Ten points if you know where Moldova is. No, make that 100. In fact, I don't think any amount of "points" would be a sufficient prize for knowing the whereabouts of this small and semi-forgotten state. Without wanting to be demeaning, Moldova is perhaps the runt of the former Soviet-state litter. Squeezed between heavy-weight elder-brother Ukraine and aspiring middle-child Romania, Moldova is the smaller, weaker sibling, struggling to establish it's unique significance in the landscape of Eastern Europe. Moldova is not a member of the European Union. The reality of this becomes immediately apparent on crossing from Romania (where our flight arrived) into Moldova, where road conditions immediately deteriorate, and there is a sense that we've lost some of the structure that gives Europe its "common-ness".
Why travel to this most obscure of Eastern European countries? Our purpose is in one part clear, and on the other quite loose. The Australian pastors of our church in England, left their homeland and moved across the other side of the world to start a new local church. Their driving motivation is a vision to fund and build charity organisations in Moldova that would support, encourage and empower it's vulnerable people, of which there are many. This is our long-term purpose, which is clear. The short-term purpose of this current trip is to start to figure out the "how" to this giant goal. Practically, this meant simply to network, build relationships, and start to understand the culture, the people and their challenges. This task was made easy by our hosts from a local church in Balti, (pronounced "Belts") our destination and Moldova's 2nd largest city (though a distant 2nd in size to the capital, Chisinau). These hosts were warm, open and welcoming, and lavished us all week with the most amazing Moldovan cuisine!
Moldova is a poor country by any measure. GPD per capita is $5,000 in round figures (adjusted for PPP) - you can compare that to $41,000 for the UK. This gap (or should we say, gulf) though is not immediately obvious. Herein begin some of the paradoxes (and I must say I love a good paradox - they fuel my desire to get "under the skin" of the culture).
If you were to judge the Moldovans by their appearance, you might say they were more prosperous that the English! For both men and women, their every day clothing would fit with what we'd wear for a night out, and a special one at that! Smart jackets and pants for men; classy dresses, hand-bags, and boots for the women. Whether from a healthy pride or their outlet of materialism (one of the few available) it's not so obvious, but it is clearly an important part of their culture. My guess is a mix of both, but I will give my backing to more of the former, as I observe a healthy pride reflected also in the lack of littering. It's the same paradoxical theme continuing, where despite the visibly obvious "infrastructure poverty", I feel more endowed to the urban environment here than in many parts of Britain, where litter is rife. Balti has plenty of green spaces, all of these are well kept. With the many trees showing off their rich Autumn colours, I feel no shame in calling the surroundings beautiful.
My endowment is no doubt bolstered by walking (and running!) among the crumbling legacy of Moldova's Soviet era: dilapidated-looking apartment blocks where a large portion of Baltians (?) live, abandoned factories that once hummed with communist workers, faded and rusting playgrounds that seem to feature in Soviet urban landscapes, and a government building that still has a sculpture of prominent communist figures (Lenin, Marx and Stalin?) as it's frontage (this is apparently "about to be removed"). While most Moldovans would much rather see these buildings bulldozed for modern, sparkling replacements, I selfishly relish the opportunity to walk among this modern history that is kept alive through these remaining structures, all be them in their state of disrepair.
Balti though is not all crumbling cold-war concrete. There are plenty of shoots of new life to admire. The stand-out success story in Balti is the Draexlmaier factory. The German automotive component giant invested in a brand-new factory 8 years ago that manufactures automotive wiring harnesses. It is a shining example of "compassionate capitalism". Despite the norm in Moldova being very long working hours (12 hour working days is common) and low wages (with unreliable pay-days), the company has chosen to provide abnormal employment conditions that are much closer to European standards. Wages are well above average for the level of work, hours are appropriately restricted and lunch is provided, as are free buses to transport workers to and from Balti's outlying villages. Even with the "cost" of these much more humane conditions, the factory is very profitable to Draexlmaier, due to the low relative value of the Moldovan currency (the Lei, for anyone interested). The flow-on effect in the town from its hundreds of employees is significant. Modern businesses have emerged selling every kind of tech available in our own high-street shops, as have "mega-mart" stores and funky restaurants serving cuisine that would make Jamie Oliver's mouth water (except without eye-watering prices). Our own hotel in which we stayed our first 3 nights was brand-new in June.
These businesses are developing, but their growth is severely inhibited by a soil contaminated by corruption. Later in the week our hosts explain frustratedly how it affects almost every sphere of Moldovan life. To receive almost any form of council or government service, including medical services, a bribe is expected. Civil servants are experts at procrastinating with elaborate excuses when one is not forthcoming, and there is no immediate hope from current political leaders. Moldovan politics is a "you either laugh or you cry" affair. The current president is "imprisoned" under house-arrest in his mansion for some scandal or another; the new mayor of Balti has been in prison for 3 days on a trumped up charge, due to being part of the ring that whistle-blew on the President...
For the majority of Moldovans, who have very limited discretionary income, paying a bribe for something required may mean going without heating for a month (or longer), reducing food consumption to only the most basic staples, or worse, taking on a debt which they struggle repay. It makes saving for investments, improvements or new enterprises extremely difficult. The saddening result of this means the many Moldovans who are well educated and know their potential, save what little they can to emigrate themselves and their skills to an alternative European country where they can flourish.
Our challenge then is starting to become more clear. It's not as much to rescue people from a physical danger (though this may still be part of the charity work), but to rescue Moldovan minds from their hope-less mentality. The challenges of development in this country are real, but I believe it is worth persuading and empowering them to rise above these and create a brighter future for this beautiful country.
On the day we arrived, a free concert was happening in the town square, promoting exercise and healthy eating
They got some locals up dancing!
Fresh, local speciality bread from a market stall
Typical apartment block, probably of lower-income families - the Russian motor is the only one I spotted in the block
A lot of Balti's gas pipes are above ground
Our host church saved it's 18-year celebration for our arrival
This is the feast we were honoured with
We felt at least as much humbled as honoured
Balti restaurant menu - 30 Lei is approx. 1 GBP
Can you name these 3 communist figures?
Getting sized up for a belt from "Belts"
We spent a morning in a local school teaching an English lesson, and getting to know the kids
They spontaneously invited us to a graduation ceremony for the students moving from Year 4 to 5 (approx age 10-11)
An early king of Moldova, who first brought Christianity to the nation
Moldova, like Britain, could do with a few less of these
Children's playgrounds feature a lot in both urban and suburban landscapes
Balti once had a large population of Jews, some of whom are remembered in this war memorial. The population almost emigrated almost entirely en-mass in the 1990's "aliyah"
Jean helping to make this delicious Moldovan desert, Gagutsa
One of a number of half-finished houses around Balti - this one has been abandoned for 5 years
This is in fact one of the better-off suburbs of Balti, but still without any street paving
Last hurrah goes to this symbol of Moldova's former manufacturing might
This is the distilled story our trip driving from the UK to Iran, written in more traditional (chronological) form, and with the emphasis on our driving and 4WDing experiences for our Land Rover mates in England. If you're viewing this on email and would like to see the videos as well as photos, view the post in your browser by following this link: http://elveysbigadventure.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/escapades-in-east-part-2-albania.html
The day dawned bright and clear, which was a distinct contrast to the previous day's steady, miserable rain (one of the very few days it rained on the entire trip). It was also Mrs E's birthday. We'd woken up in our 3-star hotel, and headed down to our Albanian breakfast, which was sort-of close to an English, substituting the bacon for grilled capsicums, and the mushrooms for tomatoes. It was important we had a good start to the day, as we were going to need that energy later on.
I'd already had an inkling that Albania was going to be a great destination for 4WD adventures, and so we headed off for our first day of 4WDing in this poor, curious and much-forgotten land. As we headed out of the city and into the countryside, we discovered that the roading infrastructure was split between pot-holed, crumbling sealed roads, and rough, rutted dirt roads. We were again following a 4WD enthusiast's trail, which saw us turning off onto the most minor of rural roads, which meant the least formed! Very quickly we had the diff-lock engaged, as the preceding couple of days of rain had made the clay-based track particularly treacherous.
Early on in the track
This and the video below are still the "easy" bits!
It was all pretty fun while the track was fairly level, but before long we came to our first significant hill on the track. It wasn't THAT steep, but with the wet, heavy clay, we did a fair bit of slipping and sliding as we clambered up towards the top, delicately feathering the pedals to scratch any available grip. As we crested the top, I was buzzing - Mrs E was smiling nervously. This was what we brought the Land Rover for! My euphoria was short-lived though, as we came around a corner to find another hill, steeper than the first. Given the struggle on the first hill, I really wasn't sure that we'd be able to summit this one. I put foot down to give it a go, but reached only half-way before grip ran out. We carefully reversed down, and decided that Mrs E should hop out for the next attempt, to slightly lighten the load (and given that one side of the track was a steep bank, ensure one of us was kept safe/secure). The second attempt made more progress, but still was unsuccessful. For the third, I reversed to get the maximum amount of momentum, and made an all-guns-blazing attempt to beat the clay. Half-way up I thought it was another failed attempt, but somehow between the sideways jiggling I managed to keep the tyres biting, the Disco moving, and a few LONG seconds later, eased my way over the crest - just! A big shout of relief, and Mrs E joined me to carry on, albeit slightly paler in the face.
The challenges weren't over for the day though, and on the next (slightly smaller) hill, after the first attempt failed, we slid into the ditch on the reverse back down. There was no way we were driving out of our position, so it was out with the recovery gear, and the hi-lift jack was put to use. After jacking it up and getting some stones under the "ditched" wheel, we were able to drive out and on up the hill successfully.
Another stop to put some stones in a washed out ditch to cross, then we arrived at a hamlet of a few houses. By this stage we were pretty stuffed, so stopped to have a bit to eat. Before long, a curious girl came out to meet us. Amazingly for how remote we were, she could speak a few words of English, but I do mean literally just a few! The following hour was an amazing encounter of the local, rural Albanian people. You can read more about this encounter in a dedicated blog post, here: http://elveysbigadventure.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/generosity-universal-gift.html
We finished off the trail, which thankfully became a bit easier and more relaxing/enjoyable. In the village at the end of the road, we stopped to wash all the mud off the Disco. The place was a garage as well, and a few days earlier we'd lost the grill from the snorkel, so I asked if the mechanic had anything to make a new one. Not only did he have some perfect scrap metal, he proceeded to carefully cut out a piece for the snorkel, paint it, and screw it securely in place. To boot, he didn't want to take any payment, but his care and quality of work was such that I insisted on giving him a generous payment for the work.
Albania continued to surprise and excite us, especially with the dramatic, mountainous scenery, which was absolutely first-rate. A couple of days later we decided to take a track up into the mountains. We climbed a significant height, but this track was very different to the first outing, being rock based and subsequently pretty easy going (albeit steep in parts). We still had our share of excitement though, as we took a detour off to follow an old section of the road, rather than the newly formed part. There was a clear reason the old section had been decommissioned, with a giant erosion ditch running in the middle of the track, meaning we had to carefully zig-zag our way up the tricky track. That night we camped high up in the mountains, the only night we wild-camped in Albania, but one of the best of the trip. The next morning we headed into a mountain village where we got a taste and tour of village life from the one English-speaking resident of the village. As we headed for the border with Greece (back on tarmac), we continued to enjoy the stunning scenery in it's many shades of Autumnal orange.
Landy!
The contrasts of Albania!
The road up into the mountains
The "old" road on the mountain track
Video of the same track
Albania in Autumn glory
Proper wild camping
I'm tempted to start a rival company
Visiting the village school
My kinda lunch - meat, bread and cheese!
Albania really surprises
We arrived in Albania knowing absolutely nothing about the country or it's people, and we left with a desire to return again, hungry for more of it's great people, amazing scenery, and challenging roads. And while the poverty certainly can't be hidden, there is enough development to enjoy a luxury holiday, if that is your preference, at bargain basement prices.
This is the distilled story our trip driving from the UK to Iran, written in more traditional (chronological) form, and with the emphasis on our driving and 4WDing experiences for our Land Rover mates in England. If you're viewing this on email and would like to see the videos as well as photos, view the post in your browser by following this link: http://elveysbigadventure.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/escapades-in-east-part-1.html And apologies about the formatting - I accidentally clicked the "HTML" button in the editor, which has left this post permanently disfigured :-(
Escapades in the East - Part 1 of 3
It started when I was 19 (ten years ago!). Internet blogs were a pretty novel thing back then, and I felt like I’d discovered the lost ark when I stumbled across the blog of an American hippie-bachelor who’d sold everything to embark on a journey from the very East coast of Russia (did you know this is right next to Japan?!) to the West. His goal was to complete the entire journey by bike (BMW Adventure bike), not “cheating” using trains through any stretches, as other travellers did. Engrossed in his weekly posts of euphoric highlights, soul-crippling low-lights, tales of stranger’s goodness, and tales of the odd rascal, the seed was sown - I couldn’t die happy until I’d completed something similar.
Fast forward ten years, and the seed was still there, but covered by usual busyness of life, being married, working etc. We had been living in England for a year or so, and planning on returning to NZ to live. Still without kids, but maybe not for much longer, the wife, Mrs E, and I realised that if we were going to do an adventure like this, it had to be soon. While we were still debating whether this trip was possible, wise and financially viable, I discovered an eBay auction for complete set of off-road equipment for a Land Rover Discovery, finishing in under 30 minutes! “Honey..”, I called down the stairs meekly, giving away what type of request was coming. A few minutes, and £800 odd pounds later, we owned a complete set of off-road protection and recovery equipment for our Discovery. The decision of this purchase locked it in for us - we were going to head off on an adventure!
Now that we decided we were going to go, we had to decide where! Africa is a common adventure destination, but didn’t particularly interest me or Mrs E. One country that I had long been interested in though, was Iran. I felt that there was a huge chunk of Iran missing in the news reports of Western sanctions, nuclear deals, and anti-Jewish rants, that I wanted to discover. So to Iran it was! The next few months were spent planning logistics, buying the camping and living equipment we needed, and fitting out the Disco as a “semi-camper”. I wanted to take a Land Rover, not because we thought we needed a 4WD to make the trip, but because I wanted to go off the main routes, and made a pact to do some 4WDing in each country we travelled through. It was certainly a compromise though (compared to a traditional camper) - what we gained in 4WD ability we lost in living space and convenience (especially not having an internal toilet, if you ask Mrs E).
The route was determined: France, Italy, ferry to Albania, Greece, Turkey, Iran, then ferry across the Persian gulf to finish in Dubai. From Dubai we had planned to fly home to NZ. What we were going to do with the Disco was the most stressful point of my planning. There were no good options - to sell it meant importing it - not easy to do in Dubai where RHD cars can’t be registered for the road. To use an agent to help import it would mean money, and then we didn’t expect to get much for what would then be a beat up old wagon that couldn’t be driven on road. To send it back to England in a container was an option, but it would cost more than what the Disco was worth! In the end, it was decided for us, as you’ll find out later…
We decided to have a “soft-launch” for the trip and start in Scotland, so having finished up our jobs and cleared up our house, we set off for a month exploring the Caledonian part of Britannia. It was well worth having the test-launch, as our eBay purchased tarpaulin for the roof rack (which we were assured was “extra high quality”) literally fell apart on the first day! In Falkirk we found a superb canvas-maker who custom made a properly heavy-duty PVC tarpaulin that took the rest of the trip in it’s stride! The rest of the brilliant trip around Scotland went without a hitch (apart from the cold, despite being August!), and in early September we crossed the channel for France.
Cooking up a storm in Scotland
Our first shock of France was discovering that, even in the “border” town of Calais, no one can speak English, not even doctors! Our Lonely Planet language book got us through - just! We travelled to Paris, then down to Lyon, then further south to spend a few days exploring Provence.
We discovered quickly that foreign cities, driving on the right, and big 4WDs don’t mix too easily. After a long day driving, we arrived in central Lyon and were trying to find our accommodation for the night, while navigating the network of busy, often one-way streets. We made a turn, only to discover that we were on a one-way street, going the wrong way, and with a bus coming towards us! A quick aversion down another side street avoided a collision, but we decided that we might cut out a few of the other cities that we had on our itinerary - it just didn’t fit for this type of trip.
Heading further South and out into the countryside, we started on our first French “greenlane”. At the start of the trail we found a great place to wild camp for the night, getting ready for some more adventurous driving the next day. If I could have planned it I would have chosen an easy trail for our first, helping to ease Mrs E and I into it, but you can’t accurately tell the difficulty from the trail-sharing website I was using for the trails. Tight, technical, muddy in parts, and having to follow the map very carefully, the first trail turned out to be a real corker! After a couple of hours we were ready for a cup of tea - thank goodness for having a cooker and kettle ready in the back! I have heard people say there are no greenlanes or good 4WDing in France, but it certainly isn’t true. The following 4WD trail we did in Provence was easier, and on more formed tracks that went through areas of bush, often quite rocky underneath. Provence was certainly really nice, and we had a great time exploring the French villages and local roads.
Start of the first trail - this was the easy part!
(Video of the second, easier trail)
We headed right down to the French Riviera, and drove along the coast to Nice, and then on through Monaco and Monte Carlo, which are both home to utter lunatic bikers. You have to picture that the roads are winding and busy, with cliffs rising on one side and dropping off on the other. Despite this, bikes of all shapes and sizes are constantly flying past, even on both sides, and often into the face of oncoming traffic! The locals probably thought we were the looneys though, driving amongst the Porches, Lambos and Ferraris with our brute and beat-up old Land Rover! To reinforce their view, we stopped at Monte Carlo’s one public beach, ran down in bare feet and amongst the footballer’s wives sun bathing on the sand, got changed underneath our towels and launched into the “cold” water (about 19 degrees probably - which is as warm as the sea in NZ summer)! After our antics in the Riviera, we started to head due North towards Italy. Instead of taking the tunnel through the Alps, we decided to drive over the top! I had read from a fellow traveller there were good spots to wild camp up there, so up we drove on very steep, tight and twisting gravel tracks looking for a camping spot through the fog. Having camped at a great, sheltered spot, we woke the next day to most incredible views you could imagine. We have photos, but it doesn’t do justice to the feeling of standing up there and looking out over the mass of mountain tops. As we carried on over the mountains, we found old abandoned bunkers used in the war, and the abandoned remains of a commune that used to live up there. It was a very cool day.
Driving up towards the Alps summit
This is what greeted us the next morning!
Exploring an abandoned building
The road down to Italy
(Video is descending the alps)
After descending into Italy, we travelled across the Northern industrial belt to visit Venice. This part of Italy is pretty boring, scenery-wise. We did do one 4WD trail on the way - nice and easy, but cut short after we discovered a bridge had been washed out and obviously never replaced. It wasn’t until we got further south that we got into some of the really good stuff. And how good it was! In most countries, driving on unformed tracks is allowed by exception. In other words, it’s illegal unless specifically stated (or known, ie greenlanes) as a right of way. In Italy, it seemed to us it’s the other way around - a track is a right of way unless specifically stated as private. There is a whole host of tracks criss-crossing the country, making for a 4WDers playground! In Tuscany, we spent a whole day on 4WD tracks, driving through fields, bush, vineyards and remote villages - it was fabulous. In the mountainous parts we encountered yet more stunning views. On one of our final nights in Italy, we stayed with a couchsurfing host who lived in the hills and ran an organic beef and pork farm. She rode with us up into the hills to look for some mushrooms for the day’s dinner. This was a special day, as with her we had the permission to leave the track, and literally go cross-country over the hills. We criss-crossed our way up a steep hill, and then after collecting some mushrooms, drove STRAIGHT down (slowly of course) - such fun!
(Video of climbing the track above - it's much steeper than it looks!)
(Video of another trail in Tuscany)
We drove to the port town of Bari, where we caught an overnight ferry to Albania. After working out the firm instructions to Mrs E to “take up her dress” (take our overnight clothing and board the ferry), I loaded the Disco on the boat, and we got settled in for the journey across the Adriatic sea.
Albania was an interesting country on our itinerary, because we really knew nothing about it before coming - everything was going to be a new and learning experience. We arrived in the port city of Durres to find a strange concoction of crumbling infrastructure mixed with brand-new shops and petrol stations. Albania is clearly a very poor country though, even more evident as drove out of the city and into the rural areas. One upside as a tourist though is that everything is super-cheap! How about a 3-star hotel for €25 per night, or 4 stars for €40? Or a restaurant meal of generous Italian pasta for two, plus beer and hot chocolate, for a total of €7?
First glimpse of colourful Durres
Albanian Hot Chocoloate!
On day two of Albania, I had an itinerary of some 4WD trails planned for the day. It also happened to be Mrs E’s birthday - what better birthday present to give your wife than a day 4WDing?? ;-) On this day though, we both got a bit more than we bargained for…
