To get to “the country that doesn’t exist“, you first have to get to “the least visited country in Europe. Moldova.
Whilst there are direct flights from London to Chisinau, as I’m based in Scotland, we decided on a less direct route, flying Edinburgh to Bucharest. There was time for a visit to the Libearty bear sanctuary followed by a day wallowing in the Therme Spa before hopping aboard the overnight “Friendship Train” from Bucharest to Chisnau.
Bucharest Gara du Nord train station was distinctly unfriendly. I rarely feel unsafe when travelling but this was the pits. We loitered at the “bar” to kill time before boarding – a few dirty tables in the corner of the station with a beer. Hawking their wares first came prostitutes, then thieves trying to sell perfume, then drug dealers.
Politely declining all of the above, it was good to get onboard the train. We’d shelled out a few extra euros for a 2 berth cabin rather than risk 2 strangers joining our evening slumber. On the outward journey this did feel like an upgrade – opening windows and enough room to swing a proverbial cat.
The Good
The sockets worked to charge our phones.
The outward journey bunks were clean and pretty comfy and the window ensured a steady supply of cool night air.
At the Romanian/Moldovan border, the train gets jacked up and they replace all the wheels. The Moldovan railway is soviet gauge, a relic of the very intentional barrier between the USSR and Europe back in the day.
Although it took forever and was noisy and bumpy at 3am, I love these experiences for what they are, part of history and a wee antidote to global homogenisation. It did take bloody forever though! Between passport, customs and engineers it was certainly one of the longer border crossings I’ve been through!
The Bad
The toilets on the train flush straight onto the track below which meant our cool night air was sometimes ponging of shite when someone used the toilet. (They lock them when changing the wheels so time any “physiological” trips accordingly!)
No dining car! 😦
I’d read about the limited choice of food and drink on board, but on both legs of the journey (we travelled in May 2025) there was no dining car attached, no wee onboard shop, no hot water urn to make supernoodles, zilch, nada.
Dinner on the outward journey was cold chicken nuggets washed down with a couple of ciders and some jelly sweeties.
Our return cabin was definitely a downgrade. The window was sealed shut and the temperature on board was ten million degrees. And still no dining car! On the plus side we’d stocked up on copious amounts of cheapo white wine and enormous plastic bottles of beer.
The Ugly
Bed bugs!!!
Returning to the cabin after being chased around the toilet by an orange spider (eek!), I was less than chuffed to see a flat burgundy bug crawling over my recently vacated sheets. Bed bugs were confirmed a few hours later with my body covered in red lumps.
A taste of Moldova
Arriving in to Chisnau after 14 hour train, what better way to distract from bed bug bites than a trip to Cricova Wine Cellars?
Cricova has over 70 miles of underground tunnels with over 1 million bottles of wine maturing underground – basically an underground city of wine that has the look and feel of a James Bond villan’s lair. Moldova is the 6th largest wine producer in Europe, much of it state owned.
We hopped on a golf buggy and whizzed through the underground streets stopping at various winey locations along the way
Legend has it even Yuri Gagarin got so cozy here he got lost in the tunnels and spent a rather fuzzy overnight here, leaving a note (see pic below) thanking the staff for their hospitality!
Day Two: Old Orhei
On day two, we swapped wine for scenery and headed to Orheiul Vechi open air museum village and monastery. High on a hill was a lonely goatherd…well almost. Carved into limestone cliffs above the Răut River, there’s a 13th century Cave Monastery complete with a grumpy hermit monk who looks and smells like he’d been there since the caves were carved. In fairness to him, must be a bit gutting to choose a life of solitude which is shared with camera-waving tourists. Rumour has it that he was a soviet soldier in his previous life.
Day Three: Chișinău
Back in Chișinău, Moldova’s capital, we tagged along on a walking tour of the city.
Chișinău isn’t intrinsically beautiful but there’s something about it – tree-lined boulevards, brutalist architecture little churches and lots of green space. Also lots of traffic jams!
Chișinău’s Central Market—aka the old “New Bazaar.” Rebounding from total wartime destruction in 1941, a gentrified tourist trap it is not.
Today, it’s a kaleidoscope of stalls brimming with fresh produce, cheeses, handmade baskets, fur căciuli hats sweets, and anything you need or don’t really. I could have easily spent a whole day having a dauner* around here, people watching and grazing on local cheeses and pastries. I was particularly fond of the wee old ladies selling a few herbs or a couple of packs of tights out of buckets on the pavement.
Chișinău State Circus was just a short hop away, a relic of Soviet architectural ambition. Built in 1981, it claimed the title of the USSR’s grandest circus—boasting a 1,900-seat arena and retractable dome roof. Today, the building remains as beautiful brutalist urban decay.
Sticking with architecture, some other structures I liked were the post office building, the parliament and presidential palace. The hardware outside the military museum was worthy of a photo stop too.
I only got a plăcintă-sized taste of Moldova before it was time to head on to Transnistria and then all too soon the bed-buggy ride back to Bucharest on the friendship train.
Moldova may not be on everyone’s radar, but maybe that’s the point? It’s unspoiled, uncomplicated, and inexpensive.
*Scots language: To stroll, to saunter, to walk aimlessly, idly, or uncertainly, to wander
The Exploring Cat. Weird museums, unfrequented, underwhelming places, the road less travelled. 