Wednesday 27 June 2018

Moldova (4): Transnistria, a Day Out in a Non-existent Country

Transnistria: A Hankering After the Good Old Days of the Soviet Union or a Model for Brexit?

What and Where is Transnistria?

After three days in Moldova we set off for a day out in Transnistria. As the geography of Moldova is not generally well-known (and that may be an understatement), here is a map.

The position of Moldova in Eastern Europ

All the Moldovan posts have contained versions of that map, but it does not mention Transnistria, so here is another map.

Moldova and Transnistria (or Transdniestria)

The officially unrecognised Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic, aka Transnistria, is a 400km long strip of land across the River Dniester from Moldova (de facto) or from the rest of Moldova (de jure). It achieved independence after a five month long war with Moldova in 1992.

That answers ‘where’ and ‘what’, ‘why’ is more complicated and is appended at the end of the post.

Crossing the Transnistrian Border

Transnistrian national flag

Driving south-east for an hour or so brought us to the border outside Bender. Since the July 1992 ceasefire agreement, Russians control the buffer zone; N is unworried by that, seeing them as guarantors of continued peace. Russian officers with caps the size of dinner plate strolled around looking reassuringly relaxed.

Formalities took place in a portable wooden office. We completed a basic form, showed our passports and were given permission to enter (ie a slip of paper to be surrendered on leaving). Not being internationally recognised, Transnistria did not stamp our passports.

Bender

It was quick and low key, the process being identical for N and Leonid. Leonid drove us the short distance into the city, parking within view of the second biggest grain silos in Transnistria (tourist attractions are few and far between!).

Sheriff supermarket - and those grain silos, Bender

The Transnistrian Rouble (or Ruble)

Money-changing, N informed us, is on the top floor of the supermarket opposite. We then had a memorable discussed about how much we would need. ‘You will want lunch,’ N had said, ‘a souvenir, maybe a fridge magnet, and you might like to send some postcards, $10 should be enough.’ Those may not have been her precise words, but that was the precise number. ‘10 US dollars each?’ I repeated, wondering if that could possibly be enough. ‘No, $10 between you.’ ‘Including lunch and a beer?’ ‘Yes.’

One Transnistrian Rouble - a currency unrecognised outside this small non-country - is worth almost exactly the same as a Moldovan leu so 10 US dollars bought a little over 150 Roubles. N showed us some Transnistrian coins, multi-sided plastic tokens, straight out of a toybox.

One Transnistrian Rouble (worth about 5p)
Alexander Suvarov (more later) on the front, the WW2 Chitcani Monument on the back

Шериф (Sheriff). Who Runs Transnistria?

The supermarket is one of a chain belonging to ‘Sheriff’, a company, founded in 1993 by two former members of the special forces. Sheriff also owns (among other things) TV and radio stations, a publishing house, a mobile phone network, an advertising agency, a construction company, a distillery and several bakeries. Transnistria is a democracy, of sorts, but leading members of the government and their relations have senior positions in Sheriff, and vice versa and with their newspapers, TV and radio stations the company can influence both the elections and the elected.

Bender's Military Historical Complex

Outside the supermarket is Bender’s triumphal arch (see A Collection of Arcs de Triomphe). There were 12 Russo-Turkish Wars, starting in 1568-70 and finishing with the First World War which finished both the Ottoman and Russian Empires. The Arch commemorates the Russian capture of Bender Fort in 1806 but was originally erected in Chişinău and was destroyed, with much else, in 1944; this is a 2008 replica. The major result of the 1806-12 war was the Russian Empire’s gain of Bessarabia (approximately Moldova and Transnistria), so the arch is a message, or warning, from the Russian orientated Transnistrians to the Moldovans and their European ambitions.

The Arch of Bender

The nearby Military Historical Memorial complex, also dating from 2008, is guarded by a statue of Grigory Potemkin. Later rather upstaged by the battleship that bore his name (films have much to answer for), Potemkin rose from relatively humble beginnings to become the commander-in-chief of all Russian land and sea forces, and the lover of Catherine the Great. Locally, he commanded the Russian forces in two successful wars against the Ottoman Empire (1764-74 and 1787-92) and was governor of South Russia.

Grigory Potemkin, Military Historical Complex, Bender

The military graveyard beyond contains the remains of soviet soldiers who died in the Great Patriotic War (or World War II, as we call it)…

Military Historical Complex, Bender

…but there is also a memorial to 489 victims of the 1992 war with Moldova.

Memorial to those who died in the 1992 Moldovan War, Bender

Bender Fort

A short drive took us to Bender fort.

Stephen III (the Great and Holy) of Moldavia (a rather larger principality than modern Moldova) built a wooden fort at Tyagyanyakyacha in the 15th century as a defence against Tartar raiders. The Ottoman Sultan Suleyman the Magnificent took the town in 1538, renaming it Bender, which remains its official monicker, though it is know as Bendery in Russian and Ukrainian and Tighina in Romanian (if it was my choice, I would go with Tighina!). The stone fort is of 16th Ottoman origin.

The Russians attempted to take the fort several times in the endless series of Russo-Turkish Wars, succeeding in 1779, 1786 and 1806 (and losing it in between).

Bender Fort

Baron von Münchhausen was an officer of the besieging Russian Army in the 1735-9 war. After retirement he became a minor celebrity by telling outrageously tall tales of his military exploits. Even more exaggerated tales appeared in fictional form but the author (now known to be Rudolf Erich Raspe) used Münchhausen’s real name so could never claim authorship for fear of a law suit. Other stories by other authors were later added to the oeuvre.

Baron von Munchhausen

The Russians wanted to know Ottoman plans, so von Munchhausen welded a seat onto a cannon ball and had himself fired across the River Dniester and into the castle. After a little spying he fired himself back. The cannonball is on display beside von Munchhausen’s bust.

Lynne and von Munchhausen's cannonball, Bender Fort

We walked past busts of the Great and the Good of Imperial Russia…

A sample of the Great and the Good of Imperial Russia, Bender Fort

...and entered the fort.

Entering Bender Fort

There is little inside except a small museum (with a large school party).

Inside Bender fort

The gatehouse…

Gatehouse, Bender Fort

…was open. In Ottoman times the first floor was a mosque and the mihrab can still be seen…

The ghost of the mihrab of the ottoman mosque, gatehouse, Bender Fort

While the top - effectively a minaret - provides views across the Dniester to von Munchhausen’s firing position…

Von Munchhausen fired himself from just the other side of the River Dniester

…the new church behind…

The new church behind Bender Fort

…and down into the Russian military base.

Russian base, Bender Fort. It is not very interesting, but you rarely get a chance to photograph the inside of a Russian base

Bender's Old Railway Station

Bender’s former railway station is not far away. Вокзал (Voksal) is Russian for station, the word derived, in a roundabout way, from London’s Vauxhall Pleasure Gardens, while Гара (Gara – like the French ‘Gare’) is Romanian written in Cyrillic. Romanian is a romance language; in Moldova they have reverted to writing it in Latin script, not so in Transnistria.

Here we are outside Bender's old railway station

The interior is evocative of its era…

Inside Bender's old station

…and outside there is a pleasing old train, but as a tourist attraction it needs some work.

Steam train, Bender station

We left Bender across the Dniester bridge. According to international law Transnistria is really part of Moldova, while Bender, on the Moldovan side of the river is really, really part of Moldova, except, despite what Google maps might say, it isn’t. During the 1992 war the Moldovans sent their three MiGs to bomb the very bridge we crossed trying to prevent Russian and separatist forces reaching Bender. They missed, which was fortunate; only 25% of Bender’s citizens are ethnic Moldovans while Russians and Ukrainians make up 68%; if they had succeeded the war would have been longer, the bloodshed greater.

Tiraspol

Tiraspol is 10km to the east. With 133,000 citizens it is slightly bigger than Bender and was once Moldova’s second largest city, now it is the capital of Transnistria.

25th of October Street is slightly shabby, slightly down at heel. I had not realised how the sight of someone carrying a heavy shopping bag has become so unusual at home - it makes this look like a picture from the past.

25th of October Street, Tiraspol

Beside it are more war memorials, one for the Afghan War….

Afghan War Memorial, Tiraspol

….and another for the Moldovan War.

Moldovan War Memorial, Tiraspol

While across the street is very different memorial, even celebration, of that conflict.

Tank monument to the Moldovan War, Tiraspol

The sign marking 28 years of Transnistria (first erected to mark the 25th anniversary and updated annually) resembled half-hearted Soviet era propaganda…

Commemorating 28 years of Tansnistria
See 'Why is there a Transnistria' to discover why this sign uses 1990 instead of 1992

…while the expression of love for Tiraspol was half-hearted western crassness.

I love Tiraspol

I read (somewhere?) that Transnistria was a shrinking, aging and impoverished society waiting faithfully for the return of the Soviet Union. ‘25th of October Street’ (the date of the 1917 Russian Revolution) and the statue of Lenin outside the parliament building suggests there is some truth in that…

Lenin outside the Transnistrian Parliament
(To avoid any confusion, Lenin is the bloke on the pillar, I'm the one wearing shorts)

…and Transnistria is the last country in the world with the hammer and sickle on its flag (see top of post). But Transnistria is not communist, it is a flawed democracy (maybe a mobocracy). Prince Grigory Potemkin guards the Military Historical complex while busts of worthies of the Russian Empire adorn Bender Fort. And it is Generalissimo Alexander Suvarov, founder of Tiraspol, and fighter of the Turks on behalf of Catherine the Great whose face is on the money. An equestrian statue of Suvarov stands in its own square by 25th of October street.

General Suvarov galloping towards a pedestrian crossing, Tiraspol

And if the hammer and sickle looks a bit dated. Transnistria has a secondary flag. You could so easily mistake for the Russian flag, the same coloured stripes in the same order, but the aspect is different, it is a tad longer and a smidgeon thinner - so totally different really.

Transnistria's other flag

As we walked through the back streets towards N's recommended restaurant she said ‘It is like the old Soviet Union, there is a sense of community. Nobody has much but they all help each other.’ We had encountered nostalgia for the Soviet Union on our Trans-Siberian trip in 2007 (particularly from Sacha in Listvyanka) but we had not expected it from a well educated young woman (N was 11 when the Soviet Union folded) who hoped her country will one day join the European Union (and was at a loss to understand why we had voted to leave.) Had she picked this up from her mother, once a leading member of the local communist party, or just fallen for the usual guff about the ‘good old days’?

Backstreets of Central Tiraspol

Parallels between Transnistria and Brexit

Either way, her remark, and the Transnistrian’s contradictory reverence for both the Soviet Union and the Russian Empire helped me understand their position. Like Brexit voters they are hankering after a past that never was and are perversely trying to invent it. Fortunately, they have the Russians to bail out their faltering economy. We have no one.

N’s father, if I might digress a little, was a football coach – indeed he still is, feeling no need to retire. Transnistria has two professional clubs, FC Tighana in Bender and Sheriff Tiraspol (I wonder who owns them?). Both play in the Moldovan League, indeed Sheriff Tiraspol have won it 17 times this century (leaving little for anyone else) and have reached the group stage of the Europa League on four occasions, but have yet to progress further. Like Brexiteers, Transnistrians want the advantages of being inside while remaining outside; unlike Brexiteers they have had some success. Most Transnistrians also have Moldovan citizenship, others Russian or Ukrainian, many have multiple citizenships. Not unlike the Brexit rush for Irish passports.

A Lunch of Dumplings

The unnamed restaurant was in a rambling wooden building with heavy beams, booths hidden away in semi-darkness and staff in traditional costume. We ate pelmeni, Russian spherical dumplings of minced beef with a cheese sauce, and pierogi (aka vareniki) Ukrainian pillow shaped dumplings stuffed with sauerkraut and sprinkled with fried onions. We shared the bowls which may have done little for our ‘five a day’ but were tasty, less heavy than they sound and were under our $10 budget. We might have been pushed if we had paid for our beer (a ½ litre of good quality draught beer was 50 pence) but N and Leonid kindly donated a couple of tokens earned on a previous overnight trip. The date stamp ran out today and they were working.

Lunch in Tiraspol

Afterwards we strolled through wide, scruffy streets,....

Strolling the streets of Tiraspol

...acquiring a fridge magnet, postcards, and Transnistrian stamps plus, as they are not recognised outside Transnistria, some Moldovan stamps - and we still had 4 or 5 roubles over! Shops were not easy to find, they hardly bother with signs or marketing – like the good old Soviet days – but they were there. And that was about it for Tiraspol..

Bender Fort on a Transnistrian fridge magnet

Back in Chişinău

Our return journey was uneventful, leaving Transnistria being even easier than entering. Back in Chişinău, we said goodbye to N who had been an interesting and informative companion, went shopping for presents and watched Sweden beat Mexico in the World Cup.

We dined at the ‘Robin Pub’ near our hotel…

Robin Pub, Chisinau

…. another establishment featuring dark wood, but this time elegant rather than rustic – pity there were so few customers. I enjoyed my pork with sour cream and mustard sauce, apple and fried potatoes, and Lynne her tagliatelle and mushrooms. We had another good value bottle of red and then, as it was our last night, an espresso and brandy. Moldova is proud of it brandy (divin in Romanian) and earlier N had recommended ‘Surprise’ a ten-year-old distilled by KVINT (owned by Sheriff!) in Tiraspol. It was undoubtedly the best brandy I have ever drunk that was not Cognac.

Coffee and 'Surprise' Brandy in the Robin Pub, Chisinau

And Back Home

Next morning Leonid took us to the airport where we bought some ‘Surprise’ [it tasted as fine back home as in Moldova].

KVNT Suprise 10-year-old Divin

When booking I had wondered if it was possible to fill a daily flight from Stansted to Chişinău. During the World Cup it certainly was – Chişinău is a gateway to Russia. The flight had been packed with England fans on the way out, Peruvians and Chileans on the way back – we wished them well for their onward journey - our long drive back to Staffordshire was tiny by comparison.



Why is there a Transnistria?

Below is a simplified version of how Transnistria came to be what it is.

In 1812 Moldova (including Transnistria) was ceded to the Russian Empire by the Ottomans. The area was largely Romanian speaking and attempts to Russify it met with only partial success.

In the chaos following the Russian revolution, Moldova west of the Dniester joined Romania while Transnistria became part of the new Soviet Union, becoming more Russified as industrialisation dragged in Russian and Ukrainian workers.

After World War II Moldova was also absorbed into the Soviet Union, the Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic having the same borders as current Moldova (including Transnistria). Transnistria, though, remained somewhat apart. Russians were the largest ethnic group and together Russophone Russians and Ukrainians formed a majority of the population.

In 1990 before the Soviet Union broke up, Transnistria declared itself a separate Soviet Socialist Republic as a pre-emptive strike against growing Moldovan nationalism. However, the Moldova that became independent in 1991 included a reluctant Transnistria. The immediate adoption of Romanian as the only official language provoked Transnistria to declare independence as the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic. A brief war (March-July 1992) caused 700 deaths, but once the Russian 14th Guards, stationed in Tiraspol, joined the separatists the result was inevitable.

According to international law the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic does not exist. Transnistria, Russian inspired Georgian breakaways Abkhazia and South Ossetia, and The Republic of Artsakh once an Armenia speaking enclave in Azerbaijan, all recognise each other’s independence, but no one else does. Although Russia has annexed Crimea and is working on Eastern Ukraine, it has supported but not, as yet, absorbed Transnistria, Abkhazia or South Ossetia.

Tuesday 26 June 2018

Moldova (3): Orheiul Vechi and the Cricova Winery:

Moldova

Orheiul Vechi

After breakfast N arrived with her driver Leonid and we set off for Orheiul Vechi 60km north of Chişinău.

As the geography of Moldova is not generally well-known (and that may be an understatement), here is a map.

Orheiul Vechi is 60km north of the capital
We drove for an hour through flat agricultural land, seeing very little in the way of settlements.

Our destination was Orheiul Vechi (Old Orhei) – modern Orhei is 15km further north - a medieval city at the western extreme of the lands of the Turkicised Mongols known as the Golden Horde.  It was left in ruins in 1362 by the Tartars and what was left was burnt by marauding Crimean Tartars in 1506. Very little remains of the city, but its former site is a major attraction, Orheiul Vechi being dubbed the ‘Grand Canyon of Moldova’. That might be an overstatement; Moldova is not big on topography and any deviation from ‘flat’ is a cause of excitement, but it is a remarkable place.

Like the Grand Canyon there is little warning of what is to come as you roll through the flat Arizona desert or the lush, green Moldovan countryside. ‘We are there,’ N announced in a spot which looked like any other. ‘Leonid knows a special viewpoint,’ she added as Leonid pulled off the highway onto a grassy track. After bumping along for a couple of hundred metres we reached Leonid’s viewpoint – and indeed it was special.

The little River Răut describes an ‘S’ on its way to the River Dniester and has scoured itself into the surrounding high ground until finding hard rock. The result is like nothing we had seen before, the angles and curves so perfect it is difficult to believe they are entirely natural.

Orheiul Vechi
The viewpoint overlooks the smaller, tighter southern meander with the village of Butuceni lying to the right of a lower central ridge topped by an eroded footpath to the distant Orheiul Vechi Monastery.

Before heading into Butuceni we went to look into the northern meander…

Looking over the larger meander, Orheiul Vechi
….and over the larger village of Trebujeni and its distinctive yellow church with blue onion domes.
 .
Trebujeni
Our viewpoint had once been a Mongol fort….

N and Lynne walk back to the car across all that remains of the Mongol fort, Orheiul Vechi
….and as we descended to the river to enter Butuceni we passed the remains of their baths.


Mongol Baths, Orheiul Vechi

Butuceni


At the entrance to Butuceni is a small museum. There is not much to see, but they also sell a few handicrafts and the enterprise employs four women within their own village. We walked down the main street....


Butuceni
…to an old thatched cottage…

Thatched cottage, Butuceni
…set out to recall the life of times past.

Life in times past, Butuceni
Traditional embroidered shirts are still worn by men and women and can be seen even on the streets of Chişinău, though maybe they are now factory produced rather than individually hand-embroidered.

Embroidered shirts in the thatched corrgae, Butuceni

The Orheiul Vechi Hermit


Leaving the cottage, we climbed the ridge running down the centre of the meander.


On the path up to the central ridge above Butuceni
On the top there is a small bell tower…

The bell tower (and cross on the right) and a view of the much higher surrounding bank 
and a cross.

Cross on the ridge above Butuceni

Nearby a tunnel leads to a chapel hollowed out of the rock.

Hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vechi
The resident hermit did not welcome us, nor did he seem to resent our presence, he largely ignored us and carried on with his routine. The small cell at the back of the chapel equipped with a blanket and pillow did not look particularly comfortable, but it was an improvement on the bare cells in the next chamber. No one lives there now, but occasionally they provided shelter to travellers trapped in the village by bad weather.

Hermit's cells, Orheiul Vechi
N said that the man used to be an engineer and lived in Odessa with a wife and children. Always religious, he went on a retreat and discovered he had the vocation to be a hermit. How his family reacted to this news I can only guess. He duly found his way to Orheiul Vechi where he lives a simple life but claims not to be a proper hermit as he goes to the monastery for lunch every day.

A hole in the far side of the chapel led onto a ledge above the River Răut. There was, N said, an entrance here once, but it collapsed in an earthquake so it is now just a photo op.

On the ledge outside the hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vchi
Back inside we distracted the hermit long enough to buy a candle. Lynne likes to light a candle in these circumstances, whether those in her prayers benefit from the process is a moot point, but it can do no harm.

Lynne lights a candle, hermit's chapel, Orheiul Vechi


Orheiul Vechi Monastery


Leaving the hermit to his own company, we followed N towards the monastery further up the ridge.

Following N towards Orheiul Vechi Monastery 
I am not sure how old the monastery is but the buildings are modern. There are only half a dozen monks, young men who were chatting and working outside.

Orheiul Vechi Monastery
Inside the brightly painted church, signs assured us that Christ had risen, but that we must not cross the barrier – my Romanian must be improving.

Orheiul Vechi Monastery Church
Piles of printed sheets were available for visitors to take away, each one detailing a sin worthy of exclusion from paradise - pornography, swearing, pride, crossing barriers and more. They were only in Romanian (and my Romanian has not really improved that much) so we contented ourselves with a graphic depiction of the Judgement, Heaven and Hell.

Judgement, heaven and hell, Orheiul Vechi Style

Lunch in the 'Butuceni Eco-Resort'


Returning to the village, we walked to the rather grandly title Butuceni Eco-Resort. Full of restaurant and B&B signs, the village is geared up for the tourist hordes, but on this sunny Tuesday morning there had been no one but us.

The main street of Butuceni and the entrance to the 'eco-resort'
The ‘Eco-Resort’ was a couple of freshly painted village houses.

Butuceni Eco-Resort
We sat in the courtyard and lunched on coffee and apple tart (tartă de mere) – or was it apple cake (prăjitură cu mere). The apple is a humble and generally unexciting fruit, but sometimes, in a well- made French apple tart (tarte aux pommes), Portuguese apple cake (bolo de maçã) or Dorset apple cake it reaches unexpected heights. I will happily add this Moldovan tart (or cake) to my list of apple delights.

Lynne and a Moldvan apple cake (or tart), Butuceni Eco-Resort
All around was a frenzy of activity. In the kitchen to our left a woman was filling an army of pickling jars from steaming vats of vegetables, while her companions prepared the next batch. To our right house martins flew to and from a row of nests beneath the eves, beaks full of insects. Only we were idle.

With our apple cake reduced to a few crumbs and a small bill settled, we rejoined N and Leonid and reluctantly left the bucolic delights of Butuceni.

Cricova Winery


Cricova is half way back to Chişinău. Like most Moldovan towns, it seems largely invisible, but the vineyards were easy to find, as was the large car park and ticket office at the entrance to the tunnels.


The Cricova vineyards
The winery was on the other side of the elusive town, but we were at the quarry – or rather, mine – which provided the limestone to build Chişinău. The workings left 120km of tunnels below ground, with a steady temperature of 12° - perfect for wine storage. The winery acquired the tunnels in the 1950s and now uses about half for storage and a ‘wine emporium’.

Moldova sees few tourists, but this is the place they all come. Donning the sweaters we had been advised to bring, we settled into an electric buggy with a dozen or so companions of varying nationalities and headed into the tunnels.

Into the Cricova tunnels
We paused to inspect some barrels.

Lynne and some barrels, Cricova tunnels
At the next stop we were ushered through a door into a small cinema, handed a glass of sparkling wine and shown a film on its manufacture.

Refreshed and informed we went to see some of the ‘champagne method’ wine under production. At Purcari we had seen gyropalletes which mechanically – and very slowly - turn and tilt the bottles (a process known as remuage) so the sediment of the secondary fermentation falls into the neck from where it can be removed. At Cricova remuage is still done by hand (at least for the bottles on display) and a skilled worker can turn and tilt 30,000 bottles a day. Remuage takes six weeks by hand, one week by gyropallete.

Remuage explained, Cricova tunnels
We continued to the bottle store.

Bottle store, Cricova tunnels
Some of the bottles here are special because of their provenance….

1936 Pommard, Cricova
….others because of their owners. Below is Vladimir Putin’s wine – he celebrated his 50th birthday here in 2002 – and for balance there are also the collections of Angela Merkel and former US Secretary of State John Kerry.

Vladimir Putin's wine collection, Cricova
Yuri Gagarin visited in 1966 and, according to legend, was in the cellars for two days before being assisted out. His letter of thanks (or apology?) is on display.

Yuri Gagarin and his 'thank you' letter, Cricova
Cricova Tasting

Eventually we were shown into a room for our own tasting.

Lynne waiting for the tasting, Cricova
The were four wines:

Cricova Chardonnay was a strangely fruity wine considering it had spent (wasted?) 6 months in oak barrels. More an attempt at a new world style than traditional Burgundy it was let down by its lack of acidity.

Cricova Rosé, a 50/50 blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot was darkish in colour but very light on the palate. Dry enough, but it was another wine which needed acidity to provide focus.

Three of the wines at the Cricova tasting
Codru Roşu (Red) Codru is the name of the local wine district. Also a Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend, but this one 70/30, it was a run of the mill cheap Cabernet. I would be happy to drink a bottle of this any day, as long as I had not paid too much for it.

Muscat Sparkling Wine is made by the Charmat method (where secondary fermentation takes place in a tank rather than the bottle) used for Prosecco and Asti Spumante. I do not like Muscat at the best of times, but when it is this sweet I would pay not to drink it.

The wines we tasted yesterday at Purcari were individuals with carefully nurtured personalities, wines I would go out of my way to buy for a special occasion. Cricova, however, produces good solid commercial wines, like thousand of others on our supermarket shelves, pleasant and cheap enough to open without thought. They are rarely seen in the UK; although production costs are low in Moldova, after adding fixed costs they would be little cheaper than so many similar wines from closer to hand.

Back to Chişinău


It was a short drive back into Chişinău. ‘The older apartment blocks are limestone,’ N observed, thinking of the Cricova tunnels. ‘They are cooler in summer and warmer in winter than the newer concrete apartments.’ N lives in the northern suburb, so Leonid dropped her off as we passed.

In Soviet days all apartments were rented from the state. When Moldova became independent, tenants could buy their apartments for $100 and proof of residence. Home ownership rates are thus extraordinarily high. N’s grandmother had bought her apartment, and when she died N became the outright owner of a limestone apartment.

Leonid stopped to show us the State Circus building.

State Circus building, Chisinau
It looks modern, innovative and impressive from a distance, but closer to the cracks were showing.

Close up of the State Circus building, Chisinau
It is a metaphor for Moldova. The country’s population is officially 3.3 million, but N suggested there were really only 2 million, the rest were ‘elsewhere’. Her figures may have been plucked from the air, but any Moldovan of Romanian heritage – the vast majority – can legally obtain a Romanian passport, giving access to the whole EU. Even N, with a well-paid job (her description) and her own home said that when her Australian boyfriend goes home, she expects to go with him.

Diner at Plăcintă, Chişinău 


We dined at Plăcintă, where we ate lunch on Sunday. Stewed chicken with mamaliga, Moldova’s universal polenta-like dish, suited me fine, the chicken was well cooked and the salty grated cheese perked up the mamaliga. Lynne was happy with her chicken sausage and we enjoyed a bottle of Chateau Vartely Cabernet Sauvignon. The price/quality ratio in Moldova is outstanding. Vartely - Cricova standard or maybe a little classier - is available in the UK from Laithwaites and The Sunday Times Wine Club – but a bottle costs almost twice the Chişinău restaurant price.

Dinner at Placinta, Chisinau
Later we strolled up to the Arcul de Triumf where people were launching Chinese lanterns. It may have been connected with Sunday’s demonstrations about the mayoral elections, or, there again….

Chinese lanterns at the Arcul de Triomf, Chisinau