Early morning, my driver, Zhenya rolled up at my hotel. A big, burly man who could likely crush me with one hand tied behind his back. He didn’t speak a word of English either, which made him even a little more intimidating. Dressed in his red jacket, brown Adidas track pants, and Ralph Lauren baseball hat, he wasn’t winning style awards anytime soon. He seemed nice though. I’m not sure how I worked that out, but I was sticking with it. So much better than the Moldovan murderer just out of prison, that my alter ego had him labeled as.

Journey into the Unknown

It’s about 60km that separates Pridnestrovie from Chisinau. Pridnestrovie is commonly known as Transnistria in other parts of the world, but from September 2024 it was banned to use the term Transnistria whilst here, and you can be fined. Commonly referred to as PMR, meaning Pridnestrovian Moldovan Republic. It’s also around 15 minutes from Ukraine.

If you read stories about Transnistria, you will hear it is not safe, to go, get out if you and there, and don’t visit. Government websites tell you to not go there, or get out if you are already there. I read all this advice and decided to go anyway. That’s not to say I wasn’t a little apprehensive as I journeyed my way. We started to see armed guards as we approached the border. Pridnestrovie has a border despite not being a recognized country. It is recognized as a country only by the other two post-Soviet frozen conflict zones, Abkhazia and South Ossetia, but nowhere else. You show your passport and get provided with a personal migration card for your visit. Having my driver, Zhenya, really helped with no challenges with translation.
I had no idea what was being said, he could have told them ‘I have a Brit for execution, and I would have been non the wiser’. They let me in.

I’d arranged to come to Pridnestrovie with Andrey, someone who was recommended online. The company is PMR Tours. He gave me great confidence that everything would be good with my day. I combined a Classic Tour and a Soviet Tour, they seemed a good mix, and so it proved. My day was filled with stories of now, of the history of how things were. I kept on being surprised, but always in a good way. I learned a huge amount too. My knowledge of Soviet history has far to go.

When I was with a tour guide in Turkmenistan I only fleetingly saw and merged with locals, but here it was different. I was eating meals at a Soviet Cafe, taking the bus, walking city streets, and blending in. When I say blending in I’m not sure that was totally the case. At various moments I felt I was a little different. That said, it was never in an imposing way.

Come Where The History Is

Pridnestrovie has its own government, political system, and currency. It has the ruble here, but that’s not the Russian ruble. It all molds into an intriguing place, filled with history, filled with stories filled with adventure. What a great place to come visit. Come where the history is. Come where the stories are.

The architecture of the town of Bender (pronounced Bendery) and the capital of Tarispol is pure Russian, but then with a little bit of modern thrown in. Money has come to PMR, in the form of Sheriff, a company that holds a monopoly in multiple industries. The architectural differences in Tarispol is stark in some of the buildings, the commie blocks (apartment complex) through the last century have in small parts been replaced by modern ones. The modern, for me, is not a good look. The character of the buildings around has so much more.

We went for lunch in Bender at a Soviet Cafe called Stolovka USSR. the food is cooked in Soviet style, and the decor is Soviet-style too. You’d think it is a tourist trap, but Bender doesn’t get tourists, this is authentic and allows you to step back in time, with the prices too. Locals eat here, and occasional tourists too.

How sentimentally nostalgic is this place? A lot, and you get a feel for the future for the locals, their longing to be in the present, and their necessity of clinging to the joys of the past. This is a Russian enclave because of that. It’s evident, relevant, and delightful.

A day that started at Bender Fortress captured the old and the new of this landlocked breakaway State beyond the Dniester River. This place has character in spades.

We met Zhenya, my driver after my tours were complete. He took me safe passage back to the familiarity of my Chisinau hotel room. He decided not to murder me, which was nice.

Reflection

Coming to Pridnestrovie (aka Transnistria), I didn’t know what to expect, in fact, I’d researched, but found I’d only scratched the surface. I thought I’d visit and be happy to leave, but really I ask myself, when can I come back.