From the wilds of Western Ukraine to the wild 1970s Soviet Union: Yaremche v Tiraspol
A study in contrasts: urban v rural
Or, city v nature, Part 1
And Part 6 (of 10) of my August 2020 Challenge.
August 2020, the Carpathians:
It was the ‘wild’ I was looking for, and it was the ‘wild’ we got as we ventured west to the Carpathians, that magical land where ‘time stands still’ to quote myself from a post from May 2013 and though the place we stayed is fairly touristy by Ukrainian standards – Yaremche – it still had a few areas off the beaten path or track that offered thrills and adventures and it actually was a bit unintended this adventure because really what we wanted was a standard trail and my map seemed a bit dated and unreliable but we thought the trails on there could be found but we weren’t able to so we just traipsed our way up through and over a massive hill not quite a mountain but a steep oh-so-steep hill and by the end of this trip – as you shall see but I won’t actually share a photo – my legs were scraped, bleeding, scratched, bitten bitten bitten – the idea of getting out into the wild is always so romantic and charming until you remember the damn mosquitoes and bugs constantly bugging you…and…
‘…lines of spider’s silk criss-crossed the air in their scores, and light ran like drops of bright liquid down them when we moved…groups of black flies bobbed and weaved, each dancing around a set point, like vibrating atoms held in a matrix…’ (The Wild Places, Robert Macfarlane)
…not really flies but wretched mosquitoes and various other creepy biting insects…
Transdniestria, June 2010, written 2020:
Around ten years ago I spent an unforgettable and dangerous 24 hours in Tiraspol, capital of the breakaway Moldovan republic of Transdniestria and it truly was an epic time but I was unable to post any photos of that trip and I had intended to much later once my trip was done but never got round to it and so I figured it’s never too late so I might as well do it now and then urge my dear and loyal readers not to spend too much time reading my overly philosophical and negative pessimistic screeds that I put out these days because I have no exciting real stories to tell but this one from 10 years ago is truly truly truly one of my favourite ever posts and I can still vividly recall writing it and how much fun I had writing it and even how quickly I wrote it and it brings so many memories flooding back into mind and so please my dear readers, click on the link below after you look at a few pictures from that whirlwind 24 hours in Tiraspol and then enjoy my long, epic tale of police border guard brutality, the beauty of Moldovan/Transdniestrian women, the friends I met, the fun I had, my wry and astute observations of the Soviet Union in the 1970s…
June 2010, written June 2010, Transdniestria:
‘Hours later, as I staggered into the glaring sunshine after a few hours of pummelings and lashings, fragments of tooth stuck in my throat, blood all over my clothes, my passport and money gone, and my glasses nowhere to be found, I wondered as I wandered where it all went wrong. The first couple of toasts – to eternal friendship, happiness, the beauty of Moldovan women – went down a treat. But at some point, probably at around the same time that I realised the bus had probably got tired of waiting for me and had left with my luggage onboard, it all went a bit hazy.’
August 2020, the Carpathians:
Whose idea was this to just start walking up a steep as hell hill where there was no path or markings was it mine or my wife’s it was actually my wife’s but I’m not blaming her I went along willingly at first but then later I begged to turn around and was scared shitless and really started having thoughts that our daughter was going to be turned into an orphan because we were going to be stranded in the middle of this forest and no one would be able to find us and what a great day it was to wear shorts and not bring a warm jumper or jacket unlike other days where I brought something warm to wear but then never needed to wear it great thinking now when we were going to be stuck overnight in the forest and even in summer it would get a bit chilly but it wasn’t being stranded overnight and getting hypothermia that I was scared of but actually falling and tumbling down the hill on the way down when there was no path at all and only a nasty dry river bed full of boulders and stones and sludge and…
‘At times the forest was so thick that any sense of direction came only from the sense of slope. Then a vista would open, framed by branches, to show ground far above or glinting water far below. Often, the only noise I could hear was the creak of boughs rubbing against each other in the wind, like pipes heating up in a house…’ (The Wild Places)
June 2010, written June 2010, Transdniestria:
‘It started with a sharp, dull blow to the back of my head as I stood up too quickly. Only I hadn’t actually stood up. I felt shards of glass in my hair, blood trickling down my nose and neck. It all went bright white for a brief moment, only for the bulb to flicker out and go black. My forehead was the next to receive the blow, though it was involuntarily self-inflicted. Later, as I lay there and saw them through goggly eyes rifling through my backpack and money, it wasn’t only my suppurating wealth that I was worried about, but the blood and guts oozing out of my prostrate body lying in a pool of its own mess.’
August 2020, the Carpathians:
‘Image: A Thicket of Shrubs. In the forest, one shrub latches on to another, entangling its neighbor with its thorns, the thicket slowly extending its impenetrable domain. Only what keeps its distance and stands apart can grow and rise above the thicket.’
(The 48 Laws of Power, Robert Greene)
It was an impenetrable domain we were in and impenetrable domain we were not going to make it out of. We were entangled, stuck, trapped forever, thorns everywhere, there was to be no rising above any thicket for us - for us it was to be a long time in this thicket.
‘…moving through its dozens of covert worlds: its dense and almost lightless thickets, its corridors and passageways, its sudden glades and clearings.’ (The Wild Places)
Transdniestria, June 2010, written 2020:
Image: Transported to the Soviet Union, 1970s. Here it looks as if time well and truly has stood still. Do they know the Cold War is long over in this part of the world? They’re mired in one of these so-called ‘frozen conflicts’ endemic in this region of the world (sadly) and I wonder if they’ve noticed. Their own currency even. Dilapidated buildings. Cars no longer manufactured. For a foreigner like me, one who grew up in Cold War [Western] Europe, this is enthralling. Are the people here happy? The ones I met were.
June 2010, written June 2010, Transdniestria:
‘And what a motley cast of characters I encountered. Tiraspol, the capital of the region, has little to offer in the way of ‘sights’ – architecturally, that is. Though the women in Chişinău were beautiful, in Tiraspol they were out-of-this-world. And foreigners being in short supply, I had plenty of attention, though no doubt people must have felt sorry for poor old me, with a few chipped teeth, a blackened eye, lacerated face, broken nose, keeled over like a crippled tortoise – people probably took me for a wizened old professor, here to research the ways of the natives.’
August 2020, the Carpathians:
‘From thorn thickets, there was the scuttle of unseen creatures. Any noise we made was thudded into the banks, and was lost.’ (The Wild Places)
What hope had we when these unseen creatures turned out to be bears and boars none really now we were really in trouble and the old adage that if a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one around does it make a sound really rang true now – ha ha if that’s a bad pun and if not, ignore it – and we were really in trouble if no one would be able to hear us out in the middle of nowhere but we had started to hit the point of no return so that meant no going back it was all or nothing and on we proceeded just try to stay nice and still and quiet so the bears and boars don’t get us but they were grunting and snorting and could smell the fear and we really didn’t expect to make it out alive or in one piece and things were getting very very dicey here…
‘Authority: Regard it as more courageous not to become involved in an engagement than to win in battle, and where there is already one interfering fool, take care that there shall not be two.’ (Baltasar Gracián, 1601-1658, from The 48 Laws of Power)
An explanation or clarification, whether necessary or not
In May and June 2010, I travelled through Romania, Moldova, Transdniestria, Ukraine and Poland.
It was a splendid trip. I wrote a lot about those experiences, in my previous blog, The Layman’s Guide to International Relations.
Some of the posts were good, some so-so, some downright terrible. It was during the World Cup and I was writing a lot of football-related crap that was rushed and overly detailed. Ignore all that.
The post from June 2010, detailing my trip to the breakaway republic of Transdniestria really is a doozy. Not only is it one of my all-time favourites, but it was also one of the fastest I ever wrote, putting little thought into it and with barely time to edit it. I was on the road, in dodgy internet cafés in Moldova and Ukraine (Odesa). Maybe there’s a valuable lesson to be learned here.
I never got round to posting the photos there. So they’re here.
Here’s the link, for the 3rd time. Go on, read it – it’s better than the usual crap I write these days.
Read more
For a great article introducing you to Transdniestria:
Most people haven’t even heard of Transnistria, the breakaway state of Moldova that hugs its border with Ukraine. And that’s partly what makes it so fascinating to visit.
(BBC)
Comments
Post a Comment