moldova & transnistria

Exploring a slice of Europe's Untrodden East 

journey profile

Where: Chisinau, Tiraspol, Bendery. Moldova and Transnistria, Europe
When: October 2015
Highlights: Being in a country which doesn't exist, Chisinau Hotel, Christ Cathedral and Belltower, St Tiron Cathedral, Arc De Triumph, Water Tower, Soviet Circus, Chisinau Railway Station, Communist Era Architecture, Novo Nyametsky Monastery, Bendery Fortress, Tiraspol City Hall, Supreme House of the Soviets, Lenin Statue, St George Chapel, Church of the Nativity.
How: WizzAir flights, Tour guide, Taxis, AirBnB, Airport transfers
Counter: 2 countries
Illnesses or mishaps: None

 

Moldova and Transnistria are two of only five countries in Europe I have yet to visit (the others are Monaco, San Marino and Belarus). As far as this continent goes I must say I have a bit of a thing for Eastern Europe. In my opinion the part of Europe which once resided behind the Iron Curtain is a fascinating one. It has a culture and aesthetic all of its own which makes a journey here more than worthwhile. The poker faced expressions of locals often mask a reserved but genuine warmth; its monstrous, but equally innovative, concrete buildings hark back to a failed communist system which is simultaneously evocative and melancholy; and the prevalence of security personnel, with a suspicion for anyone foreign holding a camera, exposes the paranoid, psychological hangover from that era. Moldova and Transnistria are the very essence of Eastern Europe distilled into geographically small spaces.

This was a trip to the very fringe of the continent, two capital cities which elicit only a faint murmur of recognition in the consciousness of most travellers. Consequently, both are a little unprepared for foreign visitors. Any tourist industry found here is almost exclusively geared toward the domestic market with its primary concern being the getting out of locals, not the welcoming of aliens in. This, however, is advantageous - an opportunity. Rarely visited means authenticity - the chance to experience places without the distorting, and homogenising, effects of mass tourism. Indeed, even the travellers' bible Lonely Planet, in its 480 page Guide to Eastern Europe, offers only a paltry 21 pages for both countries combined. In this Destination Chronicle I hope to go some way to redressing this imbalance and help, in my own insignificant way, to raise the profile of these two very interesting places. A visit to Moldova and a cross-border foray into its estranged neighbour Transnistria really is dipping your toe into an untrodden, and arguably unspoilt, Europe. It was a journey I did on my own and absolutely loved, renting an apartment with a small kitchen in central Chisinau as my base. Moldova and Transnistria were, respectively, my 69th and 70th countries.

 

 

moldova

the poorest country on the european continent

Sandwiched between Romania to the west and Ukraine to the east, Moldova has the unenviable record of being the poorest country in Europe as well as one of its youngest having achieved full independence in 1991 following the collapse of the USSR. Moldova's independence brought a new flag (the Romanian one but with the Moldovan coat of arms in the centre) and the removal of the Soviet-imposed Cyrillic alphabet in favour of the Latin script. Moldova is also one of the most corrupt countries in Europe - a fact which threatens to leave dead in the water its attempts to join the EU. Indeed, a protest by communists against government corruption closed roads in the capital during my stay. Communists protesting against corruption? Things must be bad! None of this, however, should put you off travelling here - I left feeling a real affection for the country and its people.

Up until this point, I could find no direct flights from the UK to Moldova - all were indirect and involved more than one airline. A friend's recent trip to Moldova as part of a wider tour got me researching again. The Hungarian airline, WizzAir, was beginning direct flights from London to the Moldovan capital. I seized upon the opportunity and booked myself on their inaugural flight.

 

chisinau

the wonderful moldovan capital

My expectations of Chisinau were low. Least visited capital city on the European continent is no record to be proud of. Many capital cities boast superlatives, but Chisinau harbours diminutives. However, it was this record which first intrigued me, never being one to follow the crowd (and often choosing to walk in the opposite direction). On my first morning, the invaluable help of a kind young lady from a travel agent, who took me from kiosk, to post office, to shop and then to book shop, secured me, at a cost of 65p, a tourist map of the capital. A city which had initially intimidated me became instantly navigable, allowing me to tick off all key sights with relative ease. The more I walked, the more I saw and the more I appreciated the city.

Being a solo traveller in a place where travellers do not often go makes you a bit paranoid and self conscious. Will people stare at me? Will I get strange looks? Will I irritate the security personnel? Having spent two full days exploring the city on foot I quickly learned to get over myself. I was not that important to them! In fact, I would go so far as to say that I was almost invisible to the majority of Chisinauians. As a result, I felt completely safe, unhassled and began to relax - taking photographs of whatever I wanted (although I did get one dumbfounded expression from a woman when she spotted me photographing an empty concrete planter on the pavement!)

Contrary to what you may read online, Chisinau is fascinating. One piece of advice online dismissively claimed that one could see everything there was to see in "half a day". What rubbish. There are the golden onion domes of Russian Orthodox churches, street markets and flea markets, clapped out trolley buses defying the laws of mechanics, coffee shops being run out of the back of vans (and serving the best coffee anywhere), characterful buskers and babushkas, buildings in a state of wonderful fairytale decay, wide tree-lined boulevards with Neo gothic, Moorish, Stalinist, Brutalist and everything-ist architecture, humorous graffiti symptomatic of a thriving counter culture... Chisinau was a pleasure to be in - made even more so by the glorious sunshine and blue skies which lit up buildings, and thus my photographs, beautifully, during my time. Chisinau: listen to the ignorance of others and miss out.

 

The Birth of Christ Cathedral and Bell Tower.

 

Men play giant outdoor chess in Cathedral Gardens under the watchful gaze of the Bell Tower and, right, the Liberation Monument commemorating the Soviet liberation of Moldova in 1944.

 

The Triumphal Arch in front of the Moldovan Parliament.

 

Light-hearted Chisinau: a love heart installation with couples' padlocks of love and, right, a planter painted in the colours of the Moldovan flag.

 

Two of my favourite examples of graffiti in Chisinau which allude to a healthy counter culture.

 

The pages of newspapers are displayed in cabinets for people to read along Cathedral Gardens. Can't they just buy a copy? I don't get it. I love the autumnal trees in this image.

 

Chisinau shopping: my choice of coffee shop was one built into the back of a van. My cappuccino cost just 70p and was the best coffee I'd tasted during the entire trip. Right, underground subway shopping so characteristic of Eastern Europe. Buy soap powder, hair extensions or school books whilst simultaneously crossing the road!

 

This flea market was one of the most humbling and anger-inducing sights of my trip. A closer inspection of this colourful scene reveals the desperation of people to make a few extra Leus. They are selling everything and anything: broken belt buckles, spoiled books, trinkets... Laid before me were the remaining 'valuables' of Chisinau's poor lovingly spread out on blankets and net curtains on the ground. I left feeling quite angry that people were reduced to such means. Pitiful and powerful.

 

A Lenin book is for sale alongside one of a Scooby-Doo and, right, Lenin busts for sale alongside other communist-era memorabilia including medals and coins.

 

Brutalist Chisinau: the huge concrete bulks of the MoldTelecom building and the National Bank.

 

A cosmic concrete display featuring photographs of Chisinau's landmark buildings.

 

Soviet-era cosmic-design planters, so typical of Eastern Europe, all have one thing in common - no plants!

 

The telecom tower, an apartment block, lamp posts with a cosmic design and uncompromising trolleybus wires all combine to create this picture of wonderful ugliness.

 

The wonderful Brutalist architecture of the Hotel Cosmos.

 

Moldova's communist architectural heritage: the hammer and sickle and red star motifs still appear on the fascias of Chisinau's grander buildings. In some other former communist countries these have been removed.

 

Being Europe's poorest country, the capital does have a very grim side. Too many people live in collapsing tenements buildings. I do like, however, the symmetrical concrete arrangement outside the entrance to this one.

 

Chisinau Railway Station's Moorish architecture.

 

Chisinau Railway station: the Train of Grief monument whose inscription reads 'In memory of the victims of the communist regime's deportation'. Right, a woman in typical Eastern European work garb sweeps the entrance to Chisinau Railway station.

 

The remarkable Soviet circus. Circus performers from the then Moldavia Soviet Socialist Republic (MSSR) were some of the best in the union resulting in Chisinau being granted its very own circus building.

 

Chisinau Water Tower and, right, the Chisinau Hotel built in the unmistakable Stalin Palace style.

 

Two stray dogs playing in the leaves take an interest in me as I pass by.

 

A busker, wearing a characteristic eastern European hat reminiscent of the Soviet age, expertly plays the flute on the stairs down to the subway. And, yes, I did tip him.

 

 

transnistria

the breakaway country that doesn't exist

I first heard of Transnistria from Simon Reeve's BBC TV documentary series Places That Don't Exist (watch here). Transnistria, also called Transdniestr, Trans-Dniester or the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic (PMR) is a self-declared breakaway state running along the eastern edge of Moldova seeking full international recognition. Following the collapse of the USSR, Moldova looked west to Europe. Those living on the eastern bank of the Dniester River clung to their linguistic, political and cultural ties with Russia. Thus, in 1990, in an unremarkable theatre in Tiraspol, its defacto capital city, Transnistria declared independence from Moldova and in doing so triggered a bloody civil conflict. The Transnistrian side of the river held the lion's share of industry and weapons giving the newly-declared state the upper hand. It's worth pointing out here that Moldova itself broke away from Romania back in the 1940s and as far as many Romanians are concerned Moldova is Romanian sovereign territory ("Moldova is Romania" declared one piece of graffiti I saw in Chisinau). Transnistria is, arguably then, a breakaway state of a breakaway state. As far as the international community is concerned, Transnistria is not a country. It's part of Moldova. As far as Moldova is concerned it's part of Moldova. But as far as Transnistrians are concerned theirs is a functioning country with its own currency, passports, flag, police force, army, postal service and laws. So, on this trip, and depending on who you talk to, I either travelled from one country to another or I never left Moldova at all. As a traveller who has a nasty habit of counting his countries, this leaves me with a problem. Transnistria: to count or not to count? That is the question. The small fact of having to show my passport and obtain a visa to enter the territory are surely reasons enough to count Transnistria as my 70th country?

Transnistria's lack of international recognition means that the kind of consular assistance available to British travellers in an emergency evaporates at the demilitarised zone between Moldova and Transnistria. To put it bluntly, get in to trouble in Transnistria and you're pretty much on your own. After all, how can the British have an embassy or consulate in a country which officially doesn't exist? It is advisable that you secure yourself a reliable guide to show you around. Not only is this sage advice in the circumstances but it also means you'll get added depth to your experience and the Transnistrian perspective on things. My guide came in the form of Andrey Smolenskiy, the owner of Transnistria-tour.com, Transnistria's only tour agency catering to foreign visitors. A staunch advocate of his country and a character as intelligent as you will ever meet, he boomed, in his thick Russian accent, "Let's go to Transnistria!", bursting into a song in Russian about his beloved country as we zoomed towards the Transnistrian capital Tiraspol.

The bumpy road to Transnistria takes just over an hour, its roadsides punctuated by fantastically creative Soviet-era bus stops in all manner of designs. We stopped three times - once for an obligatory toilet stop, once for an obligatory photo of a bus stop and once to pick up some Moldovan "candy" before crossing the border into this paradoxical land.

Entry into Transnistria involves passing through Moldovan police lines, then a line of Russian peacekeepers, and then Transnistrian border guards sporting hammer and sickle emblazoned uniforms. Crossing the border into Transnistria is the moment the Latin script of the Moldovan language is replaced by the incomprehensible Cyrillic script of the Russian language. It's also the point at which the Moldovan Leu is replaced by the Transnistrian Ruble - a closed currency not available outside of the country. On changing my Euros at a currency desk in a Sheriff store, it took Andrey to point out that what I thought were some sort of plastic tokens or chips for exchanging money were the money! Never before has the pejorative 'Monopoly money' been more apt than in Transnistria.

Online chatter is awash with tales of Transnistrian border guards shaking down travellers for bribes and of laborious visa forms needing to be completed in triplicate. I braced myself... Obviously, things have improved since these travel tales of woe were written. My visa card took seconds to fill out - and it was done by the border guard, not me. It was electronically printed and came in the form of a single slip of paper not unlike a supermarket receipt. On my return journey on the marashrutka, a public minibus travelling from Tiraspol back to Chisinau, instead of being shaken down for a bribe by the border guard, I got a joke in broken English with a thick, heavy Russian accent: "Ha, English rugby bad, ha ha." Perhaps Transnistria has cleaned up its border act aware that greater international acceptance is more likely to be forthcoming when corrupt border guards have been replaced by ones with a bad sense of humour? Infinitely preferable in my opinion. Being a little jumpy travelling through this border on my own in the failing light, I was glad of his joke nonetheless.

 

Transnistria in and out: my Transnistrian visa and, right, the 16:05 marashrutka from Tiraspol back to Chisinau.

 

The bumpy road to Transnistria is punctuated by fantastically creative Soviet-era bus stops. This one takes Roman design as its inspiration with mosaics and Corinthian columns.

 

 

tiraspol

the transnistrian capital

Far from being an austere place crammed full of spying KGB officers, decaying buildings and the glum faces of an oppressed population, Tiraspol was bright, clean and dreamily tranquil. Shops gently hummed with activity, school kids excitedly skipped alongside their teachers on historical outings, well-maintained buildings bristled in the autumn sunshine and young people were dressed as fashionably as any I had seen back in Moldova. Everything seemed, well, normal. Where was this weird place stuck in a communist time-warp I had read so much about? It is clear that, where Transnistria is concerned, there is a lot of hyperbole written. However, I am not so naive as to think that there are not grains of truth in the cautionary tales I had read...

I was not able to take a photograph of the Transnistrian parliament building which is given the rather grandiose name of The Palace of Supreme Soviets: "It is forbidden to photograph the building but you can photograph Lenin" warned Andrey. The Lenin statue was directly in front of the building in question. "But that's impossible" I said. "I know, but it is the law" he replied. The photo I took ended up being a bit off centre and blurred - not because of poor photography skills you understand, but because I was being watched by someone I suspected was a plain clothed KGB officer who took to glaring at me from my left whilst I pretended to focus in on the Lenin statue but secretly getting the building in too. Perhaps I was becoming paranoid? A hard day's sightseeing in a country which doesn't exist requires a hearty meal. Andrey recommended a restaurant called 'Mafia'. Media reports of Transnistrian corruption, money laundering, weapons and drug smuggling resurfaced in my mind... but quickly evaporated when I tasted the pizza - the best I'd had in a long time! 

I was lucky enough to visit in 2015 as the country was celebrating its first twenty five years. In Tiraspol red banners dangled from buildings, and hoardings sporting the unmistakable communist symbolism of Soviet times lined wide boulevards celebrating this crucial Transnistrian anniversary. Whilst statues of Lenin and hammer and sickle symbols remain in tact - revered even, they nevertheless seem hypocritical and at odds with Transnistria's reality: rampant capitalism where everything is up for sale. Despite all appearances, Transnistria is no communist idyll but a contradictory mix of borrowed, dated symbols and brute market forces with a murmuring undercurrent of socialism. I found these elements difficult to reconcile...

However, a little more careful thought I realised the real reason behind this uniquely Transnistrian concoction. Clearly, unlike so many other former communist countries, Transnistria chooses not to delete its past, chooses not to shamefacedly sweep its heritage under the twenty first century carpet of capitalism. Instead, it retains its symbols, its statues and its place names - so unlike Latvia, Georgia and Bulgaria, for example, where the hammer and sickle symbol has been sand-blasted off from the fascias of buildings and where red star tops have been relegated to indoor museums. I am rather glad Transnistria has this approach otherwise there would be nothing left for me to photograph. Retaining its historical links gives Transnistria an air of continuity where others have opted for discontinuity and discombobulation. Arguably, transition and progress comes from taking your past with you, not killing it off and pretending it never existed.

Some travellers head only to Transnistria because of its quirky value - basically, to be able to say they've been there. This, however, is to underestimate the beauty that can be found here. Sure, there's the absurdity of standing in a country which 'doesn't exist' but, as these photographs testify, there are some pretty wonderful things to see. The fact that they are in a place mired in so much controversy, with an added hint of menace, only adds to their allure. There are the golden onion domes of Russian Orthodox churches and chapels, the graceful Tiraspol City Hall built in the Stalinist style and you can also travel on what is, perhaps, the most rudimentary car ferry anywhere in Europe, comprising of a single floating deck, a metal cord, two men - and a dog. Welcome to Tiraspol, capital of the break-away, renegade Republic of Transnistria... 

 

Standing in front of one of Transnistria's celebratory three-dimensional displays heralding its first 25 years. The sign reads 'I heart Transnistria 25'.

 

An administrative building in Tiraspol carries the banner of celebration but also the bullet holes of war.

 

Tiraspol City Hall, graced by a bust of Lenin, built in the Stalin Palace style.

 

A hammer, sickle and star display along a roadside and, right, a defiant Lenin bust outside Tiraspol City Hall.

 

Soviet-tastic: an outdoor display commemorates important people from Transnistria's history and includes the first president of Transnistria Igor Smirnov.

 

Two very Soviet bill boards celebrating Transnistria's 25th anniversary with an uncompromising red zeal.

 

The Palace of Supreme Soviets. "It is forbidden to photograph the building but you can photograph Lenin" warned Andrey. The Lenin statue was directly in front of the building in question. "But that's impossible" I said. "I know, but it is the law" he replied. This is the result - a bit off centre but only because I was being watched by someone I suspected was a KGB officer in plain clothes who was glaring at me from my left.

 

The plastic coins of the Transnistrian Ruble - a currency for a country which does not exist and is worthless anywhere else. Right, a 50 Ruble note featuring the Supreme Soviets parliament building I photographed above.

 

Transnistrian transport: going across the river on the rudimentary ferry and, right, a bus carries the country's obligatory revolutionary symbolism.

 

The iconic and wonderful St George Chapel on the Memorial of Glory Square.

 

The Great Patriotic War Tank on the Memorial of Glory Square, a Soviet-built T34, commemorating WWII and, seemingly, guarding the Supreme Soviets parliament.

 

The Eternal Flame along 25th October Street and, right, another nationalistic street sign incorporating the three stripes of the Transnistrian flag.

 

The grand entrance of an Orthodox cathedral in central Tiraspol. One problem with Transnistria is, because so few people travel here, it is difficult to track down the names of things online. Therefore, the name of this rather stunning sight remains unknown to me at present.

 

Cute Tiraspol: a petite red street kiosk and, right, a cheerful bus stop carrying an advert for a circus.

 

Tiraspol Theatre, the place where Transnistrians declared their independence from Moldova in 1990.

 

Tiraspol statues: Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space; looking eastwards with Lenin; Pushkin the great Russian poet and playwright. 

 

The wedding cake-like Eastern Orthodox Church of the Nativity.

 

 

bendery

In Search of Classic Beauty in the Demilitarised Buffer Zone

Bendery is in a demilitarised buffer zone on the western bank of the Dniester River between Moldova and Transnistria. Travelling here, outside of Tiraspol the capital, gives you a chance to soak up the region's classic history. There is the dramatic Ottoman fortress at Bendery. Until recently, the 16th Century fortress was off limits to the public, as it was home to a functioning Russian army base. Indeed, during my visit I did notice a number of khaki-clad army officers as I ascended the steps to the viewing turret. The beautiful Novo Nyametsky Ascension Monastery is nearby, home to a collection of elegant religious buildings and monks quietly going about their duties.

 

Bendery Fortress : two of the fortress' eleven stone towers.

 

The austere Chitcane War Monument. During the 1992 War of Transnistria, Chitcane was the scene of gun battles between Moldovan forces on one side and Transnitrian separatists on the other. Right, a dramatic sculpture at the entrance to a military and domestic vehicle repair centre so typical of the socialist realist style of sculpture.

 

The landscape of Bendery and beyond seen from the elevation of the Chitcane War Monument.

 

The beautiful Novo Nyametsky monastery bell tower and, right, a ceiling mural in its entrance.

 

The Novo Nyametsky Ascension Monastery.

 

 

videos

At Bendery Fortress overlooking Bendery.

Leaving Tiraspol at dusk - the view from the marashrutka to Chisinau.

 

 

travel tips

  • Organise a tour with transnistria-tour.com to be sure of getting a local perspective on things. It is also almost impossible to obtain a map of the city making it hard to locate the things you want to see. 
  • Make sure you avoid taking any photographs at the Moldova / Transnistria border. I normally sneak a shot of my border crossings but on this occasion chose not to take the risk.
  • If you're intending to shop or eat in Transnistria be sure to take Euros or US Dollars with you to change at a kiosk. Moldovan Leu are not accepted in Transnistria - except to pay for a bus ticket back to Moldova.
  • Most travellers visit Transnistria for the day on a ten hour visa. Your visa will have an expiration time on - you must be out of the country by then. Check the return bus times - the last one back to Chisinau was around 6pm.
  • Give Chisinau a couple of days on your itinerary - it is a lovely city to wander around in and perfect for a city trip.
  • Obtaining a tourist map, or 'harta touristica', is hard. Get one before you leave .

 

you may also like