More commonly known as Transnistria. this breakaway country sandwiched between Moldova and Ukraine also has a national constitution and parliament, plus postal service, police and other customary features of a sovereign nation.
But there’s a teeny problem: Transnistria doesn’t officially exist. This wannabe country is only recognised by two other breakaway territories, all formerly part of the Soviet universe. None of the 193 member states of the United Nations recognise its sovereignty. Because of its unresolved political status Transnistria is cut off from the international banking system. Tranistrians can sing their national anthem, but they can’t use a Visa card or travel abroad on their national passport.
Transnistria officially belongs to Moldova, but the locals had other ideas after Moldova declared independence from the USSR in 1991. The military conflict, known euphemistically as the events of 1992, froze the contested borders without resolving the political status. Ever since, there’s been a visible Russian military presence to keep the peace, including guarding the bridge spanning the Dniester River on the main road from Moldova’s capital.
Tiraspol, the capital and largest city of Transnistria, is just 50km from the Ukrainian border, which is presently closed. Road signs in the capital direct toward Odessa ‒ 100km but a world away in the third year of war. There was no indication of the war in Transnistria; life seems ‒ and by local accounts, is – unaffected by the conflict, except that Ukrainians are not allowed into Transnistria for fear of terrorism against the Russians. Although Moldova is formally neutral in the Ukraine-Russian conflict, more than 100,000 Ukrainians are taking refuge in Moldova. Still, the sight of armed Russian soldiers is jarring as Russia engages in war next door.
For the adventurous traveller a visit to Transnistria offers time travel back to the USSR. In the past year approximately 16,000 foreigners trekked to Tiraspol, which makes Transnistria one of the world’s least visited countries. The brutalist architecture of the government buildings reflects a Soviet style that, in most other parts of Eastern Europe, is passe. Other former Soviet territories have torn down or removed most (if not all) Lenin statues. Not here. And if you’re feeling nostalgic, several restaurants, including the aptly named ‘Back in the USSR’, double as anthropological showcases of that era.
In one restaurant, a giant map of the world circa 1985, highlighting the scope of the USSR then, captures how the world has dramatically evolved in 40 years. This change is apparent in Moldova, an often misunderstood and underappreciated country. In Moldova I expected a drab place with hospitality moulded in the Soviet style and food I wouldn’t want to touch. What I encountered in Chisinau, the capital and largest city, is something different: a walkable, likeable, growing-up city. There’s nothing particular to see but much to take in. I passed my time exploring the compact city centre, walking along the grand boulevard, admiring beautiful Eastern Orthodox churches and the Soviet architecture, popping into wine bars to taste local varieties (Moldova is a prolific producer) and sampling Moldavian staples.
COLLIDING WITH THE PAST
Perhaps my exit experience best typifies modern Moldova. When I arrived at Chisinau International Airport, the terminal was chaotic. Passengers jockeyed for position among the airport’s 10 check-in counters. It was a typical crowded airport scene. But something funky happened, which in all my travels I have never seen. Just as I thought it would be impossible to squeeze more people into this crowded space, dance music erupted. Then a troupe of choreographed dancers, decked in stylish pink airline uniforms, appeared for a synchronised performance. When the show ended, blue-and-white balloons and confetti dropped from the ceiling to the tune of the Rocky theme song… Gonna fly now, flying high now… It was surreal.
Do they do this every day, I wondered?
A few minutes later, an airport staff member passed out supersized cookies to each passenger waiting in the check-in lines, explaining that on this day Chisinau International Airport would handle its 3 millionth passenger of the year, a record. This is a remarkable milestone for a country that ranked as Europe’s least visited not long ago. Moldova is flying high now.
But modern Moldova soon crashed into old Moldova.
The departure area was as crowded as check-in: standing room only. I managed to snag a seat in the airport’s tiny lounge. A few minutes later I heard my name, spoken with a thick Romanian accent, echoing on the airport public address system. Something about my flight leaving NOW. Startled, I sprinted to the gate, which took all of one minute. The gate agent admonished me: My Azerbaijan Airlines flight to Baku has boarded and is ready to depart! I’m late! The gate is closed! I’m a bad person!
It was 30 minutes before the scheduled departure time. I was puzzled.
‘What’s the problem?’ I asked while pointing to the airport clock. My question didn’t go down very well. This visibly furious gatekeeper growled again, enraged by my confusion which she interpreted as insouciance. She threatened to offload my bag and deny boarding. That’s when I realised that underneath the veneer of modern Moldova lurks lingering vestiges of the old way of doing things. Airline schedules, it turns out, are indicative and not ironclad. The plane leaves when the crew feels like leaving. And front-line customer service personnel don’t care much about customers or service.
Just as I was souring on the country, modern Moldova re-emerged to save the day. With a wide grin, the agent who checked me in earlier handed me a new boarding pass. My punishment was an upgrade. This grinning agent, by now my new best friend, then escorted me to an awaiting van. We proceeded straight to the aircraft. I bolted up the stairs, the cabin crew closed the door, and off to Baku we went ‒ some 20 minutes early.
HOW I TRAVELLED: I stayed at the centrally located Nobil Luxury Boutique Hotel in Chisinau during my four-day Moldova sojourn. An example of modern Moldova, the Nobil exudes Ritz Carlton vibes with dark panelling, elegant furnishings and refined service – except for the snooty waiter in the hotel restaurant at breakfast, which was otherwise delicious. For a deeper understanding of the city, I joined the Free Tour Chisinau, a 2.5-hour walking tour led by the informed Irina. She provided colour and context to the city’s distinctive architecture and recent history.
My semi-private ‘Back in the USSR’ excursion to Transnistria was arranged by Moldova Tours. Ecaterina, my fun-to-be-with guide, also served as driver. She brought perspective to this complicated corner of the upper Balkans. This tour also included a visit to the Transnistria city of Bender and its 15th-century fortress and torture museum. I tried (unsuccessfully) to not imagine the horrors inflicted upon those on the wrong side of these blunt and brutal instruments. Down the street, Bender’s Transfiguration Cathedral calmed my mind. On the way out of Tiraspol, we stopped at a hypermarket to spend our remaining rubles, which would soon be worthless in Moldova.
Moldovan cuisine does not make it to the world culinary stage – yet. If food is the window to a nation’s soul, the restaurant scene in Chisinau is another illustration of how the country is under-appreciated. A staple of Moldovan and Romanian meals is placinta, a thin traditional pastry filled with fruit, cheese or vegetables. I enjoyed my leek-and-egg version at La Placinta, an upmarket local chain. For another glimpse into modern Moldova, I dined at Fuior, which reinterprets Moldavian cuisine (reservations recommended). At Fuior, I had the zeama (chicken noodle soup) but prepared with quail, followed by carp served with marmaliga, a polenta and another Moldovan staple. I paired the dishes with local white wines. For dessert I had the baba neagra, a uniquely Moldovan cake that translates to black baba. The colour comes not from cocoa but a reaction of oil, baking soda and buttermilk in the baking process.
Turkish Airlines connects Phuket with Moldova with a connection in Istanbul. Many Western nations do not require a visa to enter Moldova, which aspires to formally join the EU in 2030.
Adventurer and author Todd Miller has explored more than 100 countries on all continents. His Amazon bestseller ’ENRICH: Create Wealth in Time, Money, and Meaning’, was lauded by Forbes, USA Today, Entrepreneur and other global media. Todd resides at Natai Beach. www.enrich101.com