Edinet, Moldova. 5th September 2024.

Clear of the border, I found an ATM in one of the towns  and drew out £100-ish. I thought that should be enough. At the hotel the woman accepted my debit card, as did the the filling station. I now wondered whether I’d be to spend all my cash, if everyone took cards.

I checked into the hotel I’d booked, encouraged by the woman there to bring my bike into the lobby. Then I walked down into the town and wandered around it, wanting to get a feel for the place. The side roads look a bit downbeat, definitely a step down from Romania. Some houses are OK, others are a bit rough and ready. A fair bit of rubble and detritus around too.

In the town centre they seem to make an effort to present things a bit better. There’s plenty of stores of various kinds. I checked out a supermarket and bought a Magnum ice cream, at about £1. It’s nice to have a treat. Beer is cheap and they had a good variety, including some brown beer. Another treat to  look forward to.

I had a look at the town hall, then went across to the museum. It was closed by the time I got there as I’d got delayed by a coffee stop. But I was able to get some photos of the cultural centre. It had a couple of interesting murals on the wall outside, made from bits of stone, tile and glass.

Next day I headed to Soroca. It was a challenging ride, at times. The R11 highway was OK, apart from having a poor surface. Once again, I was very glad of my upgraded suspension. But when I turned off onto the R7, the fun began. The surface was even worse. Sometimes it turned into packed stone chippings for varying periods. Added to this were roadworks, which were often several hundred metres long but with no traffic control. Fortunately traffic was light.

My friend Mark had told me to look out for wells. Public ones, often sited at road junctions. Harking back to the days before piped water, some of them looked very dowdy, but lots of them had been refurbished and looked very pretty. Clearly regarded as a valuable heritage item and still usable.

The countryside was mostly agricultural, with varied crops spreading across low hills. Some woodland too. The road had some bends, but was mostly quite straight. I stopped to photo houses and churches. I was in no hurry on a nice, sunny day.

I reached the town of Soroca and went to the guest house I’d booked. It was run by a nice old couple who let me put the bike around the back by their garage. Once unpacked I went for a walk into town, heading for the fort. On the way I passed some memorials, including one to Chernobyl. I guess some locals must have died there, or something. The town is well organised, with places for coffee and plenty of shops.

The fort is very well preserved and was free to get in. Signs are in English too, and I was able to just wander around, up into the towers and around the walls. There’s great views of the Dnister River, with Ukraine on the far bank. There was a couple using the fort as a wedding photo backdrop, something which I suspect is quite popular. I did my best not to photo bomb. Well worth the visit.

If you’re wondering how the lone traveller spends their evenings, here’s a sample. I’d found a restaurant called Salat. I had a soup with chicken, veg and noodles. Then a salad that had hot chicken and bacon(?) in it, in a very lovely sauce. Even the Chisinau brand beer wasn’t bad. I chilled out for a while, reading my book. I know how to live, me!

Next morning I headed out to visit Saharna Monastery. This was a very attractive place. Situated between two valleys, there were a variety of buildings in the complex. One of them had a beautiful turquoise, metal cupola, which reflected the sun in a stunning way.

I followed a path out the back of the monastery, through some cool woodland. I found a building that had a small pool in it, fed by a stream. People were going into it. I had the impression it was designed for ritual bathing or maybe self baptism. I took some photos then moved on.

Further on was a rock wall with niches containing pictures etc. A very interesting place to visit. But the really odd thing was to see a priest blessing the engine of a car belonging to a couple, right outside the front gate. The bonnet was up and he was spreading holy water and chanting. Some weird stuff going on there.

Next I headed up into the hills, to a village called Butuceni, to see the Cave Monastery. As I approached it a guy directed me into a car park, which didn’t seem very near to the entrance, but I felt I had no choice. I bought a ticket then walked along the road to where the steps up the hill started. I was annoyed to see a small car park there that I could have used. This may sound a bit moany but walking around in heavy riding boots is best avoided when possible.

In front of me was a ridge with a church on it. After a long walk up the hill, I found the church and a tower. Nice, but nothing special. There were caves in the side of the ridge, visible from the car park, but they weren’t accessible. But where was the cave monastery? Down the other side of the ridge, via about 100 steps.

When I got down there I saw two small caves and a couple of rooms with peasant artifacts in them. And that was it. I felt a bit cheated after all that effort. I suppose it’s possible that I missed an entrance but I didn’t think so. This area was next to a road that looped back round to where I’d parked. 100 steps, then a walk down the path? Or a 15 minute walk along a flat road? I walked. There was a small museum next to the car park with artifacts from previous millennia up to the middle ages. Reasonably interesting. But I still felt cheated.

I found a place for coffee. While I was drinking it I booked a hostel through booking.com, in Moldova’s capital city, Chisinau. Later on I got a general message about the place, including the info that there was an age limit of 60 years. A further message explained that it was because they didn’t want to force older people to use upper bunks. I’m not that decrepit just yet! I said to cancel the booking but they told me they’d rearrange things to give me a lower bunk. Very good of them to do that.

I headed into Chisinau and found the hostel. Usefully, I was able to park in the yard. It was a nice place and I was surprised to find a young English guy in the room too. He had a ticket to see Moldova play Malta at football that evening. I rather fancied joining him but it wasn’t possible at such short notice.

Hostels are usually great places to stay, but not always. At about 5am some bloke came in and got into the bunk above me. He was crashing and banging around and keeping me awake. It sounded like he had dragged his suitcase up there or was re-engineering the bunk. It was awful. Given the time of night he was probably just drunk. I told him off at one point. Absolute pain in the backside.

I found some breakfast near the hostel then went out exploring. I walked up the hill to the water tower, one of the local sights, but it was closed. So I walked down some nearby steps to the lake on the other side of the hill. There had been a marathon going on and I watched people getting awards while I ate an ice cream.

Then I set out to walk around the lake. It was very pleasant, with people, families etc. enjoying their Sunday in the sunshine. Cycling, fishing and also bathing on the beach that had been created.

I found and photoed a Lenin memorial. Then I copied what other people were doing and sunbathed for a while. Eventually I walked around as far as the cascade stairs, next to where I’d started the walk. It’s a is a series of fountains and waterfalls with steps on either side. Very well made and very pretty.

With the circuit of the lake now completed I found the national museum of ethnography and went in for a look around. Almost no info in English so it didn’t take long, especially as my interest in a lot of the displays isn’t high. Old coins and clothes aren’t a big attraction to me.

The next day I headed down towards the city centre, where there were various statues to significant personages, such as Stephen the Great, along with a Triumphal Arch. By whom, over what I never found out. In the Central Park I walked around for a while, then sat on a sunny bench and just watched the world go by. It was nice to just relax rather than feeling the need to rush around to various places. In the evening I went down to a nearby pub for a couple of pints of IPA. An excellent way to finish off a visit to Moldova’s capital city.

I’d reached a decision to pop across into Ukraine and visit the city of Odessa. Risky? Maybe, but there hadn’t been any attacks there for a long time. I wanted to visit as a way of showing solidarity to the Ukrainian people. Maybe that sounds a bit nonsensical, but it meant something to me.

What about Moldova? One of Europe’s poorest countries, not helped by having the breakaway enclave of Transnistria in the middle of the country. It’s closely allied with Russia, which has 1,500 troops stationed there. This prevents any attempt at EU membership, which probably suits the Russians. But an interesting country to visit. Good people, of course, and I loved those wells.

It was an easy ride to the border, but I made one mistake. I had planned to use up my Moldovan money on buying petrol but I didn’t think to check the location of the closest filling station to the border. I reached the border sooner than I thought then discovered the nearest one was 27kms back the way I’d come. I debated whether to go over anyway or go back. I decided to go back, despite the waste of time and distance. It was the best thing to do because I was able to use up my money instead of trying to get it changed in Ukraine.. I also had a coffee and ate my lunch.

When I got back to the border I joined a short queue of cars which didn’t move, all sitting at a barrier. It was only opened when the queue at the actual checkpoint reduced enough. Another bike came along after a while and went straight to the front, so I joined him.

After about 45 mins we got through and an official took my passport, driving licence and bike registration. I got chatting to the other guy, riding a very lovely Triumph Thunderbird Cruiser, and he told me the checkpoint was a dual operation between the two countries. How sensible.

Even so it still took an hour before I was on the move. We chatted and he told me the only way back to Romania was at a crossing which took me through Moldova again for about 4-5kms. Now that’s a real pain! It also be over six hours to the crossing point from Odessa. I needed to think about the best way to approach things.

Once I’d got my papers back I set off for my hotel, previously booked online. I had fun and games there, trying to pay. I had to use a QR link to get onto her payment website ,then we couldn’t get it to work, even after about 5 attempts. My card wouldn’t approve the payment. In the end she directed me to the supermarket where I found an ATM and drew out the cash to pay her with. The hotel was very close to the shopping centre. Very handy for food. It was also quite close to the central area, which I later went down to.

I enjoyed walking around it. There were lots of people about, enjoying the warm evening. The City Garden seemed to be a haven for buskers, as did some of the larger streets. The whole area was full of restaurants and bars. There was nothing to suggest that a war was under way.  And that, in my opinion, is the way it should be.

Next day I walked around to various places, taking photos. Odessa Passage – an indoor shopping area with a high glass roof and highly decorated walls. Derybasivska Street – a nice road with shops. I then walked over to see the Witch House of Odessa. This is described as an optical illusion and it’s easy to see why. The visible end has a kind of false edge to it. There’s a half angle which, looking at it from one place, makes it looks like the building has no back to it, like a false front on a film set. The facade is early 20^th century, with decorations as per that era.

Onwards down to the Potemkin Steps. There’s 180 of them, in nine flights of twenty, with a landing between each flight, leading down to the waterside. There’s a great view of the docks from the top. But they have a weird optical illusion. Standing at the top of the steps all I can see is steps. If I stand at the back edge of a landing all I can see is landings. Deliberate or not? I don’t know. I couldn’t go further than the end of the steps as there was a barbed wire barrier. Part of the city’s defences, I guessed.

Then I walked along the park at the top of the steps to see the Cathedral of the Great Martyr and Healers. But on the way I came across the main station. A typically imposing building with a great interior. But also a bomb shelter! That brought things home a bit. On the same lines, some of the buildings I passed had boarded up windows. I presumed it was to protect stained glass  as some of them were churches.

I found the city cathedral and went in. The main worship area is on the second floor and is amazingly decorative. I took a few photos but then got told off by a cleaner. I had to give up in the end because she kept a close eye on me.

Next morning I decided to visit the catacombs that lie beneath the city. I became part of a group of 18 people who were taken down into the old mine workings via 90 odd steps. Obviously the commentary from the guide was in Ukrainian but at each stage on the tour there were some info boards in English.

They aren’t catacombs in the true sense, just old mine workings from when the limestone was taken out to build the city. Odessa is quite new and its rapid expansion in the 19^th and 20^th century led to extensive mining. It’s reckoned there’s 2,500 kilometres of passages.

During WW2 they were used by partisans who fought the German occupiers. During the cold war they housed dissidents etc. In earlier times some enterprising people used the passages and chambers for such things as schools for thieves. They set up dummy windows to be broken into and set up dummies for pickpockets to attempt to steal from. Many strange things went on in these passages. To be honest, I wasn’t all that surprised. People are very enterprising and rarely waste a good resource.

In the evening I walked down to Mick O’neills bar but didn’t stay because they only sold lager or VERY expensive stout. One of the guys there suggested Calvins Bar.

This is obviously Scottish themed. They had a good range of beer. I settled for Fullers IPA, which was really nice. I had a bowl of Irish soup, which was filling enough, with the bread, not to need anything else.

I ended up having three pints because I was enjoying the ambiance so much. A bagpiper came in and played a few tunes. One of them especially for me, although I can’t remember what it was. The background music was some gentle jazz, which I was enjoying very much. A really nice, relaxed last evening in the fine and brave city of Odessa.

When I checked out, the woman went into my room and came back with the rubbish bag from the bathroom. She gave it to me, then took me outside and pointed along the street to the bins where I was to take it. In many countries in this part of the world you’re not supposed to put toilet paper down the toilet. There’s a risk of blocking the system. So it goes in the bin. It was a case of “You made it, you get rid of it.” That was definitely the weirdest check out I’ve experienced so far.

My phone data ran out so I had to revert to Maps.me. It worked very well. In some ways it’s better than Google except that there’s no voice (although I discovered later that there is). I’d worked out that I didn’t need to go back to Moldova and could go straight to Romania.

On the early part of the route I ended up going back past the border I came in at. As I neared it there was a big sign, in English as well, warning that we were in a special border area. No parking etc. I got pulled over by the police and my documents checked, but all was OK. They took the details of my bike and asked where I was going, then waved me on. Further along I was stopped at another check point and bike details were taken again. Just routine security.

Soon after that I filled up and had lunch. This garage wanted to know how much fuel I wanted before switching on the pump, Russian style. I showed her my card so she knew I was able to pay. I pushed on along flat and boring roads. Lots of trucks to contend with but no drama. But the wind was definitely against me. The fuel consumption had been quite poor when I filled up and I reckon the next one will be as bad. Farewell to any chance of 30kms per litre!

As I approached the town of Reni, where I was going to stay, I got stopped again, but again, it was OK. I found the hotel and got checked in.

What followed was a long and busy day, much of it spent hanging around. I left at 9.30, got to the border at 10.10, stopping at a filling station close by. I liked the wry smile on the guy’s face when I showed him my remaining Ukrainian money and said “This much petrol”.

Then it was just wait, wait, wait. I’d expected it. The immigration guy was very helpful. The customs guy who checked my bags wasn’t. He just walked away saying nothing. I caught his eye and asked if I could go and he waved me on.

When I got to the ferry queue the guy there said I needed a ticket from ‘Varma’ – customs. So I went back and realised that what he meant was a ferry ticket. A couple of the women who were queuing helped me understand that I could only get it at the window as the machine wasn’t working. I don’t imagine I’d have been able to work out how to use it anyway. It took over 30 minutes but I got it in the end. Back down to the ferry. Nope, I needed to go to customs for a stamp. He very kindly walked back to show me where. Once that was obtained I could board the ferry. Side loading, with trucks and cars being maneuvered around each other. The crossing was only 10 minutes, in a very blustery wind.

On the other side it had obviously been raining very hard. I had a coffee and biscuits then set off for Bucharest, Romania’s capital city.

Apart from having to fight the wind most of the way, it was a long and boring ride. I started wondering whether it was worth going there and stopped to look at the options for going on the the Transalpina Pass. But then I remembered I want to get a service done. I booked 3 nights at a hostel and hit the road again.

I caught a bit of rain but not much. But the temperature dropped noticeably. The woman who runs the place was very nice and very helpful. She gave me a bottom bunk in a roomy room, with a useful locker. She showed me a good place to eat and after a shower I walked down there.

I sat down at a table. There were two women sitting next to me who were from London. How nice. But then the waiter said the table was reserved. I said I’d be happy to sit outside but he said to wait a bit. In the end I got that table because the people who’d booked it hadn’t turned up.

I had a beer and the chef’s plate. The meal was great. And a very enjoyable chat with Elaine and Emma. Both very attractive, especially Elaine, who had a lot of style. She’s travelled a lot so we had plenty to chat about. Emma is into astrology and correctly guessed I’m a Sagittarian. So that turned out to be a great evening. The only slight downside was that when the subject of Ukraine came up Emma accused Zelensky of being a war monger! She said people needed to remember that Putin was dying and would have no qualms about pushing the nuclear button. I was stunned but didn’t bother to spoil the evening by arguing with such stupidity.

I had a lazy morning. But after lunch I decided it was time to go and look at the old town. Not a very long walk to get there. I just wandered around, looking at the old buildings and taking photos. National bank, National Museum, ancient cathedral and a more modern one. It was a pleasant afternoon with loads of people in the bars and cafés.

On the way back I called in at a Carrefour supermarket. I bought enough to feed me for that night and the next day. They sold ready cooked food that could be put into plastic tubs so I got some mixed veg (peppers etc) and some chicken pieces. I was tempted by a bottle of wine, at £5, just for a change from beer.

The veg and chicken was more than enough for two days and was very tasty. Same with the wine. Later on I joined all the other residents in the kitchen and enjoyed the jollity. The main protagonist was a woman who’d escaped her previous life in Algeria and was here to study. She made her story sound very funny. The woman who runs this place is also a student. It’s this kind of thing that makes hostel life so enjoyable. The cheaper price is good, but it’s mainly the company that’s valuable. It can get quite lonely in a hotel room.

The main job on a fresh Monday morning was to sort out an oil change for the bike. Honda says to do it at 12,000 Kms, and to change the oil filter at 24,000 Kms. I think that’s madness on a small and hard ridden engine. 10,000 Kms was my preference, and a new filter every time.

The internet led me to Dean Man bike workshop. I rang them up and they said they could do it any time. A busy ride to get there. Traffic in Bucharest is plentiful. But it turned out that he didn’t have an oil filter. He rang his supplier but he couldn’t deliver it until 15.00. No good to me. The solution was for me to go to the Honda dealer, who had a filter but no gasket for the filter cover. How stupid!
But fortunately they got the cover off without breaking the gasket, so all was well. But none of it was cheap! I’ve spent over £100, which surprised me. But I wanted it done and Bucharest was the ideal place to do it. I rode back to the hostel and took the panniers off. Then I found one of those jet wash places that seem to be everywhere. 10 Lei got the bike gleaming.

Next morning I left Bucharest to head across country to get to the Transalpina Pass. Another famous road, even higher that the Transfaragasan. It wound through the Carpathian Mountains. I wasn’t going to get there in one day so I’d booked a hotel not far from the road over the pass.

The first part of the ride was dull and tedious. Boring countryside and long sections of urban and industrial dreariness. The road was super busy, with endless streams of trucks. It was like that until about 1pm when I turned away from it. And it was after my much needed lunch stop that things improved. The road went up into the hills and the traffic eased off. Riding became fun. The final 60-70 kilometres were very enjoyable, with little traffic on a good road.

When I got to the hotel the door was open and my keys were on the reception desk, but with nobody there. Once I’d unpacked I went to go out. The woman was now at the desk so I paid her and asked her about places to eat. She directed to a small Romanian café/takeaway where I had the cordon bleu dish. This turned out to be a sort of breaded sausage, stuffed with pork and ham. Very nice, if a little salty. It came with chips and a bit of salad, all for less than half the price of my lunchtime roll and croissant! A tasty end to a long riding day. I’d now been on the road for two months on this part of the overall trip. Next day was to be twisty roads and high passes.

The road was very good indeed. I was very happy with the way I rode it, apart from one foray across the white line. It rose up to 1500 metres, which was where the Transalpina began.

I came to a road junction with lots of stalls and a group of German bikers there, all on big bikes. They were looking at my bike and I didn’t see any sneers. I tried to buy tea but ended up with blackberry infusion. Hot and OK.

The Transalpina went up to 2145 metres. A very twisty road, with loads of sharp bends. Good fun. No trees, just short cropped grass. Some nice views though. It had been built in Roman times and was mostly for driving sheep through the Carpathian Mountains. During the world wars it was given a proper surface but after that it was left alone and it deteriorated. In 2008 a decision was taken to refurbish it, mostly for tourists to use. It didn’t really have any commercial potential because it was closed by the weather for six months of the year. And there was a better road lower down. Suspicions of corruption behind that reasoning abound.

Once down the other side it was a pleasant ride into Turgu Jio. It was when I tried to find my accommodation that the fun began. The address on Booking was completely wrong. I found myself in a housing estate where the block numbers only went up to 56. I needed 94.

A friendly, English speaking biker helped me out. I’d tried to call the owner but couldn’t get through. He got through on his phone and got the correct address, then led me there. About 1.5 kms away and in a completely different street. It was above a pizza place and next to an Irish bar. Handy!

Next day I aimed for a place called Sasca Romana, close to the Serbian border and out in the countryside. Google maps tried to turn me off down a side road and I nearly didn’t take it. I rode past and Google rerouted. But I turned back and rode down it after all. And I’m super glad I did. It was 80kms of heaven.

It ran through lovely countryside, twisting and winding all over the place. I was mentally on my game and handled all the bends very well, mostly. I misjudged one right hander and headed towards a car, which pulled over but it wasn’t really necessary. I’m not sure whether It’s me, the bike or the way it’s loaded, but I do have a bit of trouble with right handed bends. I have to concentrate far more than on left handers and it’s harder work. I force myself to keep up the speed and just make it work! Practice makes me better.

The road ran through small villages, but not too many of them. I kept the speed fairly low and just enjoyed riding. It went up into the hills at one point and it was a really lovely ride. I liked the odd shaped hayricks in the fields, some of them twisted into strange shapes.

The guesthouse I stayed at was out in the countryside and had clearly been recently refurbished. The young mother who runs it is very nice, with a sweet little girl. She also runs a small bar, with coffee too. That means I can get a hot drink in the morning. Some other people there told me of a pension in the nearby village that does food.

There were a couple of things to visit not far away so I walked up the hill and then, inevitably, down again. I found a path to a suspension bridge that crosses the River Nera.

Suspended on two steel hawsers and made from planks, it was a swaying walk across to the other side. Along the path there was Casa Verde. This is a collection of mud buildings with whimsical designs, reminding me very much of Hobbit houses. Clearly aimed at kids having fun, although a collection of beer bottles on a windowsill slightly gave the lie to that.

When I got back I walked down to the junction and turned right, onto the road that led down to Sasca Montana and so to Pension Dora.

I had a very nice meal of grilled trout with polenta, which is made from ground yellow corn. It was plenty enough for me and was delicious, if a little expensive. But then, fish always is.

Then I walked back to the guest house, up the hill that had looked very steep when I went down it but was quite easy in the end. Maybe the beer helped.

The plan for the next day was to go to the Serbian capital of Belgrade, before making plans for the rest of the country.