Communicating was not easy with the man that helped me change my tire and offered me a place in the garden of this house since none us spoke the same language but some information could be exchanged such as the age the good man, 41
He tried asking other things but I could not figure out what he was trying to ask. Very annoying but yeah, not much to do about it except to learn another language.
I could finally see properly where I had stayed overnight.
Some of the woodwork on the side of the house
The settlement where I had changed my tire the night before.
House that the man who helped me was working on.
The tire had lost a bit of pressure overnight so it seemed so I inflated it a bit more before taking off again.
The next town, Focsani would be about 50 km away. 20km would still be on gravel. Alright then, lets see how my tire would hold. I went very slow on the gravel, don’t think I made it past 25km/h but it worked fine. It might have been a bit on the flat side but I wasn’t exactly hanging horizontally in corners at my cruising speed.
At one point I had to cross a river. It did look fairly deep but I could see no alternative way to cross so I made some speed and went for it. Well, that was my morning shower for the day as I was completely wet from the water splash I created when entering the water. A very cold one at that. It was deeper than I had guesse. But now I had reached the paved roads again and it was a comfortable drying session. At the first tire repair shop I went in to have my inner tube fixed. It took 4 patches to get all the holes covered. That nail had done a lot of damage. Nothing I could have done with my little patch kit I had in my repair supplies. It cost about 10 euro to get it fixed. I then asked if I could install it again since he had a tire changing machine. No problem except that he had no easy way to lift the bike. We found a solution using a jack and some wooden logs to support the swingarm. We managed to get the job done and my original inner tube was back in place, like brand new.
It was now time to head for the moldovan border. The mountains where definitely behind me and it were plains all the way until the border.
I did pass another Decebal statue.
The flatness of the surroundings
The romanian officer at the border took his time and asked if I allowed customs to search my bags. “Of course, be my guest”. He then walked to the customs office but they were clearly not keen to do so, so I could go.
Next Moldova. I was helped by a lady who wanted proof of insurance. I did nkt have it and I asked if I could buy it at the spot. She laughed at me. She also told me I look better without a beard. She talked to some of here collegues and then I could do the following. First go to customs, then pay some taxes, and then get a green card (insurance paper) about 5 km in the country, while they kept my passport as bond. Alright then.
So I had to drive 5 km without insurance to this little shack on the side of the road. It had a single computer, a little desk with a chair and a bed. I asked for a green card and the man wanted to see my passport, of course that was at the border office. I showed him my Belgian id card and told him to use the information that was on there. Luckily the computer program he was using accepted the id number and after what seemed to take ages and paying the healthy sum of 2 euros I had now insurance for two weeks of Moldova explorations. However I was intending to give Moldova the tourist treatment many people give to Belgium and that is…passing through. So, what can I say about Moldova after having spent an hour and a half there. Its roads are bad. The towns I passed didn’t scream the words “stay and visit me”. But the young guy who helped me at the petrol station was friendly and could speak some english.
Some of my Moldovan highlights…
A rest stop.
Some monuments highlighting aviation supremacy.
A busstop along the road
After this brief excursion through Moldova, I had now arrived at a tiny border crossing. The Moldovans took their time but after a while I could continue to their Ukranian neighbours.
There I was helped by a fairly attractive border lady who knew a fair amount of english and started asking questions. Of course the most common one where they ask why I am traveling alone. When telling that it is rather difficult to find someone who can join she suggested I tried the internet. Right, saddle me up with a complete stranger. Not saying it could not work but chances are slim. I should have asked her if she would join me next time. She was also interested to know which drugs I had with me, so I had to open my bag and show her my medicine cabinet. There was a dog nearby but I think it was just a stray dog instead of a highly trained illegal substance sniffer. Her collegues were joking around a bit and not long after I could pack my things and continue.
The landscape was simply put…plain(s)
The drivers I saw coming at me seemed to be drunk cause they swerved from one side of the road to the other. It wasn’t long till I realised that everybody was trying to avoid potholes and not small ones. I’m sure that if you stopped at a few of them and looked down, that you would see lions and crocodiles, ready to tear you and your vehicle apart should you manage to tumble in.
It is pretty full on driving these roads. On a few occasions my suspension had to do overtime and like we all know, overtime sucks.
The region I passed through was also sparsely populated. I hadn’t seen an ATM so I had no money on me in case I wanted to stay somewhere that didn’t accept cards which was very likely in this area.
I was hoping to reach Odesa, my first stop in Ukraine. I have a friend there who I wanted to see again after meeting here three years ago in Vancouver. She was planning to leave on holidays on sunday so I wanted to hurry (it was now thursday) so I could catch up with her again.
After a while and more pothole evasive manouvres I managed to see the black sea for the first time.
Black sea on the right of the picture
The smell was anything but pleasant, but the flies seemed to enjoy it very much.
The first bigger place I passed was some kind of holiday destination as everybody was in their swimgear with towels and inflatable water toys. Not exactly the place to find cheap accomodation in case I didn’t continue to Odesa.
I was keeping an eye out for an ATM but could not seem to spot one. It was now starting to get dark. Luckily it was now only a short ride to Odesa. The accomodation options seemed plentiful although they were all big hotels and they looked pricey. I decided to try one that looked a bit cheaper but when I asked for the price it was similar to the price of a room in Belgium. The hotel staff suggested to try one of their partner hotels. I tried locating it but could not find it. Somehow I reached the railway station area, and that usually means cheap but not always the best accomodation options. I saw a big sign advertising a room for around 15 euro and went to have a look. The room was tiny but clean enough for my standards and since it was now half past 10 I decided to end my search.
Goodbye working holiday visas, Europe here I come 