Killing Batteries

Leif Pettersen’s battery-powered rise to the zenith of travel writing rapture
Tue
28
Oct '08

New hidden cam video of Transdniestr reveals that everything is still effed

When researching Romania and Moldova for Lonely Planet, I’m also obliged to visit the self-declared, breakaway republic of Transdniestr (A.K.A. ‘Transnistria’). It’s yet another one of those countries-that-don’t-exist jobbies that you hear about occasionally in the news. Though they haven’t had any headline-grabbing military action since the brief, but bloody 1991 civil war with Moldova ended in a stalemate, they’re nevertheless notorious in the region for being run by Russian gangsters who make a tidy profit in arms dealing and human trafficking. Meanwhile, dirt poor citizens are told they’re living the Soviet-era communist ideal and that this is in their best interest.

Despite rampant rumors of arms dealing, there has been precious little hard evidence that any yahoo could pop over into Transdniestr, load up on weapons and outfit a small army whenever they felt like it. Well, a new video has come out, done by the Italian TV program Le Iene (“The Hyenas”) that appears to not only show a guy successfully closing an arms deal, but also has bonus footage of Transdniestr and Russian border guards doing what they do best: shake foreigners down for everything they’re worth. Moldovan police are well-known for doing this too, but we don’t see any evidence in this particular video.

The two-part video, which was brought to my attention by Elfin Waters who always sends me the very best tidbits coming out of Italy, unfortunately is a little long (about nine minutes each) and almost entirely in Italian, so I’ll provide my own narrative here. I should preface by saying that Italian is by far my weakest language, so if anyone notices that I’ve gotten anything really wrong, please alert me.

In Part I, the guy gives a breathless history about the region, how it’s not recognized by any government in the world (except Papa Russia), but nevertheless has their own currency, police force, army and “borders”, controlled by Transdniestran border guards – with backing from a 5000-strong Russian ‘operational group’ to keep Moldova from getting any bright ideas about taking its land back.

The guy travels to Chişinau, rents a car and heads to Tiraspol, the capital of Transdniestr. It’s right here that he makes two costly mistakes. It appears he’s hired a Romanian woman to be his translator. Unfortunately, this does him little good in Transdniestr, a primarily Russian-speaking region, and we see them frequently reduced to caveman talk in both Romanian and Italian. Also, it’s pretty clear that the translator has never been to Transdniestr before, so there’s no one to stop the announcer guy from walking into a bunch of border scams, including a daring new one (at least, new to me) when they try to leave, but I digress.

They stash all their A/V equipment in the doors/roof/trunk of the car and then proceed to the worst possible border crossing: the hectic and bribe-happy crossing at Bendery. This is a three-part crossing. First you get checked out by Moldovan cops, then a Russian military post and then the Transdniestran border guards. The Moldovans wave them through, but uh oh, there’s trouble at the Russian checkpoint. The Russians use a well-worn scam, saying that our heroes have to go back to Chişinau for some mystery document and then cross at another border crossing about 100 kilometers north, which, with the state of Moldovan/Transdniestran roads, is almost a full day’s drive in all. However, after much frowning and feigned grumbling they reluctantly allow them through after paying a ‘fine’ of 600 lei (about US$55).

Then our heroes walk over to “Transdniestran immigration”, one of whom amazingly speaks Italian, and seemingly without even bothering to invent an infraction or fine, they are ordered to pay 20 euros. FYI – Transdniestr entry permits are officially about US$1.

Finally inside Transdniestr, we are treated to the requisite video montage of Tiraspol, including not one, but two Lenin statues and the hilarious Che Guevara/Putin poster on the city’s main thoroughfare. They touch briefly on “President” Igor Smirnov, and his dubious ties to Sheriff, the company that owns virtually everything in Transdniestr. They even find an unusually candid local that explains that Sheriff (and by association Smirnov) is the republic’s “mafia”. What’s interesting here is that I’m 98% sure that during this conversation they are standing in the lobby of one of Tiraspol’s best hotels, supposedly owned by Smirnov, where all his gangster buddies stay during visits. Not sure if the woman speaking is just some random off the street or if she actually works at the hotel. Either way, I have never, ever heard a Transdniestran speak so negatively about Smirnov. Perhaps the increasingly thin subterfuge and hilarious propaganda passed around in recent years has finally started to lose its effect on the populace.

Finally they head to the market to try to find someone to sell them guns. Through the magic of video editing, they appear to find someone willing to talk guns in almost no time.

In Part II, after decamping from the market to slightly quieter street corner, the prospective dealer quizzes them about why they want the guns and what precisely our heroes want to buy (handguns and kalashnikovs). Then some haggling over prices. Then some idle shop-talk about missile launchers and remote control bombs (Christmas is coming up after all). Then they agree to meet again Saturday afternoon for a viewing of the merchandise.

They meet as planned on the street and retreat into a bar, where the dealer calls in his runner with a sample. More discussion of weaponry ensues. The runner arrives and we see a Russian-made handgun being examined. Then they haggle and the announcer agrees to buy 50 handguns with silencers for 500 euros each (about US$625) and 50 kalashnikovs, also for 500 euros each – so, 50,000 euros total (US$62,500) for a hell of a lot of firepower. They then discuss the route they will take from Transdniestr, through Moldova and into Romania when they have their truckload of guns.

The seller says the guns will be ready in two weeks. They agree that he will call them when they are ready and speak the secret code: ‘the hen with the egg’ (that’s the literal translation, but I suppose it really means something like ‘the hen has laid the egg’ or something).

The announcer quickly sums up how he, just some regular guy that sauntered in to Tiraspol, was able to close a deal for 100 weapons in the space of a few hours.

Having done what they came to do, they wisely decide to get the hell out of TransD. This, apart from the apparently successful arms deal, is the most intriguing part for me. When they get to the Transdniestran check point, the guards pull the announcer into a hut, away from his hidden camera-wearing translator and they somehow surmise that he’s a prime target for a big time shakedown. It’s not said, but I wonder if the guards demanded that “by law” he needed to show them all the cash he was carrying. This is a common trick these guards use to get an idea of how much money they can then ‘fine’ that person for invented infractions later on. For whatever reason the announcer was carrying a large amount of cash (maybe to use as flash money during his arms deal, I don’t know), so, sensing a massive payday for all, the guards decide to give him a breathalyzer test. It appears to show that he is guilty of a DUI. The announcer claims he hasn’t had a single drink. They haul him off to a ‘clinic’ to confirm his blood-alcohol level with a more reliable test, separating the guy from his translator. When he returns, he agitatedly reports that they confirmed his alleged drunkenness and he was fined 600 euros (US$750) on the spot. Ouch.

At the Russian checkpoint, the exact same guy they dealt with last time takes them into the hut yet again for another shakedown. Our heroes’ frustration bubbles over into amusement at the absurdity of it all, as he pays 50 euros for an undisclosed offense. Finally, they are back in the relative safety of Moldova. The end.

I really found this video fascinating on so many levels. Despite some very weak prep work, the announcer manages to uncover all kinds of juicy info during his visit. We get to see guns, we get to see shameless thieving by Russian and Transdniestran officials, we learn that any dingleberry can stumble into TransD and buy/ship enough firepower to equip a small army anywhere in the EU for about US$63,000, not including bribes and presumably various border guard payoffs and we get to see the biggest Transdniestran border bribe scam that I’ve ever heard of.

Now, in fairness, what this video doesn’t show, mostly because it’s off-topic I suppose, is that with the right prep work and avoiding the Bendery border crossing, Transdniestr is really a mesmerizing place to visit. My visit in 2006 was wrought with relatively minor problems (I brought a Russian-speaker with me, but not one that had experience traveling in the region, which may have contributed to some of the social ostracizing we experienced), but my visit in May of 2008 revealed a whole new, seemingly chilled out Transdniestr. If you have any interest in Soviet-era Moscow, there’s really nothing like it in the world – not even Moscow. Well, maybe Pyongyang.

Finally, what you’ve all been waiting for I’m sure, some traveler tips for future TV exposé crews wanting to enter TransD from Moldova: It’s imperative that you bring a Russian-speaker, preferably someone with experience traveling in the region. Also, drive a car with Moldovan plates – a cheap car, so as not to give any hint, valid or not, that you might be rich – and avoid the Bendery crossing at all costs. I crossed through at Grigoriopol in May. This added about an hour onto the drive time from Chişinau to Tiraspol, but unlike the three-part, multi-national gauntlet of greed at Bendery, Grigoriopol simply has two very bored Transdniestran guards. I didn’t see it, but I think my driver had to pay a small ‘fee’, otherwise we sailed right though. You cannot, however, use this crossing if you intend to exit Transdniestr into Ukraine, due to the lack of transit paperwork facilities here.

Though they seem to change the rules every few months, at the time of writing, you do not need a letter of invitation from a Transdniestran local to visit the region. If you’re told otherwise at the border, you’re being sized up for a bribe. Same goes for if you’re told that you need a visa (nonexistent) acquired at the ‘Transdniestran Embassy’ (also nonexistent).

As you see in the video, going through the Bendery crossing means that you will most likely be invited into a hut at some stage to have a sit-down with a few looming, armed men. This is a scare tactic that builds up to whatever infraction you’ve committed and the eventual bribe you’ll have to pay. How much you pay depends almost entirely on how cool you play it. A theatrical performance designed to heighten anxiety and break your spirit will commence. Ominous forms will be filled out. If you’re entering on public transport, your bags will be pulled off the bus, presumably leaving you stranded. Your best defense is calm and patience. Let the bus leave you behind, another will be along shortly. Even the most persistent guards will eventually get tired of dealing with you, particularly if their tactics don’t appear to be working. Worst case scenario, you’ll be stonewalled at a mirthfully small bribe offer (say, five euros) or you’re sent back to where you came from. They cannot hold you, or arrest you or anything like that, so really, their only weapon is intimidation. If that doesn’t work. They’re out of options.

And for the love of Buddha, don’t carry a gangsta wad of cash, stored in your prominently displayed money/document pouch. Bring along just enough euros/Moldovan lei to get you through your visit. The less cash you have on you, the more meager the bribe they can demand. There are no cash machines anywhere in TransD, so if you don’t have serious cash on you, bribe negotiations will be brief.

For more info on run-ins with officials, escaping bribe shakedowns and what to do in case of arrest while abroad, read my recent article in Global Traveler magazine entitled “Who You Gonna Call?” (join the web site’s free 30-day trial to read the entire article).

Agonizing over travel insurance? Maybe I can help…

Mon
4
Aug '08

Romania/Moldova lists

As with my Tuscany lists, I’m doing a random (yet totally definitive and quote-worthy) best/worst overview of this summer’s research trips to Romania and Moldova.

One all-encompassing word of warning to start, do not travel here in July or August. Romania has already begun to mirror Western Europe in that heat/crowds/prices become insufferable in the high season. Leave travel for April/May or September/October when the tatty souvenir stands start drifting off, the busses disperse and the prices halve. Also, the debate on whether or not to splash out on a room with air-con will be moot.

Best/Worst of Romania and Moldova

•    Worst street signage: It’s a tie between Bucharest and Constanta. The lack of street signs and even door numbers in these cities will drive new arrivals into a singular rage, especially if those new arrivals are racing around town trying to find 25 addresses in a single day.

•    Least improved city: Sighisoara due to all the horrible, unsightly souvenir stands that they’ve let people set up inside the Citadel. Someone in their city government needs to be fired over that. And probably have their income audited while they’re at it. No one in their right mind would approve those pedestrian disrupting eyesores if kickbacks weren’t involved.

•    Best city for strolling: Brasov used to be my fav, but I’ve changed my tune and Sibiu is the winner. The newly restored historic center is just lovely with the added advantage of having scant screaming/honking cars.

•    Best tourist information office: Timişoara. The English-speaking staff here were so stunningly helpful and informed that I needed to be helped to a chair and fed a nitro pill. Iaşi’s new tourist information office is a very close second – they had less brochures, but more cleavage. For the love of Buddha, why can’t Bucharest do this? Get on the ball you lazy jackholes before I rewrite the book, saying Iaşi was re-named the capital!

•    Worst located tourism information office ever: The state of the art Piatra Craiului National Park Office in Zarneşti. Or more accurately outside Zarneşti. Like 2km outside Zarneşti, down a dirt road in the middle of an effing field. These people have mountains of excellent hiking information that no one will ever see. What a clusterf*ck.

•    City with worst accommodations value: Tie between Timişoara and Iaşi. These places either need more one and two star hotels built after the fall of communism or they need to open some hostels. Preferably both.

•    City with best accommodations value: Sibiu. Three brand new, fabulous hostels have opened here and they’re all well priced.

•    Best bookshop selling English language books: Anthony Frost English Language Bookshop in Bucharest.

•    Best museum (display presentation): Sibiu’s newly re-opened Museum of History, easily the most modern, professional and swanky museum in the country.

•    Best museum (fringe interest): Cluj’s Pharmaceutical Museum – for as long as the amiable Mr. Radu-Mihai is leading tours, for pure entertainment value, this is the best 5 lei you’ll spend in Romania.

•    Best museum (spunkiness): the Comrat Museum (Comrat, Gagauzia [Moldova]) – the lackluster collection of stuff seemingly rescued from townspeople’s attics is greatly enhanced by the staff who may only see one or two foreigners per year and want to make sure visitors see every piece of their beloved history. Be prepared for thickly accented lectures in Romanian the entire time.

•    Best hostel: the brand new, funky, comfortable and central Flying Time Hostel in Sibiu.

•    Best overall accommodations: for the rare display of swank and good value while having shown heroic restraint by not raising their prices in two years, the award easily goes to Hotel Atlantic in Oradea.

•    Most disappointing accommodations experience: Hellios Inn in Doi Mai (Black Sea Coast). A former ‘author’s choice’ selection (wondering if the author was drunk at the time of visit), I spent a very regrettable night here. The staff were rude when they weren’t totally ignoring me, the beds were awful, something leaked in the bathroom all night and, I was belatedly informed, there was no breakfast included. On an entirely separate note, Doi Mai’s beach, overlooking a shipping yard, is the coast’s worst.

•    Best beach: Vama Veche

•    Most gratuitous, death-defying, habitual display of cleavage in the tourism industry: the clerk at Burg Hostel in Sighisoara. She was the talk of men (and women) on the backpacker trail. It was impossible not to stare at this Elvira Mistress of the Night enthusiast. And you just knew if you looked long enough one of them was going to eventually bounce out. Too bad she was such a sourpuss otherwise.

•    Best restaurant: yet again it’s Bella Musica in Braşov. They keep raising their prices, but I still love them for serving mouth watering ciorba (soup), excellently prepared beef, admirably authentic Mexican dishes and the best salsa I’ve had in Europe. Honorable mention goes to Beer House in Chişinau.

•    Biggest bang for your buck: Any of the Moldovan wine tours. Some of the best and least expensive wine tours in the world.

•    Least bang for your buck: the Black Sea Coast, particularly Mamaia, Mangalia and that over-touristed craphole Eforie Nord where crowds, bad food and ludicrously over-priced accommodations leave one in a perpetual, consternated, unsatisfied state. Everyone from the four-star hotels down to the ice cream vendors took the country’s new EU member status as a signal to double prices without the tedious annoyance of adding any value to their products/services. If this keeps up, bloody Tuscany will be a better travel value than Romania’s Black Coast by next summer.

•    Best drive: as I’ve mentioned previously, it’s hands down the drive between Gura Humorului all the way to Vadu Izei. God help you if you’re the driver though, all that up-down, twisting and turning – if take your eye off the road for a second you’ll pinwheel down the mountain into someone’s hay barn. Also, for pure mind-bending height and driving anxiety, you can’t not mention the Transfăgărăşan Road.

•    Worst drive due to…
o    Road conditions: the E68 in southern Transylvania where over-ambitious road construction has left a single lane for two-way traffic to take turns using every 500 meters or so. With the interminable stop and go conditions, it’s almost faster to walk the 143 kilometers from Sibiu to Braşov.
o    Bad drivers: the entire Black Sea Coast. You get it all here – the usual local drivers invoking the patented Romanian combination of bursting appendix urgency crossed with ringing cell phone distraction. Then you also have the vacationers who are often lost (due to the above mentioned poor signage) and driving like they have all week to get to where they’re going – because they do.

•    Best off-the-beaten-path experience: the villages in Maramureş. On a side note, the new daily super fast ferries out to the Danube Delta villages makes the trip out there much more accessible. The bad news is that it’s now a little too accessible. Four star villas are appearing and school groups are arriving. So much for that little bit of escapism.

What Happened

•    Number of days on the road: 49

•    Number of rest days in that time: 2.5

•    Distance driven: about 4,028 kilometers (2,502 miles)

•    Number of cities/towns/villages/destinations visited: 47

•    Number of times I was honked at for obeying the law: 57

•    Number of times I did laundry in 49 days: two

•    Number of rain days: 2.5

•    Number of times I parked ‘creatively’: 76

•    Number of parking tickets: zero

•    Number of teeth fixed: two

•    Total cost, including x-rays, to fix teeth: $91

•    Number of guidebooks that I autographed: six

•    Number of times I was told to “come back tomorrow” by lazy schmucks that didn’t feel like giving me the information that I needed: 6 (down from 126 when I did this in 2006)

•    Number of near-car accidents: 17 (down from 372 in 2006)

•    Number of actual car accidents: zero

•    Based on my Romanian language skills, number of times that people ever so briefly thought that I was Romanian: four

•    Number of times that I was lectured about the failings of the current Romania guidebook by normal people: three

•    Number of times that I was lectured about the failings of the current Romania guidebook by batshit crazy crackpots: one

•    Number of times that I was pleasantly surprised about how Romania has improved in so far as customer service and infrastructure in the past two years: 34

•    Number of times that I was shocked at how abysmally bad customer service and infrastructure in Romania still is: 12

•    Number of times I wished I had a decent hamburger and a cider and a mattress that wasn’t made out of old tank parts: four

Mon
26
May '08

How to escape a bribe shakedown perpetrated by greedy Moldovan swine

Just north of Chisinau, on the road to the Cricova winery, there’s a devious little speed trap in a 300 meter long, little buttfuck settlement, barely large enough to be named and nowhere near large enough to appear on any maps. The two cops in this almost-town have absolutely nothing else to do, but spend their days pulling people over for invented infractions and then intimidating them into on-the-spot bribery. This is a highly successful operation, seeing as how most Chisinau cops putter around, squished inside old Ladas while these countryside swine have relatively swanky Skodas.

Like everyone else, I usually slow to a groveling crawl as I pass cops like this, giving them little reason to pull me over. But this time, I was trying to get around a truck belching out exhaust at a toxicity quantity of about 999,999 parts per million and at the precise moment that I careened around the effing thing, the Lead Swine waved me to the side of the road.

Though there’s no posted speed limit here, the Lead Swine gravely informed that I had broken the 60KPH (37MPH) speed limit on this six lane highway that otherwise has a 90KPH limit by going 72 KPH. Having suffered through Moldovan Swine harassment repeatedly in 2006 when I had the unfortunate notion of driving my Romanian car into Moldova (which is akin to driving around with a neon “Please Stop and Intimidate Me” sign bolted to your roof), I knew the drill and was determined not to pay these swine.

Indeed, I put on a show that would’ve made Daniel Day-Lewis proud and walked away without ever having opened my wallet. In fact, it’s really not too difficult, so for the benefit of future visitors to Moldova and other locales with similarly honorable and motivated law enforcement, read and learn:

Sitting in the Swine Mobile, that's my foot hanging out the door1. Whether you speak their language like an angel or only know a few phrases, do not speak a single word to the swine in their language, not even ‘hello’ – the less communication, the less effective the intimidation
2. When you are invited to get into the Swine Mobile with the Lead Swine’s Co-Swine, do so nonchalantly, remaining nonplused
3. Stay cool. Pretend you have all the time in the world, even if you’re trying to cover 300 kms that day for critical guidebook research
4. When the Co-Swine mimes putting your driver’s license in his pocket and leaving with it, show absolutely no sign of understanding
5. When the Co-Swine makes gestures that you go with him and repeats over and over “bank” and “lei” (Moldova’s currency), just repeat the same thing back with a hopelessly perplexed look on your face
As I play dumb, new victims line up waiting to be shaken down 6. When the Co-Swine starts ominously filling out a form with all your personal information, remain placid
7. Show no sign of recognition or understanding when the Lead Swine – who meanwhile is still pulling hapless people over, not even bothering to use the speed gun anymore – sticks his head in the window and says “Igor! What the fuck? Hurry up with this guy! If we don’t net another 1,000 lei before the end of the shift, I’m not gonna make my pool payment!”
8. When the Co-Swine, sensing defeat, sighs heavily and slumps his shoulders, do not show any sign of satisfaction
9. Simply say ‘thank you’ when the Co-Swine hands your documents back to you and says ‘goodbye’
10. As you return to your car, continue to look perplexed by everything that’s occurred, maybe even scratch your head for the Lead Swine’s benefit as he watches in disbelief while three months worth of pool payments walks off
Cut loose, already contenplating a blog post title 11. Drive away carefully as you start mentally composing a blog entry about what’s just happened
12. Post pictures of the swine and Swine Mobile on the internet and mock them mercilessly, maybe adding a little comment about the caliber of swine mother that produced such pitiable swine offspring in their swine trailer park, on Swine Boulevard, in Swineville, home of the “Fighting Swine” soccer team with a record of 0 and 36 because they play like such hopeless swine

[Pictures courtesy of my co-pilot Elfin, who discreetly shot through the back window of our car with her tiny point-and-shoot digicam, conveniently armed with a Swine Filter to better capture swine in action.]

Tue
26
Feb '08

Anthony Bourdain makes clusterf*ck visit to Romania

bourdainromania.jpgIf you missed it, you can check this page for the rerun schedule, but I’ll save you the suspense and tell you that Anthony’s trip to Romania was pitifully conceived, planned and executed. Among other things, totally avoidable eff-ups included:

• Rather than contacting me, he let his bumbling Russian buddy, who’d seemingly visited Romania once for a week in the 90s, plan the whole trip for him, including going to one of the schlockiest restaurants in the country and spending the night at a Dracula-themed hotel in Braşov on Halloween with a tour group from Nevada.
• Spending more than 30 cumulative minutes in that hellhole Bucharest.
• Believing that a professional advance team could iron out any pesky Romanian bureaucratic impasses before he got there and if there was trouble all he’d have to do is present his trusty folder of official papers and everything would be just fine.
• Thinking that driving a Dacia 1310 long distances would be funny, good TV instead of life threatening.
• Not getting a sexy translator.

On that note, I’d like to formally announce that I have signed contracts with LP to go back to Romania and Moldova to research and update chapters for the same for the next Eastern Europe and Europe on a Shoestring guidebooks.

Some of my heartiest, long-standing blog readers will either be groaning sadly and/or getting very excited for all the pathetic, whiny, bleating, bitchy Romania and Moldova-related blog posts that are sure to follow which have historically been some of the funniest material I have ever written. Well, the joke is on you, jackholes. This is going to be the greatest trip ever and here’s why:

• I’ll be traveling in summer, not the dead of winter.
• I’ll be driving a real car, as opposed to this piece of $hit.
• I’ll be constantly mobbed by crazed fans, carrying the previous additions of the guidebooks, co-written by me, directed by me and starring me.
• I’ve been to all of these destinations before, several times in some cases, and won’t have to deal with things like getting lost while driving, getting lost while walking and getting lost while getting lost.
• I’ll have a sexy translator in tow.

On that note I’d like to formally announce that I’m taking applications for the position of my sexy translator. Ideal applicants will have the following qualifications:

• Speak English
• Speak Romanian
• Be not batshit crazy
• Be sexy

Though my Romanian language skills haven’t deserted me as fast as my Italian language skills, it wouldn’t hurt to have a second pair of ears while I’m interrogating bus station clerks or to have a flirty co-pilot to smooth things over when I get stopped by the pigs for imaginary driving infractions and shaken down for a bribe. I’m looking at you Moldova.

I blast off for the first of two Romania/Moldova trips on May 7th. Bucharest beware, I’m coming to see you first and I’m not happy about it.

Thu
6
Jul '06

Transdniestr bomb blast

Things seem to be getting worse in Transdniestr. 

Trans-Dniester blast kills eight:  At least eight people have been killed in an explosion on a city minibus in Moldova’s breakaway Trans-Dniester region, officials say.

No word on whether the maxitaxi was the target or whether the bomb was intended for another target and went off by accident.

Mon
8
May '06

Moldovan Wine Huhuhuhuhuhuhuhuh!

I know all you winos have been on the edge of your desk chairs waiting for this one, breathless with anticipation to hear a first hand account about the famed Moldovan wine by an impartial, articulate wine aficionado.  Well I have some good news and some bad news.  The wine is indeed magnificent, but regrettably I know about as much about wine as a dead armadillo.  In fact, I have the exacting palette of a rock.  I’m nearly useless.  But I saw ‘Sideways’ three times, so I’m going to try my best to describe the experience using phrases more evocative than ‘yummy’ and ‘tastes like red’.


Moreover, today, articulate I am not.  I only just finished sampling most of the wine I brought home from Moldova last night, during a gruelling six hours of food and drink that has left me profoundly fuzzy-headed.  So what you’re really going to get is some semi-lucid vagaries by a guy who, on an average day, can’t pass a blind taste-test between orange juice and coffee.


Ready?  Let’s begin.


(more…)

Wed
3
May '06

Transdnistria

Transdnistria (A.K.A. ‘Transdniestr’, A.K.A. TransD, A.K.A. ‘Cyrillicgobbltigook-cyrillicgobbltigook’) was a memorably surreal experience.  I’m not gonna lie to you, it was by far the dodgiest trip I have ever taken.  In forty countries I have never felt so watched and on the brink of being in irreparable trouble during every waking moment.


(more…)

Mon
1
May '06

BMWs, Mercedes and Butt-Cheeks Oh My!

With the notable exception of Monaco, I have never seen a higher concentration of luxury cars than in Chisinau, Moldova.  BMWs reign supreme, followed closely by Mercedes with American SUVs making a strong showing.  The Russian Lada, formerly the unofficial national car of Moldova, is a distant fourth or fifth (all numbers are by my observation and by no means scientific).

So how is it, you may ask, that the poorest country in Europe has so much four wheeled flash?  Well, that’s a touchy subject.  The “shadow economy” phenomenon has allowed certain businesses to prosper in a tax-free orgy of profit, allowing their owners for such excesses.  Arms dealing, human and organ trafficking and other organized criminal ugliness is surely a factor.  But with the staggering number of luxury vehicles on the street, it’s difficult to imagine, even in Moldova, that all these people are somehow associated with dark dealings.  Another aspect is foreign money filtered back into Moldova.  About 1/3 of Moldova’s economy is driven by money sent home by Moldovans working abroad and wiring the money home to their families.  In some cases the understandable aim of seeking a better life has lost all grip with reality.  College students take money meant for tuition and buy clothes and the aforementioned slick rides.  Then of course there are government officials, bureaucratic heavies and the ubiquitous money-hungry police all collecting second and third unreported salaries that double or triple their pay checks.

(more…)

Sun
30
Apr '06

Chisinau

Chisinau (ki-shi-no), the capitol of Moldova, ascended to the top of my list of all time favourite cities within 24 hours of my arrival.  Strangely, there are very few items of tourist appeal to indulge in here (even less now as they have closed one museum and merged two others), yet I deeply enjoyed myself.

To start, the people are just wonderful.  Friendly, helpful and genuine.  Ask directions from someone in Bucharest and you probably won’t get much more than a grunt and a head nod in a vague direction.  In Chisinau, the person you’ve beseeched for help will come out of their store, take your arm (like the Romanians, Moldovans can be very tactile) lead you to the street and give you specific, careful instructions.  This would have been endearing enough as a traveller, but as a guidebook researcher, this mentality saved me untold time and hardship.  Merchants, hotel staff, museum directors, strangers at bus stops, whether there was something in it for them or not, they all dropped everything, offering me information, coffee, the use of their telephones, whatever.  It was an absolute joy to work there.

Also, they have a restaurant and nightlife scene that is so grand and extensive that it’s going to kill me to have to cut those sections of the book down to a reasonable length.  The downside is the hotels are absurdly expensive and not all that great.  But there’s a number of ways around that, namely home stays, which brings me to yet another Chisinau rave.

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Sun
16
Apr '06

Goodbye Romania, Hello Moldova

I leave for Moldova in the morning and I’ve gotta admit, I don’t think I have ever been more nervous about going somewhere. Usually Moldova can be challenging and the breakaway region of Transdnistria, which I’m also obliged to visit, is one step above chaos, but things have worsened recently making the overall picture none-too appealing for an American journalist, travelling alone, in a Romanian car that’s not in his name and insured by a third party, without a single word of Russian in his vocabulary.

Relations between Transdnistria, the Russian-backed country that doesn’t exist, and Moldova have never been great but various moves by self-absorbed fat-heads, resulting in consequences largely felt by the already long-suffering citizens of both regions, have hit a new low and Transdnistria has called for Russia to send more support – the bulk of their defence is supplied by Russian troops, sympathetic to the region clinging to old Soviet ways. I’m already being told not to drive the car into Transdnistria, though if I do, don’t dare go without a smooth talking local in the passenger seat or the guards will have a field day with my sorry ass. I’ll have to see if anyone in my large group of contacts in Chisinau will be willing to take a short road trip with me. Guides are surprisingly expensive (15-30 euro per hour), so that will have to be a last ditch option. Hopefully, there’ll just be a friendly local in Chisinau, preferably with relatives in Transdnistria, who’d like to come along for the ride.

With Communist ways in full force in Moldova and people extra touchy right now, I imagine that fact gathering will be even more difficult than here in Romania, where paranoid suspicion of questions, no matter how benign, particularly by older, Ceausescu-era generations can be like pulling teeth from a starving crocodile (e.g. Q: “What time is it?” A: “Why do you want to know? Who are you?”).

The good news, as I’ve already mentioned, is that pre-trip emailing has brought me a windfall of excellent contacts in Chisinau. I’m in touch with two motivated guides, a dedicated blogger, the enthusiastic host of my LP predecessor, the business partner of some acquaintances of mine and a Fulbright scholar from Arizona, teaching a journalism class who I’m meeting en masse to talk about freelance travel writing in America. My cup runneth over with help and hopefully all the local wine my liver can endure.

I’m planning to stay 10-12 days. No more than 14, as my insurance will run out and I don’t need to give anyone additional excuses to harass me at the border.

Updates here will undoubtedly be scant and brief. If I go silent for more than two weeks call the embassy, stressing of course that I’m too cute to die.