Nostalgia for the former Soviet Union is alive and well in Moldova and Transnistria. Ros Freeman revisits what was once - and perhaps still is - the USSR.
Main photo: Flickr user AMWRanes
The little red train tore through the tunnels of Cricova. The tunnel complex is huge, so lengthy there are road signs along the way. We whizzed past Cabernet Street and along Sauvignon Street, stopping at the occasional red light. Oh, how I wished to detour along Rosé Road, Pinot Parade or Champagne Crescent, but our train driver was on a course.
I’m visiting Moldova and experiencing what Moldova is best known for, its wine. This tiny European country is one of the world’s top wine producing nations. Eighty metres beneath the sleepy city of Cricova another world exists. There are 120km of tunnels, and within 8km of these tunnels 1.3 million bottles of wine are stored. It’s a happy marriage; the surrounding fertile land is ideal for grape growing, and the tunnels provide the perfect microcosm for the production and storage of wine. The tunnels are the result of excavated limestone used to rebuild Moldova’s capital, Chișinău, (pron. Kishinow) after it was bombed in World War II.
We toured some of the private collections stored within the tunnels. There are collections belonging to Angela Merkel, John Kerry, Joe Biden and even the remnants of Hermann Göring’s collection. The label had been removed from Vladimir Putin’s collection. No little red train for Vlad. When he’d visit the tunnels he’d travel in a gold-plated buggy. After the tour we were ushered into that hallowed of rooms, the Tasting Hall, where wines were tantalizingly presented, culminating in the scintillating Lacrimi Dulce, sweet tears. Our guide joked that when Yuri Gagarin visited, he became lost in the caves for hours. It was easier for him to get into space than out of the wine cellars of Cricova.
Moldova is Europe’s least visited country. Annually there are only 11,000 tourists. After neighboring Ukraine, it’s Europe’s poorest country. Recently 100,000 Ukrainian refugees settled here, 700,000 have passed through. The country’s 2.5 million population is a melting pot of Romanians, Russians, Ukrainians and Turks. The main language spoken is Romanian.
Another of Moldova’s best assets is Ecaterina, our tour guide. She is effervescent and a font of knowledge. She brings Moldova alive for Sarah from Manchester and myself. Not only Moldova, she also takes us on a day trip to the intriguing Transnistria.
Transnistria? So, where on earth is Transnistria, you might well ask. Transnistria is a sliver of country between Moldova and Russia. It’s an unrecognized, break-away state with a population of half a million. Until 1991 it was part of Russia. There is a military presence, however given that the last conflict occurred in 1992, it’s relatively safe.
The feeling here is Russian; the signage is Cyrillic, the currency is the ruble, Transnistrian ruble. However, they have their own flag, their own president, their own parliament and their own licence plates. The only national identity missing is a postal service.
At Tiraspol, the capital, we dined at ‘Back in the USSR’. It was a Soviet time warp. Waitresses wore lacey headpieces and aprons, the music was ABBA and Boney M, and the menu reflected the era. My chicken Kiev was just as I remembered it from my 1980s Russian visit. The cafe was filled with Lenin statues and paraphernalia from the 60s and 70s. Outside the entrance a 1960’s Volga and a Lada were parked.
The Lenin theme continued. He was sighted outside the colourfully decorated Tiraspol City Hall, and in front of the Parliament building. There were Lenins everywhere. How many Lenin statues are there are in the world I wondered? Many! There were also many war memorials. War has been an integral part of Russia. At the tomb of the unknown soldier, a small ceremony was in progress.
The golden domes glistened on the Russian Orthodox Church. Inside the walls were richly painted with stories of saints, including the Romanovs, Russia’s last royal family. They were murdered in 1918 and have since been beatified. Nearby was the historic Bender Fortress. Built in the 15th century. If only those walls could talk. It was captured by Suleiman the Magnificent, attacked by the Cossacks and eventually came under Russian rule. At the kiosk we were fortified in a different way, scoffing glasses of ten-year old cognac. It was only 11am, but Cheers, Nastrovia! So very Russian. It was fun to brush up some basic Russian; dar, nyet, speciba, and the best of all, those magic words, Prodazha obuvi (shoe sale). As the day drew to a close, and our visas were about to expire, it was time to say Dasvidanya to Transnistria.
Back in Chișinău I took a final walk around the city. The city is known as the White City due to its limestone buildings. Trolley buses run along the main streets. Magnolia trees and spring blossoms were full bloom. In Stephen the Great Park a man played the saxophone, children laughed and danced. Nearby the competing strains of Edith Piaf wafted from the Bonjour Cafe. A Teddy Bears’ picnic was in progress. I loved my four days in Moldova, but now it was au revoir to the Bonjour Cafe, and La Revedere to Moldova.
I’m visiting Moldova and experiencing what Moldova is best known for, its wine. This tiny European country is one of the world’s top wine producing nations. Eighty metres beneath the sleepy city of Cricova another world exists. There are 120km of tunnels, and within 8km of these tunnels 1.3 million bottles of wine are stored. It’s a happy marriage; the surrounding fertile land is ideal for grape growing, and the tunnels provide the perfect microcosm for the production and storage of wine. The tunnels are the result of excavated limestone used to rebuild Moldova’s capital, Chișinău, (pron. Kishinow) after it was bombed in World War II.
We toured some of the private collections stored within the tunnels. There are collections belonging to Angela Merkel, John Kerry, Joe Biden and even the remnants of Hermann Göring’s collection. The label had been removed from Vladimir Putin’s collection. No little red train for Vlad. When he’d visit the tunnels he’d travel in a gold-plated buggy. After the tour we were ushered into that hallowed of rooms, the Tasting Hall, where wines were tantalizingly presented, culminating in the scintillating Lacrimi Dulce, sweet tears. Our guide joked that when Yuri Gagarin visited, he became lost in the caves for hours. It was easier for him to get into space than out of the wine cellars of Cricova.
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| Nastrovia! |
Moldova is Europe’s least visited country. Annually there are only 11,000 tourists. After neighboring Ukraine, it’s Europe’s poorest country. Recently 100,000 Ukrainian refugees settled here, 700,000 have passed through. The country’s 2.5 million population is a melting pot of Romanians, Russians, Ukrainians and Turks. The main language spoken is Romanian.
Another of Moldova’s best assets is Ecaterina, our tour guide. She is effervescent and a font of knowledge. She brings Moldova alive for Sarah from Manchester and myself. Not only Moldova, she also takes us on a day trip to the intriguing Transnistria.
 |
| Back in the USSR |
Transnistria? So, where on earth is Transnistria, you might well ask. Transnistria is a sliver of country between Moldova and Russia. It’s an unrecognized, break-away state with a population of half a million. Until 1991 it was part of Russia. There is a military presence, however given that the last conflict occurred in 1992, it’s relatively safe.
The feeling here is Russian; the signage is Cyrillic, the currency is the ruble, Transnistrian ruble. However, they have their own flag, their own president, their own parliament and their own licence plates. The only national identity missing is a postal service.
 |
| The Memorial of Glory |
At Tiraspol, the capital, we dined at ‘Back in the USSR’. It was a Soviet time warp. Waitresses wore lacey headpieces and aprons, the music was ABBA and Boney M, and the menu reflected the era. My chicken Kiev was just as I remembered it from my 1980s Russian visit. The cafe was filled with Lenin statues and paraphernalia from the 60s and 70s. Outside the entrance a 1960’s Volga and a Lada were parked.
The Lenin theme continued. He was sighted outside the colourfully decorated Tiraspol City Hall, and in front of the Parliament building. There were Lenins everywhere. How many Lenin statues are there are in the world I wondered? Many! There were also many war memorials. War has been an integral part of Russia. At the tomb of the unknown soldier, a small ceremony was in progress.
 |
| Bender Fortress |
The golden domes glistened on the Russian Orthodox Church. Inside the walls were richly painted with stories of saints, including the Romanovs, Russia’s last royal family. They were murdered in 1918 and have since been beatified. Nearby was the historic Bender Fortress. Built in the 15th century. If only those walls could talk. It was captured by Suleiman the Magnificent, attacked by the Cossacks and eventually came under Russian rule. At the kiosk we were fortified in a different way, scoffing glasses of ten-year old cognac. It was only 11am, but Cheers, Nastrovia! So very Russian. It was fun to brush up some basic Russian; dar, nyet, speciba, and the best of all, those magic words, Prodazha obuvi (shoe sale). As the day drew to a close, and our visas were about to expire, it was time to say Dasvidanya to Transnistria.
 |
| Teddy Bears' picnic |
Back in Chișinău I took a final walk around the city. The city is known as the White City due to its limestone buildings. Trolley buses run along the main streets. Magnolia trees and spring blossoms were full bloom. In Stephen the Great Park a man played the saxophone, children laughed and danced. Nearby the competing strains of Edith Piaf wafted from the Bonjour Cafe. A Teddy Bears’ picnic was in progress. I loved my four days in Moldova, but now it was au revoir to the Bonjour Cafe, and La Revedere to Moldova.
Ros Freeman travelled independently at her own expense, but would not go anywhere unless Kirsty at Flight Centre Eastgardens booked her flights. ,
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Disguised as a mild-mannered corporate employee, Ros lives a secret life as a world traveller and adventurer amassing a count of more than 150 UN-recognised countries. |
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