental in the heart of the Romanian city’s historic center.

Tate and his brother Tristan were photographed Tuesday walking through Piața Unirii, Cluj’s grand central square, alongside lawyer Alexandru Rîșniță as they toured several properties, according to local outlet Clujust.ro. Among them was the Hotel Continental, a decaying but architecturally significant landmark that has sat largely empty for nearly two decades.

The building is no ordinary fixer-upper. Originally opened as Hotel New York at the end of the 19th century, the eclectic-style structure was designed by architect Lajos Pákey and once served as one of the city’s major social and cultural hubs. Literary cafés, political meetings, journalists, lawyers, and local elites once passed through its halls. During the communist era, parts of the building were repurposed as student housing.

Today, the facade has been partially restored, but much of the interior remains abandoned — a source of frustration and fascination for locals who have watched one of Cluj’s architectural crown jewels slowly deteriorate in plain sight.

Tate, speaking to Clujust.ro during the visit, suggested the hotel’s old name was part of the appeal.

“I believe it has some American origins,” he said. “I believe originally it was owned by an American man. I like to make history repeat itself, so I’m here to look at that.”

The hotel’s original “New York” branding appears to have been inspired by the American city rather than any actual US ownership connection. History, as it turns out, has been repeated in more rigorous ways.

According to Rîșniță, the brothers are interested in acquiring the property and potentially establishing a residence in Cluj-Napoca, Romania’s second-largest city and one of Eastern Europe’s fastest-growing tech and university hubs. The proposed redevelopment would reportedly include tourist accommodations as well as a penthouse residence for the brothers.

In fairness, the attraction is understandable. Cluj has become one of Romania’s wealthiest and most fashionable cities, drawing tech firms, students, startups, and investors while developing a reputation as a cleaner, wealthier, and more Western-facing alternative to Bucharest. Anyone who has sat in Bucharest traffic for more than fifteen minutes may sympathize.

But there is a major obstacle standing between Tate and his Transylvanian redevelopment ambitions: City Hall.

Mayor Emil Boc has publicly stated that the municipality wants to acquire the Hotel Continental if it is formally put up for sale, reportedly allocating around €24 million toward purchasing and preserving the historic property. Under Romanian law, public authorities may also hold preemption rights in the sale of protected historic monuments, potentially allowing the city to match or override a private offer.

The hotel is currently owned by a bankrupt company and has been valued in local reporting at roughly $30 million.

At this stage, it remains unclear whether the Tate brothers have submitted a formal offer or are simply exploring the possibility of a purchase. Their appearance in Cluj nevertheless generated immediate attention online, with local reactions ranging from amused curiosity to outright hostility.

One widely shared comment reportedly summed up the mood succinctly: “They don’t have the money for Cluj.”

That may have been less a financial assessment than a statement of civic pride. In recent years, Cluj’s booming real estate market has transformed the city into one of the most expensive urban centers in Central and Eastern Europe — and locals tend to guard its identity fiercely.

The Tate brothers remain under ongoing criminal investigation in Romania over allegations involving human trafficking and the exploitation of women. British authorities have also pursued separate investigations involving allegations of rape and sexual assault. The brothers have denied all wrongdoing.

A move to Cluj would represent a notable shift in image as well as geography — away from the hard-edged luxury branding associated with Bucharest and toward a city better known for universities, arts festivals, and startup culture. Whether that amounts to reinvention or merely relocation is another question entirely.

For now, the future of Hotel Continental appears to depend on several competing forces: a bankrupt owner seeking a buyer, a city government determined to keep a historic landmark in public hands, and two brothers who rarely enter a room quietly.

The Hotel Continental has survived Austro-Hungarian rule, two world wars, communist nationalization, and decades of abandonment. Whether it survives becoming part of Andrew Tate’s next act is the question now hanging over Cluj’s central square.

History, as Tate himself noted, has a habit of repeating itself.

Usually as tragedy. Sometimes as farce.