Waterworld

Our plane had just been pushed from the gate, on time, when the captain came on the speakers. "Ladies and gentlement, we are sorry to inform you that the european air traffic control has not given us a spot to fly south until 45 minutes from now, so we have to wait. We apologize."
Nice start on the holiday. But I didn't care. It was only 45 minutes anyways. And the captain promised to push the "pedal to the metal" on our way south. And he did. As soon as we left the tarmac in Oslo, he stepped on it, and we landed just 15 minutes late in Venice.
I travel light, so I only had a small backpack as carry on. So I didn't have to wait for mu luggage. Out the doors, I found the ticket office for the bus to Piazzale Roma. The last point where cars are no longer used, and boats, or feet, take over. I walked over to the bus, proudly showed the driver my ticket, and he pointed to a stamping machine. I waled over and tried to put my ticket in. It refused to go in I tried several times. The driver came over to help this helpless tourist. He slid it slowly inside. The machine gave up a happy "Bazzzzzzzinga!" and when he pulled it out again, it had a lovely stamp on it. I was now allowed onboard.
A few minutes later, we were on our way. Not long after, we were crossing the bridge leading to Venice. Or Venezia, as it's true name is. We stopped at Piazzale Roma, and we all got off. I pulled out my phone and found the hotel on the map. Walking through this wonderful waterworld was just as I had imagined. Lots of nice little bridges across the "canali", small restaurants, shops and a zillion tourists. I landed in the high season. So there were a lot more than usual now. But I didn't mind. Too much...

My hotel was on one of the "tourist-trails" through the city. So it was relatively easy to find, and it also meant it would be easy to find all the famous sights everywhere. Albeit with the downside of having to walk in a queue more or less constantly. I walked into the reception. The guy behind the counter greeted me with a big smile. I gave him my passport. "I have a reservation!". "Yeees." He gave me the key to room number 12, and instructed me how to get there. I managed to find it on first attempt. Not bad for me. I opened the door, and the smallest room I have ever stayed in, appeared behind the door. No private bath. Not even a toilet. Hmmm. I looked up my reservation. It clearly stated "private bath". "With shower". I walked down to the reception. I showed him my reservation. He looked at it. "Yeeees!" He scanned through the reservations. "Aaaah! You in 21, not 12! I make mistake!" Room 21 was how I expected. I unpacked my stuff, and decided to walk around the city, and get something to eat. My first italian meal in Italy. I was excited.

It felt like every corner I passed, every street I walked, had something to see, to photograph. I went into many churches and they ranged from ok to stunning.

This particula roof painting was simply stunning. When you stood just beneath it, it was like it stretched all the way into heaven. It is simply impossible to depict without standing there yourself. Simply amazing work of art!

In one church, a amn and a woman was sitting behind a veil, restoring an old painting it looked like. When I took a photo of them behind the veil, they came out as if they themselves were a painting. Or at least, thats what I think.

After some wandering around, I landed on a small restaurant in one of the narrow streets. "Lasagna della casa" sounded like the thing for me. It was delicious! After the fill-up, I was ready to search for the most visited place in the city, the Piazza San Marco. As expected, I walked in a queue for most of the trip, but I did some twists and turns in the streets, so I ended up in some streets that nobody else were walking. In the end, I arrived. Much to my surprise, there weren't many people at the time. Maybe a few hundred. But then again, they had closed everything. So all one could do, was to walk around taking pictures, and buy souvenirs. I shot a few images, and walked back. I had planned to get up really early the next day to beat the crowds.

From the San Marco church.

I set my alarm clock to 5 am. And got to bed. I was tired, and fell asleep fast. My phone woke me up at 5. I yawned and wondered what the sound outside was. It sounded familiar. I walked over to the window, and sure enough. Rain. And just to complete the picture, lightning and thunder. I went back to sleep, and didn't wake until almost 8. Had a shower and breakfast before going back to Piazza San Marco. The lines to San Marco church was already hundreds of meters long, so I gave up on that. And decided instead to take the elevator up the bell tower to get a better view of the city, and the piazza below.

The bell tower.

San Marco church.

As always, I note small things. And in the elevator, I found the name to be funny.

The view from up there was spectacular. I shot a ton of images of the city. And the interior of the tower itself. If you are ever in the neighborhood, the view is well worth it.

One of the bells int he bell tower. 

I loved the way the pendulum had made a dent in the bell over the hundreds of years. 

The rest of the day, I spent walking around, enjoying the streets. Especially the narrow ones. The bridges, the small restaurants and shops. And the canali.

Whenever I walked into a street like this, I would wonder whether this was a deadend, straight into the water, or, like in this case, it turned right into another street.

Narrow street where you had to walk sideways if you met someone.

Wash hanging out to dry.

Some of the boats were beautiful shiny mahogany boats.

This is actually the fire-boat. Back from a mission, backing into the firestation "garage".

The Rialto bridge. One of the bridges you have to cross to get to Piazza San Marco.

I saw this tower lurking behind some building I was taking photos of. And I thought it was leaning. At first I thought it was just the perspective. But as I walked up close to it, it was obvious it was indeed leaning. And it is referred to as the leaning tower of Venezia...

Here you can see some support at the bottom. The 53 meter tower is leaning 1.8 meters. So it obviously need some support to prevent it from tipping over.

This is the kind of waterworld I can enjoy. And it has been a goal of mine to come here some day. And now I can strike that off my list.

Crossing the river

Transnistria, or "Over the river Dnestr", is really a part of Moldova, but operates like an independent country. It is not recognized by anyone else, but they have their own currency, border control, and government. Which is kinda stalinistic. Although I could not see much of that when I visited. It was more or less like any other country
When I booked the hotel in Tiraspol, the capital, I found there were two available on the internet. One that I got the impression was so bad you would rather sleep on a bench in the park, or a high quality VIP hotel. I opted for the latter. "Hotel Russia". But of course...
Getting to Tiraspol meant I went to the central market in Chisinau and looked for marshrutkas. I wandered around for quite a while without finding any. But as I was close to giving up, one drove straight past me. I ran after it, and it stopped outside the market. I got my ticket and found a seat in the back. Better room. Or so I thought. Until the last passenger arrived. A woman who obviously liked desserts, to put it mildly... She sat down beside me, and I was squeezed between her and the guy on the other side. Warm and cozy... Not. But it was only a few hours ride anyways.
We stopped at the border, and I had to go to a small boot to get my entry card. Or note. The guy behind the counter spoke a little English, so I managed to give him all the info he needed. And he printed out a card that allowed me to enter and stay for 48 hours. I was only staying less than 24 hours. So I was happy with that.

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't any significant changes in scenery as we drove into Transnistria. I had no idea where the hotel was, or where the marshrutka stopped, so I just sat watching where I was and when we stopped at something that looked like a market in Tiraspol, I got off.
I stood there by the street as the van drove off. I looked around at the people and the buildings. The noise from the marked inside the building behind me told me this was a major place where people met. I snapped a photo of the houses across the street before entering the market. It was huge, and they sold everything from tea leaves to homemade honey soap. I love the smell of food markets in the morning.

Honey!

More honey, and honey soap

 

After enjoying the buzzing market for a while, I started to walk towards my hotel. I had downloaded the map of Tiraspol using the wifi in Chisinau. Tiraspol isn't exactly the largest city in the world, so it didn't take long before I stood in front of the "VIP" hotel.
I was met by a friendly receptionist, who greeted me in Russian. "Hi, I have a reservation!" I said. She smiled a bit embarrassed. "Ah.... eeeerrr.... No England! Moment!" she said and ran to get someone who did speak "England". A less smiling woman appeared.
"Yes?"
"I have a reservation!"
"Passport!"
Clickety-clickety-click!
"Yes you have!".... (I imagined her saying "The computer says NO!"..)
Clickety-clickety-click!
"No breakfast! But cost for good breakfast in hotel!"
"No thanks..."
"Hmmmm..."
Clickety-clickety-click!
"Room-key. Put in lock. Door open. Elavater over zer! Have nice stay!"
I smiled, nodded and walked towards the elevator. It took me a few floors up. Room key. I put in lock. Door open! Simple instructions... The room was very nice. The view, not so much. I checked out the TV. Not surprisingly, it had a load of Russian speaking channels. But they also had Discovery channel. Dubbed by the least engaging Russian speaking guy they could find. Nice... But I wasn't here for enjoying the room, or watching TV anyway...
I walked out into October 25th avenue and sought out the few things I had found on the internet might be good photo-ops. An old tank parked on a small knoll beside the street, some Lenin statues and a war memorial place.
On my way there, I passed a restaurant with a bit cheesy name. See if you can spot it...

The tank was placed near the war memorial, with a small church-looking building. Behind it, a war memorial. Commemorating the fallen in Afghanistan and in the war with Moldova. Transnistria still isn't recognized as an independent country, but they have an "agreement" with Moldova to just live in peace. Too much bloodshed to bother about a small strip of land east of Dnestr. Which, by the way, ran right beside the monument...

After taking photos of statues and buildings, I just walked around in any street I found. Searching for the unexpected, and the expected. Churches, houses.

Selfie-spot?

Like, Disney? Capitalist imperialism in Stalin country?

25th of October avenue

Are they branching out?

And the Eiffel tower. "Wait what?" I stood the watching this scale model for a while. Almost transfixed by the fact that in one back street, in a nowhere part of town, this scale model was standing. Several meters high. Oh, well.

One thing I loved, were the otherwise rundown old houses had beautiful colours. I took several pictures of them. So these are the United Colors of Tiraspol.

In the evening, I decided to check out a restaurant that was said to be the best in town. The "Kumanek". I sat down, and a Russian speaking girl came to my table. When she realized I didn't speak Russian, she went to get someone who spoke "England".
I ordered the steak with mashed potatoes, and a homemade berry icecream for dessert. A few minutes later, she came with a small entrê. A snack. Quite spicy. And a shot of something homemade. Yikes! That stuff put hair on your chest. And probably your tongue as well...

After a while, my steak arrived. I have to admit; this is one of the best steaks I have ever had. Juicy, perfectly prepared and so tender you could probably chew it with your eyelids. And the mashed potatoes? Out of this world! If I hadn't been full after the meal, I would probably have ordered another round.

And the ice-cream was a refreshing end to the meal. I left with a huge tip on a table and big smile on my face.

I walked back to my hotel for the night. Just popped in to "Sheriff" (a "dear leader" owned chain of everything...) to buy some snacks and drink. Retiring to my hotel room, watching Russian dubbed Discovery while eating locally produced snacks.

The next morning, I went out and bought some breakfast at the supermarket before checking out. I had seen what I wanted to see, so I just planned to go to the train station to catch a marshrutka back to Chisninau.
Before I left, I wanted to buy some old coins. These aren't just old coins, they are made from a plastic composite material. I believe these are the only coins made in this way. A few years ago, metal prices were soaring, and Transnistria decided making coins out of metal was too expensive, so they used a plastic composite instead. I had hoped I would get some of these as change when buying stuff, but it never happened. I asked at the hotel, and they had a small souvenir collection of these coins. I bought it.
But when I walked into the market I had been the day before, an idea came to me. I went to all the small shops and money changers, showed them the coins in the souvenir. Some of them shook their heads, while others smiled and found one, two or a bunch of coins from wallets, paper cups or hidden underneath a bunch of stuff. They were more than happy to get rid of them, since they are no longer in use. I bought everything I could lay my hands on before I went to the train station to take the marshrutka back to Chisinau. I exchanged them 1-1 with modern coins and notes.

I felt happy. And after buying some snacks and drink for my trip, I walked to the train station to catch a ride.

The trip back was eventless. I just sat in my seat, watching the beautiful landscape as we drove by.