The kindness of strangers

A haphazard journey from Romania to Moldova presents many complications, most resolved in random encounters

- SIMON CALDER

The Danube mist was so thick I could hardly see the dawn. On Friday I woke up in a cheap hotel in the Romanian city of Galati, close to the point where the nation meets both Ukraine and Moldova. I was heading for the latter - specifically on the 8am bus to the city of Comrat, capital of the strange Autonomous Territorial Unit of Gagauzia. After seeing the sights and a spot of lunch, I would continue to the national capital of Chisinau on the 1.05pm bus in good time for some exploration. What could possibly go wrong - and right? I was about to find out.

8am: The sole Mir Trans Express departure of the day to Comrat is due to leave from an implausible location: on a suburban street just past a student pub named Student Pub, with no evidence whatsoever that this is an international departure point. I arrive in good time, since any alternative to the bus is guaranteed to be expensive and awkward. I have no actual ticket, just a reservation. Furthermore, I have neither Romanian nor Moldovan currency: just two €50 notes.

8.25am: Had the express bus glided through the fog without my noticing? The two other people who were waiting for it look increasingly despondent. Just as I am running through a possible alternative of a shared taxi to the border, a walk across no man's land and the hope of finding some kind of transport on the other side, the express turns up with a handful of other passengers already on board.

I had been half-hoping for a proper, 50-seater coach. But no: it is a marshrutka. These are the beefy minibuses fitted with 20 seats, including a funny fold-down one right next to the driver, that serve as public transport across much of eastern Europe. The ceiling is carpeted, the legroom is minimal.