October 2024

We have another overnight flight from Turkmenistan to Istanbul, Turkey. A short layover in Istanbul, and then another flight to Chisinau, Moldova. We land around 10 am, find a taxi to drive us 45 minutes outside of the city to a winery where we have reservations for lunch.

It feels like we are back to civilization, and while it’s definitely not home, there’s a sense of freedom that feels normal. We haven’t slept in an actual bed in three nights, and the exhaustion is overpowering. But…we are in Moldova, and we are not going to miss out on any of the experiences. We order some wine and dumplings, which are very traditional in Moldova, for lunch. We are in a small village, surrounded by fields, and the authenticity of Moldova is seeping through. The restaurant has a feel very different than I expected. The table cloths are colorful, clearly a symbol of their culture. The music is local, and there are cats roaming around. The ambiance is relaxed yet formal.

The kindness from the people we encounter at the airport, in the village, everywhere is powerful, and yet, I feel a sadness…a struggle filled with heaviness…from the restaurant staff and everyone we meet. I know that next door, just an hour drive from where we dine, Ukraine is fighting a war. I desperately want to understand what it must feel like for the Moldovans, to be so close to tragedy, their own country at risk, and I also feel a conflicting feeling of gratitude that I don’t have to understand those emotions. It feels selfish and I hate myself for that, wanting to take it all away and give them comfort, something I am unable to do.

Moldova is a small country, with a population of no more than 2.5 million people. It’s one of the least visited countries in Europe, and I appreciate that it’s not crowded, it’s culture still prominent. After lunch, we get back in the same taxi, who we had arranged to pick us up and drive us to the next winery.

Another 30 minutes or so and we arrived at Castel Mimi. We’re halfway across the country now, having driven just a little over an hour in total. Here, there is a castle, a hotel, and a winery. It feels so elaborate, so comforting. The staff treats us like royalty. There’s wine and chocolates in our room. The beds are covered in plush white sheets and comforters, so different than the cots in the yurt we last slept on.

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We explore the grounds in the afternoon, checking out the pool before our tour of the winery and castle. We have a wine tasting with our traditional dinner. We’re served meat and dumplings and sarmale (rice and meat wrapped in vine leaves) and mamaliga (corn flour, water, and salt – similar to polenta). We have ice cream for dessert, and by 8 pm, we are sound asleep in bed, where we stay for the next 12 ours, exhausted from Turkmenistan.

The next morning, we have breakfast and find another taxi to take us back to Chisinau. Once rested, we’re able to spend the day exploring the city, wandering the streets and stopping at cafes and bars. We people watch. We walk. We roam freely. We discuss whatever is on our minds. And we reflect on the world – Turkmenistan, Moldova, and so many other places just like ours and so different.

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