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We started by driving down to and through the city centre where we found a place to park the car close by the harbour. At one point my friend got his phone out to take a picture of the car in front of us, and I had to ask why he was doing so.
"It's a Tesla," he replied.
So I'm probably embarrassingly bad at cars…but in this case it was perhaps made worse by the fact that I've even got a ride in a Tesla just like a month ago ish, so surely I should have recognized the sign, symbol, I've even forgotten what you call that car thing… But I didn't until he told me. I had told another (Icelandic) friend that I had driven a Tesla, but it had been very much of an anticlimax when he said he had done so on several occasions… So at least this time I could say it and evoke a bit of jealousy.
W then headed towards Potemkin stairs (just loads of stairs but apparently a bit symbolic for Odessa) since I had seen on the map that they were nearby - and it looked like they were the best and closest way into the centre. There were a lot more people around the stairs than there had been on the way there. People taking pictures and selfies - and yes, we joined them in doing so, as there was a nice view of the Black Sea from up there. There was also some sort of car convention up there; really - and I mean really - fancy sports cars up there. Some were quite strange, like bright orange for example. And there were lots of people with huge cameras taking pictures of the cars. As we continued walking past the steps, the sports cars got replaced by really old cars, and there were speakers with music and I'm assuming some type of commentary on the cars. I'm not actually sure.
Ukraine was certainly already a huge improvement to Transnistria. There were just so many more people around, though fair enough, it was Saturday… And shops and cafés - and a billion pharmacies. They have so many pharmacies in some places, I've seen it in other cities too. While we had been waiting on a red light in the car, I had counted four visible pharmacies just from where we were standing! One of the first places we passed was a t-shirt shop with "funny" t-shirts. They had tweaked the names of some of those exclusive brands like Gucci and Yves Saint Laurent, but also other things like eBay, and then replaced it with a name that sounds similar but means something in Russian. Like Jean Paul Gautier had turned into Jean Paul Gotter, where gotter apparently means cat, and then there was a picture of a cat on the t-shirt. My friend laughed a lot as we entered the store but you'd probably need to know Russian to appreciate them since, even after he translated them for me, I didn't find then quite as funny as he did. He ended up buying a t-shirt for his sister that read Luis Bidon and then there was a picture of a red buckety thing. I understood that one because it's the same in French.
We walked around for a bit, past the main street which was so full of restaurants and food booths, through a small but very nice looking park where something else was going on with a tent and someone speaking into a microphone, past the beautiful Opera and Ballet House, and around and inside the cathedral. It was unusually bright inside and very pretty. I had entered with my scarf over my head since we had seen a few women come out wearing them, but once inside it seemed a bit more relaxed. And at least nobody complained about us smiling.
There were lots of people selling all kinds of things around the back of the church. I looked at some hairpins because you don't see those often nowadays. A man, who I assume had been sitting in the grass enjoying the sun, came running from nowhere to tell us (or my friend, since it was in Russian), all about the hairpins; the different type of woods in the different ones, the prices, the quality… He even tried to show us in the air how to do it. As I said, I was mostly looking at them because you don't see them that often, and I had a really beautiful one but part of the end (the "decoration" part) broke so…but I hardly use those things anyway so I said I'd think about it. My friend "translated" for the man that we might need to get some cash.
There was also an upper middle-aged woman selling all kinds of stuff but it caught my eye that she had postcards. Not many, but the only ones I had seen so far, so I thought that this would maybe be my only chance. I think both my friend and I were very surprised when she started speaking to me in English, telling us the prices and that if we needed help or wanted to ask anything then that was fine. She also asked where I was from and was certainly surprised when I told her so. My friend and her also exchanged some sentences in Russian; like the Matryoshka dolls (you know the Russian wooden dolls that you open and then there's a smaller one inside) she was selling, she had painted herself. I hadn't noticed it because I had spotted the postcards before I had seen her, but now I saw a mostly unpainted doll on the table by her seat. She wasn't just making normal ones but their…aprons(?) had motives on them of cities or landscapes. She had sketched out the drawing with a pencil. Quite impressive. I got the postcard, or that is, my friend got it for me…it was only two roubles anyway, and then we started looking for a place to eat.
We started by going back to the main street with the billion food places…but we were both too indecisive to pick a place despite being quite starving. But because there were so many restaurants around, there was also free WiFi around…so we got onto TripAdvisor and found a restaurant. We didn't actually read the reviews and it wasn't the first one on the list but my friend saw it and said they had a lot of reviews so we went there. It wasn't on the main street so that in itself was perhaps a decent sign. We were still in the city centre but there were considerably fewer "things" around. A tea store nearby. A bar or cafe. But not every building was meant to attract people.
It looked quite full on the little patio when we got to the restaurant but we were lucky to get a table outside. There were lots inside as well though but the weather was so good, it'd have been a waste to sit inside. I don't remember if the waiter spoke English or if my friend translated…but he basically introduced himself with his name(!) and said that he'd be the one serving us. We took our time looking at the menu, mainly because everything sounded so good - and as I said we were really hungry. It was actually an Italian place but they didn't have all the typical things. They had lasagna, which I eventually ordered, but they also had some house specialities, like the…duck ravioli with truffle oil that my friend got…and some other really delicious sounding pastas. We ordered a bottle of lemonade to share.
We didn't have any expectations about the place since we hadn't read the reviews…and by the time the food got there, my feeling of hunger has faded a bit so I don't even think it was the hunger speaker….but oh-my-god… So the waiter came out with a piece of lasagna on a plate. Nothing weird about that, but my friend's dish came in a clay plate with high edges. A bit like a clay oven form but the size of a plate… I thin layer of dough had been put over the plate to cover it, so we actually had no idea what was underneath it. Then the waiter poured some stuff onto it, which we now figure must have been alcohol, and then he lit it.
You should have seen our faces. I wonder who was more entertained: the waiter or us… You could barely see the fire because of the sun light, but there was a fire. After it had burned for a bit, baking the dough, he took a knife and cut the bread 'off' the plate, then used the knife to fold the layer of bread, as if it was a napkin or something, and put it on top of the ravioli that got revealed underneath. As if we weren't amazed enough, the waiter the brought out like white single-use bibs, and tied one with a blue tie painted on it around my friend's neck (and we were sort of giggling like children), and then he came around my side to give me one with blue beads painted on it.
As I said, I don't think it was the hunger speaking (at least not on my behalf) but maybe, maybe the amazement from the fire at the table and the bib-binding…but the food, both my lasagna and my friend's pasta was just…oh my God, so good that I have no words for it. After we finished, I got to peel the dough (and bread) off the side of his plate and dip it in what was left of the truffle oil - that's how good it was. As I said, I think the waiter was entertained, and told us later with a smile when we were about to leave that 'if you come back, you'll come here again'. (No doubt!).
When the waiter asked if we wanted dessert, we said we could check the menu. Plus, I think my friend wanted a coffee so we could just as well get something with it. However, the waiter told us it was probably better just to go inside to see what they had. Inside, the decoration was great, and you could see the ladies who were making the dough they had put on the plate, and it smelled amazing. They had a glass cupboard with desserts; cakes, puddings, fruit salads, tiramisu… We quite easily agreed on sharing a lemon pie.
I can still laugh at just how…blown away we were. The cake didn't bring us any closer down to earth; it was so heavenly. And, just while I'm at it, the bathrooms were also sparkling and had those small towels for single use. Just everything was so great. And in case you're wondering what place is like a heavenly Italy outside Italy…the place was called Tavernetta. I told my friend that I never really bother writing reviews on Tripadvisor but that I'd definitely leave them one. I still haven't…but maybe I'll do it now.
Anyway, back to earth. I wanted to go on an underground tour of Odessa, but we had had lunch quite late (we sat down at 1.30 PM), so we had missed the tour. Instead, we headed back to the car and drove some 15-20 minutes to get to the other side of town where they had a beach. We had to pay for parking, which was a bit unexpected because the map had just shown a street; not a parking space. But the entire street, and the streets leading from there, was apparently part of the paid space. We tried to find a space in the shade since we had some leftover milk from the breakfast and the Moldovan chocolates in the back of the car.
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We got out on a pier just to get a view of the beach, and further out to see the Black Sea, which I've never seen before. My friend has never seen the ocean though. I know that many people haven't…and I have friends in Africa who, when I met them, had never seen snow before. But somehow this was more shocking to me, even though I realize he lives in a landlocked country. But having lived by the ocean almost all my life - and on an Atlantic island for 8-12 years depending on how you count, it's just so far removed that somebody cannot have seen the ocean. So we stood there for a while just enjoying the view of the huge sea.
We walked to the end of the beach, which wasn't all that long though. At the point where we couldn't walk further, there were some big rocks in the sea from which my friend asked me to take his picture. Since we were at it anyway, I decided to also ask for my picture. I could maybe/probably have got up on the rock without getting into the water, but I nevertheless decided it was safer to take my sneakers and socks off before getting up there - and damn, the water was even colder when dipping my feet! When I got down again, I tried to get used to the water to just stay there and wade around for a bit, but after a minute my feet started hurting, that's how cold my body was perceiving it to be. So I gave up and got out of the water. I found a place to sit so that I could let my feet dry in the sun, in order to put my socks and sneakers back on.
After my feet had dried, we headed back to the car. It was still quite early; around 5PM, even though we had said we had to leave at 6PM the latest in order to get back in time for the Eurovision finals. We found a souvenir shop on the way back though, because just like I want a postcard from every place I visit, my friend wanted to get a magnet for his fridge. The guy in the store told us about some famous lighthouse, so we thought we could go see that before heading back to Moldova, but when we got back into the car, we saw on a downloaded map of Odessa that the lighthouse was on some island, on the other side of town, back towards the city centre… So we eventually decided to just head back a bit early instead.
It was a rather interesting drive out of town; I was looking at the map telling my friend where to go. Now, just with the street we had stayed in, the map shows even the crappiest streets as normal streets. I promise you that if a street had been that tiny and in that condition, it would have only shown up as a path or something at home. But basically, it was, according to the map, the most direct way to the highway (but because of its condition, not necessarily the fastest way). Again, we were driving at 5 km/h because of the dirt and holes. There was also a minor flood on one section, though we don't know how since it hadn't rained and probably hadn't for days. My friend kept asking me over and over if we were really on the right way, but I convinced him that we were. And indeed, we finally got to a bigger (which in this case also means better) road, and found our way back to the holy road leading back to the border. Even though it was our last day, I decided to put one of my crime podcast on the speakers. I guess partially to (try) to keep myself awake, and partially because I felt like I had been travelling for an unusually long time without listening to a podcast.
The Ukrainian border was pretty pain-free again. So was the Transnistrian border. At least the one when entering Transnistria. However, as we were leaving Transnistria, my friend had taken my passport and got out. I was waiting in the car with a radio that lived its own life; even though we'd be listening to music on my phone, it'd switch source to suddenly listen to the radio, even though we weren't even touching it. The settings for the radio was much louder than my music, so it'd always be really damn down and we'd always jump the first time it did it. Then we'd learn that the radio kept switching back, but by that time you'd at least be prepared so you could keep your hand on the 'source' button. And while the customs were checking the boot with my friend, the radio suddenly decided to come on, on like full volume. I think my friend laughed, even though I wouldn't know. Anyway. After that, my friend disappeared, and like for a really long time. I had left the radio on because Carla's dreams was playing and I was ready for him to be back so we could sing along and headbang or whatever but he didn't come. The next song played, and the next, and the next. Eventually another car turned up behind us, but I didn't dare move the car, and the passport control guys didn't tell me to move the car anyway.
I don't know for how long I sat there, but at least 15 minutes, though probably more…when my friend eventually came, really frustrated - but we were fine to drive. He explained why it taken so long.
So basically… As I said, Transnistria is like a country within a country, even though it officially belongs to Moldova. They have their own borders, which means that if you exit Moldova through Transnistria, Moldova won't have a clue about you having left the country. I had a colleague who had lived in Moldova illegally for a year. How did he manage to leave without them catching him? He left through Transnistria… If he goes back to Moldova, he probably won't be very welcome, and it'll look weird because it will say that he never left the country in the first place. And that was indeed my problem, or so the border guys had said; I'd have a stamp (proof) that I had entered Moldova. I'd have a stamp that I had entered Ukraine, but no exit stamp from Moldova. And because of this, I'd probably get in trouble or at least get questioned when leaving Moldova the following day, because I was missing an exit stamp. It was fine for my friend because…well, he wasn't leaving the country, and he was a national. And basically my friend was angry because of course nobody in Transnistria had told us about this 'exit stamp' when leaving Moldova/Transnistria to enter Ukraine the day before. But the guys had told my friend to speak to the Moldovan police, and maybe they could get it fixed.
Once we got onto 'real' Moldovan territory, we therefore stopped at some point where there was a police or border guy standing there. My friend was gone for a while again, and when back, he said the guy couldn't give me a stamp because he was not part of the border, so we had to speak to the police in Chisinau. So we drove back to town, and arrived around 9PM. Eurovision was starting in an hour and we didn't really have anything to eat at my friend's place, but he said the police station was really close to his place so we went there anyway.
My friend said I could wait in the car but I wouldn't miss a Moldovan police station for the world. It was already a very different experience from at home. At home, you'd have lit-up signs showing that the building belongs to police, and it'd probably be quite a noticeable building, and there'd definitely also be a something in English about 'police'. However, this was all but noticeable; no sign…no lit-up things…nothing in English. It looked like any other old Soviet-like house, and we even had to drive into some backyard ish to get there. Even the backyard didn't have a sign as to where the entrance was.
Admittedly, and perhaps thankfully, I've never really been at a police station except to get a new passport, and I think I once wanted to ask something in Iceland but they said I couldn't take my request forward without filing a report, which was unnecessary (I can't really remember what it was all about) so I didn't. And neither of my experiences really correspond with my expectations for a police station so maybe I shouldn't be the one to 'judge' but…we entered a cold, dark-lit staircase, with a metal gate (like the ones they have on train stations) if you were to go upstairs. There wasn't a single civilian around. Just a police man sitting by a completely normal table (not even a desk) with no papers, no anything, to the right…and some guys sitting behind like a booth just by the table, also just chatting. Another police man was standing by the metal gate, just on his phone. Nobody seemed to be doing any work.
My friend didn't know who to approach and just started talking to the two guys who were outside the booth. They both replied…had a conversation. At one point the guy at the table went outside to call someone or just smoke a cigarette, while my friend and the police guy at the gate kept talking. Though I hardly understood a word, I could tell from the policeman's expression that it was just a minor detail and that it wasn't anything to worry about.
When we left, my friend said that they had told us to just tell the border that we had left through Transnistria in case they'd ask, but that they probably wouldn't. My friend didn't seem convinced though, and I think/know he was still quite worried about it. I didn't think any more of it though, and was just happy to get back to his place 15 minutes before Eurovision was about to start. We didn't have much food though; just some cheese I had bought after one of my runs, and a bit of sour cream that we could dip the grissini in. A few slices of ham left from our sandwich 'factory' - plus a hell load of Russian cookies and Moldovan chocolate. It was enough though.
I won't tell you about our top 10 predictions, because it probably gets boring unless you're into all this, but we had a good evening (i.e. night) watching. I used the time during the interval acts to write some postcards as well. After all, we had 35 postcards from Transnistria!! On top of that I took 9 cards with me home. It was way more than I wanted; I had decided on one for my wall, but my friend insisted I take more. So I took 9, plus the, I think 4, that I wrote there. Again, it's surreal being in Eastern Europe during Eurovision, as it didn't end until 2AM. Though I had wanted to cry of exhaustion the night before in Ukraine, I was now wide awake and we ended up chatting until 5AM in the morning.
Day 17-18: Going home
We had calculated we needed to leave at 3PM at the very latest, but probably earlier. 2PM wouldn't hurt. We had set the alarm to 9AM so that I'd have time to pack, buy some food with me, and I think we had plans on maybe visiting his sister again, or else I don't remember why we set the alarm to 9AM. However, my anticipated 4h of sleep turned into 3h, as I woke up at 8AM of an extremely painful cramp in my left lower leg forcing me to get out of bed, even though I felt like I could hardly move, to somehow get rid of it. I think I had got it while stretching, because I sort of remember the moment the cramp started so I must have been only half asleep. Every time I stretch, in my sleep or early morning, I'm still careful and aware of the risk of getting that insane cramp again. Indeed for the rest of the day my left leg felt different from my right…as if the cramp was just lingering around waiting for the right time to attack again.
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We had meant to go to the post office as well to post my postcards as well, but we realized it was Sunday so…I left some Moldovan cash with my friend so he could send them for me, I wouldn't be needing it anyway. I also meant to, or thought of exchanging the Romanian money I had with him because of the restaurant that last day in Bucharest, but now that I was flying via Romania, he told me I might actually want to keep it. So when I was done packing, we hurried out the door. It was around 2PM. My flight was at 7.30PM from Iasi airport to Bucharest, then onwards from there at like 8 in the morning. We had checked the bus times to Iasi the night before but all of the times had been extremely inconvenient so we had decided to play it a bit by ear. Just drive to the border, and then I'd probably manage to get to Iasi somehow from there. My friend wouldn't be able to join both because he had to return the car before 8PM and because we didn't have the papers to enter with the car. In Iasi I'd take another bus to the airport. It was supposed to be a 2 hour drive ish to the border. 3 to Iasi in total if everything went according to the plan.
We started driving and everything was fine. We were talking about a billion things and talking about funny stories. After an hour or so the radio started living its own life again. But after two we still weren't anywhere near the border.
You know when they do road work on a long section of the road, so there's only one way traffic? And they have a traffic light at the end of maybe a 5 km section? Which means you end up waiting on a red light for maybe 10 minutes. Well - that's what we ended up doing - like 3 or even 4 times! And then we'd get to a section with really great conditions and be surprised at how smooth the drive was, just to then be lead into another road that was terribly full of holes or gravel.
My friend was getting really worried about me missing my plane when we still weren't at the border at 5 PM. He said he had planned for me to have in Iasi by that time. Plus we didn't know if there'd be trouble at the border because of the missing exit stamp. However, you know my attitude: chill. You can't start worrying about a departure three hours ahead of time. You can't worry about trouble at a border before you know if there'll be any trouble, because if there isn't trouble, you've worried for nothing. It's like taking one day at a time, but one moment at a time. My poor friend couldn't even eat though we hadn't eaten in like 6 hours. I forced him to share a Russian cookie with me though but he didn't seem happy (I'm laughing while writing this by the way…)
I think it was around 6 PM when we finally reached the border. There were no buses around, hardly any cars either, but an insane queue of trucks for some reason, but which we could drive past. However, there was no parking lot so my friend had to park in the ditch ish, while waiting for cars for pass. The first car stopped and my friend said she had been super friendly but she had literally not had any space in the car. The next two ones didn't even stop and I won't even try to describe the worried look on my friend's face. We had seen a lot of people hitching rides on the way to the border and he had told me it was quite common since, as I had learnt, the buses weren't super frequent. So he found it quite unusual that two cars had passed without even asking where we were going.
Eventually another car stopped that I was allowed to drive with to the airport for 45 Romanian lei. I had the money, since I had paid by card over a week ago in Bucharest, and then decided not to exchange it. This is what I meant by feeling like it was a game and decisions you make had very clear consequences later on; what had we done if I hadn't had 45 RON in my pocket? Had we managed to bargain? Or would I have missed my flight?
I didn't care and couldn't really afford to care about the price but when I later converted the money on my phone I was it was the same price as you pay in Iceland to get from the airport and into town - and that's not exactly cheap. As I now had I driver that was waiting, and two other girls who, I suspect, had got a ride through bla bla car, my friend and I didn't have time for a long farewell despite having spent an entire week together. I told him I'd message him when I got to the airport so he could calm down - and eat! But of course he was also in a hurry to get back to the car rental before they'd close.
Exiting Moldova was so pain free that I even forgot about the fact that I was missing a stamp. They did ask me what I had been doing in Moldova though.
"Tourism," I said.
"Why?" the guy asked standing with my passport outside the car and looking at me through the open door in the back.
I just said I had been visiting friends, but when I thought about it, I actually found it to be quite a strange question; What do you mean, "why"?! People don't usually have any other reason for tourism than because they just want to explore the world. Would he have been satisfied with such an answer? I wonder…
The driver didn't speak any English but the girl in the passenger seat did. I don't why, but she asked if I had any cigarettes. I suspect though that it might have to do with the fact that they went shopping cigarettes in the tax-free store since we were entering the EU - and that maybe there were only allowed a limited amount per car…or who knows.
She was quite friendly and asked how I had liked Moldova and what I had seen. She also asked where my friend had been from and I said he was from Moldova, which apparently surprised her because she said he had sounded Romanian. And that's also strange because I remember my friend saying he had listened to two Romanians speak without having a clue what they had been talking about… She herself was also from Moldova but studying in Iasi. I think that might be quite common, since my friend's sister had also studied there at the time.
After they had shopped tax-free, we passed the Romanian border. No questions asked there. Then drove towards Iasi. The airport was, thankfully, on the way to town, so we didn't have to drive through town to get there. One of the girls lived somewhere on the way though, so we dropped her off first. Then towards the airport. It was now 1h15 before departure and I obviously needed to check in my bag.
We got to the airport very precisely one hour before departure. I didn't have a fiver so I ended up paying him 50 RON. After that I still needed to take my computer and camera out of the main bag, and detach the smaller backpack from the big one to put my camera and laptop in it so that I wouldn't be checking any valuables in. Just as I was about to head to the counter, I remembered that my printed ticket was in the computer bag…in the small backpack. When it contains both the camera and the laptop, it's too small and tight to wiggle anything out without emptying it completely…so I had to get everything out of it (including my power bank, my placinta, charging cable…) just to get the stupid piece of paper out. Then I could finally check in.
She first offered to check me in all the way, but then check in wasn't open for the second leg of my journey so she told me I'd have to get my bag in Bucharest and then check in again in the morning. I thought that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea, then I could at least brush my teeth in the evening.
After I had checked in, everything was fine. They pretty much started boarding as soon as I had got through security and the airport was so small that the line to the gate started where I was standing repacking my bag at the end of the conveyor belt. I of course also messaged my friend to tell him I got there on time and that he could now stop worrying about me and get something to eat. He had two uneaten placintas while I had eaten mine in the car on the way to the border.
The flight was so short that I spent the entire time blogging. I hadn't written in ages since we had spent all the time together in the evenings to, which is also why I'm now two weeks behind.
I spent a very uncomfortable night at the airport in Bucharest with only a few hours of probably really bad quality sleep. Arrived home around 10 AM, and didn't even realize until I was just around the corner from my place that I had no idea where my keys were. Like no idea, I hadn't seen them since…in Cluj at the beginning of my trip so I must have put them somewhere very far away. Thankfully, my flatmate had told me our landlord would be at our place to fix some stuff around this time, so I tried my luck. And thank God, he happened to be there and let me in. Said it was lucky I hadn't got there 10 minutes later as he was just about to leave.
I checked all the side, inside and secret pockets and had unpacked more than half my bag still without any luck. I had given up on finding it for the moment, and was going to finish my work day first. Thank God I had some food in the freezer I could eat; I obviously couldn't go to the store to get anything.
It was around 5 or maybe even 6PM when I finally had the time to empty my bag, and found the keys in a pocket I had already searched - twice. Don't ask me how I missed it…
The day in Ukraine was two weeks ago today, and it's funny how you can miss a holiday so shortly after returning. But I loved the food (and the Russian cookies), I was spending time with close friends I don't even know when I'll be seeing again, and just travelling without the stress of always having to catch bus or a train somewhere, and no 5AM departures like in South America. It was just a really great trip, and very different from any recent trip.
My next trip is still unconfirmed so I don't know when I'll be back. But keep an eye out the photo page where I'll soon be adding stuff from Croatia and Bosnia, and I assume this trip. There's a new piece on my text page, and I might be adding some prose soon as well. Until next time!