One night in Coimbatore, my research showed that there isn't much to see. Since the hotel canceled our reservation a few hours before our arrival, we searched the area and found a hotel with decent reviews. However, when we saw a cockroach crawling across the bed, initial doubts set in, and upon closer inspection, you could see how gray and stained the bedding was. Half the bed felt damp and didn't smell good, plus the air conditioning was so noisy that we hardly slept; at least we had breakfast the next morning before quickly checking out and heading to the train towards Kerala.

Here we stayed in a super chic hotel, watched the fishermen at work, strolled through the beautiful colonial old town, visited the Jewish quarter, treated ourselves to another massage, and attended a traditional Kathakali show where a story was told using only pantomime, drumming, and singing – highly recommend! Then we moved on to Marari and the backwaters on a houseboat.

We continued to have good luck with the weather; the next 3 days were continuously sunny, the first three sunny days after the monsoon season. The houseboat with a driver, cook, air-conditioned room, and sun deck cost just €300 for 2 ½ days. We passed rice fields, small villages, holiday apartments, and villas of wealthy Indians. Otherwise, we spent a lot of time reading, sleeping, and enjoying fresh fish on the boat. The next few days continued similarly; our hotel for the following three days had a large pool where we spent the first 1 ½ days before the weather worsened. But lying in the air-conditioned room and reading wasn’t so bad either.

In the low season, the night including breakfast here costs us €60, while in the high season, up to €240 per night can be charged. The resort feels like being in the jungle, the pool and the room are really spacious, everything is spotlessly clean, and the hotel staff follows you around everywhere. Sometimes we were the only guests with 8 staff members around us. Still, €240 in the high season would be a bit much.

After I stylishly signed my leasing contract for my new car at an old wooden desk, the journey continued to the last city in India, Thiruvananthapuram.

Here we continue to do nothing. We go once to the temple where only Hindus are allowed, and have one last meal together before Fina heads back home.

Unfortunately, I also received some sad news; my grandpa passed away today on 31.08.2025. I had already considered before my trip that this could happen, and I am even sadder that it happened just two weeks before my return. Thank God we were able to see each other again in May. Now I am considering whether to head home a little earlier, but that will take a few more days.

I stayed in Thiruvananthapuram for two more days, but aside from eating, I hardly left the hotel, on the last day I visited a church by the beach and a mosque. There, I was once again reminded of how beautiful it is at home. The coast here has virtually eroded away, and people live in dilapidated houses that look uninhabitable due to the wind and salty air. The garbage is simply disposed of over the wall into the sea.

This continually gives me the impression that we have almost destroyed the Earth. Coral reefs are dying everywhere, coastlines are being washed away, and nature is filled with plastic. It's sad that we are still debating at home about building new gas power plants, postponing the ban on combustion engines, or building new highways instead of expanding bike lanes and public transport. Instead, it gets hotter and hotter, and some areas will soon be uninhabitable; a warning example is my next destination, Abu Dhabi and Dubai.

I knew it would be warm, but I didn't expect this. The air was so humid that the perceived temperature was registered at 48°C. When I was on my way to the promenade in the afternoon, I found it hard to breathe at first; it felt like breathing under a warm blanket. After a 15-minute walk, my T-shirt was wet, and I had sweat stains forming on my pants as well. I actually wanted to see the mosque and head to a small peninsula that supposedly offered a good view of the skyline. However, I abandoned that plan due to the heat and spent the rest of the day in the hotel. Overall, I felt like there was very little greenery in Abu Dhabi, and since it was very hazy, I wouldn't have had a good view anyway.

It was only a short two-hour bus ride to Dubai, and since it wasn't any cooler here, I also spent the first hours in my hotel room. Until I found cockroaches under and on my backpack, but unfortunately not just a few, but several. And when I found a bed bug on my backpack and more cockroaches on the wall, that was too much, and I asked for a new room. In the next room, nothing was visible, but I found two more bed bugs outside on my backpack. I hope they are not in my backpack; I will need to keep an eye on that for the next few days. This is now the fourth time I've had bedbugs in my room; I haven't been bitten often, and it seems like it paid off that I never leave my backpack open anywhere. When I get home, I will place my entire backpack and contents in the freezer for a few days; no one wants those critters at home.

I made a good plan for the next day. Since there is a metro system in Dubai, I used the stations to cool down. First, I walked to the metro station, then towards the market. After 20 minutes, I stopped at an air-conditioned snack bar for lunch. Then another 20 minutes strolling along the promenade, visiting another market, with a stop in an air-conditioned supermarket before heading to the next metro station to cool down for 15 minutes. Then I walked for another 20 minutes through the recreated old town before heading back to the metro. After a 15-minute ride, I went to the Dubai Frame and through a small park. Afterwards, I enjoyed a drink at a restaurant to cool down before heading to the next metro station and from there to the Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world. From the air-conditioned metro station, I walked about one kilometer over an air-conditioned bridge to the Dubai Mall, and after another 10 minutes walking through the huge mall, I stood in front of the impressive building. I first let everything sink in for a few minutes before I retraced the same air-conditioned way back.

For two days it was okay, but at the moment I can't imagine living there. I think I wouldn't enjoy spending 7 months a year mostly in buildings; exercising or casually sitting in restaurants is just not fun. Even lying on the beach wouldn't be pleasant in those temperatures.

In general, I noticed that there are very few young people in Dubai, which changes at my next destination, the Republic of Moldova.

This is what the Gemini AI has to say:

Dubai:

The age structure in Dubai is heavily influenced by the high number of foreign workers. A large part of the population, almost 70%, falls into the age group of 25 to 54 years. These are mainly male workers who come to the region without their families. The group of 15 to 24-year-olds makes up only a small percentage of the population (about 11%).

Moldova:

In Moldova, young people are a significant part of the population. About a quarter of the population (around 23-26%) is between 14 and 34 years old. The first employee I saw on the tarmac in Moldova was, of course, wearing Adidas joggers—very stylish, as it is in the east :)

Chişinău is a quiet, unexciting capital; it feels significantly smaller than its 530,000 inhabitants, as there isn't a typical city center like we have, everything is a bit spread out.

The large church, various parks with a large swimming lake, and the market are definitely worth seeing. In the evening, there was a football match, Moldova against Israel—not special, as there were only 7,500 spectators, but still a nice change. The 'stadium food' was a disaster, there was a hot dog that couldn't even compete with the one from Ikea and some fries. I could have also treated myself to tacos or popcorn, but of course, I passed on the last two options; the Cvas (a fermented malt drink with low alcohol content) was all the better.

A visit to Chişinău wouldn't be complete without checking out the largest wine cellars in the world. We took a bus to Cricova, located in the suburbs. We drove for about 1½ hours in a golf cart through the 120km long tunnels (of which only 80km are still in use) and stopped at various stations. In a small cinema (underground), there was a film about the winery. We visited corridors where wine was stored and others where champagne was stored, which still has to be turned by hand. The bottles are stored at an angle, neck down, in special wooden racks called pupitres. An experienced riddler (remueur) turns each bottle daily by an eighth and gradually positions it upright until it is completely inverted. This process takes several weeks, depending on the effort involved. Workers can turn up to 50,000 bottles a day. Unfortunately, we were not shown the actual production, which apparently takes place in the factory above the tunnels; for €25, it was super interesting, but I expected a bit more for the price.

After I collected my backpack at the hostel, I headed with the next marshrutka towards Tiraspol, in the breakaway region of Transnistria. While it was quite 'European' in Chişinău, I felt at least 20 years transported back in time in Tiraspol. The buses are 60 years old or older, the roads got worse, and most residential buildings had seen better days, at least on the outside. Payment by card is only possible with Russian cards here. Fortunately, the euro is also a popular currency, and I got a pretty good exchange rate for the Transnistrian ruble. Otherwise, you could tell you were in the East; a smile at the supermarket checkout, in a café, or in everyday life is hard to find, at least among the older people. Otherwise, people were friendly, and the architecture still strongly resembled Soviet styles. So I strolled through the city for the first afternoon, paying Lenin a visit. I passed by some typical war memorials, tanks, and an Orthodox church. The Tyra River, which separates the Republic of Moldova from Transnistria, is largely paved with concrete, but at certain spots, some sand has been washed up where residents go swimming. My path then took me to the neighboring city of Bender to see the large fortress, which was very worth seeing, as you could freely move around everywhere, walk along all the walls, and climb a lovely lookout tower.

Three days later, my excursion into Transnistria was already over; there isn't much more to see here, so I returned to Chişinău and from there took a marshrutka to a cave monastery, which is the only UNESCO World Heritage Site in Moldova. Located on a hill surrounded by a tight loop of the Răut River, the monastery itself sits atop a steep limestone cliff that offers an impressive view over the river valley. Not far away is a bell tower that marks a rock-hewn corridor leading into the prayer room and on the other side back outside; here you will find a kind of terrace with a view of the valley, situated in the sheer wall. A kilometer further, there are more caves that were also built by monks. The side walls look like concrete slabs and were intentionally built this way in the 15th century. These cuts and the resulting ledges helped reduce erosion from wind and water. They redirected the water and prevented the surface from peeling uncontrollably, which could have threatened the integrity of the entire cave structure.

In Brașov, I was first greeted by cold and rainy weather—good thing I had already given my warm clothes to Fina :)

With Andy, I explored the beautiful old town after the rain had lessened a bit; in the afternoon, I ascended the local mountain. Andy then joined another group visiting a nearby castle; since I didn't want to be in a group, didn't want to stand in line for 60 minutes for the castle, and wasn't willing to pay €25 for it, I took a bus to a gorge that was recommended by everyone and described as very impressive. Somehow, I had expected more; only a small stream flowed through the rocks, and I had to wait for each ladder until it was my turn to proceed. Plus, I wasn't really motivated to continue hiking to the summit; I'm slowly ready to go home. Another reason not to wander alone is that there are many bears in Transylvania, and it's strongly advised not to hike alone without bear spray and a whistle, so I turned back to the city.

From Brașov, I continued by bus to Sibiu; the old town is also very worth seeing; it looks like Germany, and most information is still provided in German here. I visited the huge open-air museum outside the city. There are countless mills, old farms, churches, and houses to discover, but unfortunately, quantity beats quality here; most houses you cannot enter or they are already in ruins; still, it was worth the visit. In the evening, we watched a football match in the first Romanian league. The stadium was modern, but the football offered us a meager spectacle—maybe at a third or fourth league level.

And then the last stop of my journey arrived. One last bus ride from Sibiu to Cluj. One last check-in at the hostel, one last night in the hostel, one last dinner. I am still happy to be heading home now, to sleep in my own bed, to see family and friends again, no longer sleeping in hostels, no longer being kept awake by loud snorers. No dirty showers, no long bus rides in too small and cramped seats anymore. However, I am also sad and nostalgic that this chapter of my life has come to an end after years of saving, years of planning, and especially anticipation! The spontaneous expedition to Antarctica, the Galapagos Islands, the most dangerous mine in the world, Huayna Potosi at over 6000 meters, or the Pamir Highway with a visit to Afghanistan.

Before the trip finally ended, I also visited the salt mine in Turda; the two large halls are simply gigantic; I have never seen anything like it. 80 meters long, 50 meters wide, and up to 90 meters high. So high and big that there is a mini-golf course, a Ferris wheel, and even boat rentals in the mine—it made me feel like I was in another world. We returned through a nearly kilometer-long tunnel that nearly ended in the city. The last dinner was extensive: local sausage with potatoes, a beer, a fruit brandy, and for dessert, a kind of donut with ricotta, raspberries, and a cream puff.

And thus ends my journey; it is time for one last farewell to my grandpa, and who knows, maybe there will be a third year 'on the road'—perhaps the trips will also be shorter from now on; who knows what time will bring, after all, it has been quite exhausting and expensive:

• 384 travel days
• 26 countries visited
• 180 accommodations
  - That means a new hostel or hotel every 2.2 nights
• 86,446 kilometers traveled
  - 2.16 times around the world
  - of which 3,338 km on foot
  - 4,223,000 million steps
  - 8.7 kilometers per day
• 903 hours in buses, trains, or planes
  - That means 2.20 hours per day
• 15 books - 7356 pages
•  1.3 liters of mosquito spray
• 1.5 liters of sunscreen
• 28,600 euros

Galati, I didn't make it to the center. What I saw was enough for me. Lots of dirt, lots of dirty industry, lots of brokenness and ruins, the infrastructure in a miserable state like I had never experienced before. That scared me off and made me look for a way out.

The border control was again very easy. Cut in line, processed preferentially due to the heat after I denied the question about weapons or explosives 😀

Then I was in Moldova 🇲🇩, here too the roads were initially in a bad condition. But that should improve. Only the main connecting roads are paved here, everything else is gravel or heavily worn field paths. Because of the heat, I decided to take the main roads. But here too, caution is required. It often happened that potholes were excavated about ankle-deep to be later filled with new asphalt, and all without any warning signs or speed limits. So full concentration was always required, unthinkable in Germany. But here people can deal with it, also unthinkable in Germany 🤗.

The landscape changed at the border, the fields were not as big anymore and it became slightly hilly. I was impressed by the sometimes quite severe soil erosion, entire slopes were simply washed away.

Many farmers were on the road with horse-drawn vehicles or single-axle trailers.

What was quite noticeable compared to Romania or Bulgaria is that they try to maintain and preserve existing buildings. Many nice small houses with a nice paint job, very little neglect. That was not the case in the first two countries mentioned.

They also handle waste differently here, there are enclosed landfills, and there's not as much litter on the roadside.

The people are friendly, open, and interested in you, even though communication is very difficult, but with hands and feet and Google Translate into Russian, it works too.

Today's temperatures put an early end to my journey.

When my thermometer showed 37 degrees during the ride, I called it a day, as not even the wind could cool me off anymore. When I arrived at the hotel, the hotel thermometer showed 40 degrees, that's not acceptable, especially when riding with protective clothing. The locals mostly ride motorcycles with flip-flops, shorts, and a t-shirt.

All in all, it's actually a great country with great people, but I will leave again tomorrow. My gut tells me, even if there is no travel warning, the Republic of Moldova is not a NATO member, borders Ukraine, Transnistria is secessionist and occupied by Russians, better go back to Romania and the Carpathians. It might be a bit cooler there.

Destination reached, Transnistria, Tiraspol and Bender. Promise fulfilled. And there is this country after all!!!

This morning I got back on the saddle and rode the approximately 70km to Tiraspol, taking the northern route through the vineyards and past the largest wine cellar in the world in Cricova, unfortunately I didn't have time and besides, it's 0.0 everywhere here, a few checkpoints further east, Russian buffer troops monitoring the ceasefire and crossing the Dniester, paid 4€ toll and got a few forms, surprisingly my nationality is zero! 😆 Now it's official!

Well, I briefly 'strolled' in Tiraspol, took a few proof pictures and in Bender, the only Transnistrian city 'behind' the Dniester, visited the fortress and after a few hours went back on the southern route. That's it. Oh yeah, for the 4€ at least there were properly drivable roads.

Note, I also added one more country point, FK Kodry vs. FC Sheriff Tiraspol 0:2, the game took place on the side field of the Zimbru Stadium complex, in the main stadium there were the witnesses and some other sect. But it was free.

Well, how do I start?

Gudd, so today with pancakes made by Mamuschka with homemade jam and a nice egg with ham and cheese and coffee for breakfast. Then off, saddled up the mare and headed towards the Moldovan border, easier said than done, at the first station (actually the main crossing) I passed without realizing it, no signs, didn't notice anything. Same problem at the second possible station when I crossed a huge river (Dnestr) and saw Kiev on the road sign, I had the strange feeling that I had gotten completely lost, I quickly looked at the map and yes, I should turn back. Then I drove to the next possible border station. No sign, no indication, friendly passersby helped here 'Moldova tuda👉?' There, tuda👈! Ah, okay. I'll take the dirt road. Now the fuel was running out and no gas station, no border. Oh well, keep going and just when you think it's not possible, there's a gas station somewhere! Fill up, poachalsta (here you get a full tank) . Then continue across the field and behold, a border station without a crowd. Drove right up to it, knew how it was now. But no, it didn't go any faster, this time my passport was apparently so interesting that the inspection process took a whopping 45 minutes, 30 minutes with the Ukrainians and 15 with the Moldovans.

Then I could continue, they didn't want to sell me a vignette, but the motorbike was okay.👍🏻

First sign Chisinau, turn right, mh. The road got worse and worse, no traffic? Am I still on the right track? Passerby, Chisinau? Höä? Ah, Kissiniov, tuda. Guddie, turn back again. Then found the M5 road sign, Chisinau, and off we went, literally. While in Ukraine you could at least see the potholes, here there were cracks, drops, depressions, etc. that you mostly noticed too late, and that at speeds of up to 120 km/h. It was insane how much pounding the suspension, the Guzzi, and I had to endure today, some of them were so heavy that I thought something would fly apart or we would fly off the track. But the landscape was beautiful.

I boldly claim that with my other bike I would have flown mercilessly off the road at one or the other place, thanks to Luigi and his suspension builders. I REALLY MEAN THAT TODAY!

And the M5 road certainly doesn't stand for Motorway 5, but for the 5 characteristics of the road or its users: masochism, martyrdom, torture, material-consuming, and murderous.

Now it's only a stone's throw away from the destination Transnistria, 30 km, and I'm considering not driving a little further through Transnistria to Odessa. 🏖️ Let's see, first 2 days in the Soviet Union at the Chisinau Hotel, the first house in town, but before 1990.

Now it's starting to rain here, luckily I don't have to drive anymore.

Actually, I could also take the rest of my vacation and keep going, Lake Baikal? 🤔 China🤔 let's see, dear colleagues... 😉

On Sunday morning (29.07.2018) shortly after six o'clock, the train station hall in Chişinău slowly fills up. It's time to leave the semi-comfortable overnight accommodation and prepare for entry into the Pridnestrovian Moldavian Republic. By half past six, we have taken our seats on the train, which gradually fills up. At eight o'clock, we get off at Bender 2 station without being bothered by a Moldovan border guard. In the train station hall, I wait for about 45 minutes until I can register as a tourist with a Transnistrian official. The man is a very calm contemporary in a chic uniform, who even tries to communicate with me in English. I can fill out the registration form mostly truthfully, only for the address of my stay, I have to be a little creative. I give the address of a hostel in Tiraspol, even though I am already considering camping by the Dniester. Since the next train to Odessa only leaves on Thursday, the officer changes my planned length of stay until August 4th after consultation, so I have plenty of time to leave the small strip of autonomous land in the east of the Republic of Moldova. Then I am kindly bid farewell, and I set off with Rango towards the city. Around nine o'clock, I exchange a few Moldovan lei for Transnistrian rubles at the first opportunity, and take a break for a small breakfast. Then I continue towards the city center, passing monuments of Pushkin and Lenin. Around noon, Rango gets something to eat in the center, and we find a shady spot to linger. Afterwards, we head towards the Tighina Fortress. The main entrance to the fort area is closed due to construction work, so I decide to leave Rango and luggage on the eastern bank of the Dniester. I quickly find a spot protected from the sun and too many curious looks. It's brutally hot again, so I use the next 2 hours to swim and doze. Shortly after four o'clock, I set off alone to the historic fortress and then again for shopping in Bender-City. Back at Rango, I wait until the largest crowd has left the nearby city beach, set up our tent, and let the day come to an end by the river.

The Monday is spent quite comfortably with swimming and some morning exercise, while the water level of the Dniester continues to rise. Around noon, we set off for nearby Tiraspol, just before the water completely surrounds us. The sun is scorching and the path offers little shade. Therefore, in Parcani, I immediately board the first electric trolleybus that runs between Bender and Tiraspol. How contemporary old technology can be sometimes... Although I have to buy 3 tickets (for me, Rango, and luggage), we still get to the capital, which is about 10 km away, very cheaply, for a total of 39 cents. We walk a bit towards the Dniester, take a break along the way for a coffee, and then set up our camp about 1 km south of the city along the river. Shortly afterwards, it starts to rain and we retreat into the tent. In the afternoon, I take my first trip to the city. I spend the evening with Dicke in the tent, while the mosquitoes buzz outside.

I spend the Tuesday morning (July 31, 2018) at the shady campsite, as the sun again brings very high temperatures. In the early afternoon, Rango and I take a walk in the city and find out the departure time of my train on Thursday morning. Along the way, we encounter several stray dogs, some of which gather together and bark at us. Even more unpleasant is the encounter with a large black shepherd dog that comes running out of a property and confronts Rango, but neither Dicke (whom I keep on a leash) nor the shepherd dog take it seriously. It remains to be noted that in Iaşi, I have lost a certain ease in dealing with such situations. From the train station, we meander back to the tent, and I take a dip in the river.

On Wednesday, we take a tour of Tiraspol. Like Bălţi, Chişinău, and Bender, Tiraspol is also characterized by typical Eastern European architecture. Many small plots of land with single-family houses and only in the immediate center can bourgeois streets with multi-storey, mostly two-storey, residential buildings be found. Individual panel housing estates complement cultural institutions, administrative buildings, and Soviet-style memorials. The generous planting of the streets with plane trees and other shade-giving trees proves to be very pleasant. Back at the tent, I meet some locals of my age, with whom I strike up a conversation and spend the evening. They even offer me a room in Tiraspol, but since I plan to move on the next day, it's not worth the move. So we say goodbye shortly before midnight, and in addition to good wishes, I receive a roll of toilet paper for the road. Very caring of the group.

On Thursday morning (26.07.2018) around six, all visibly homeless people are driven out of the train station hall in Iaşi, I am allowed to stay a little longer. Around quarter to seven, Rango and I make our way to the nearby bus station. The first buses to Chişinău go through the Sculeni border crossing, about 15 km northeast of Iaşi. I strike up a conversation with a young bus driver. According to him, even the exit with a dog is not possible at Sculeni, as the only chip reader for the border officials is reportedly in Albiţa. That also means my Plan B, to walk to Sculeni and from there to the nearby railway line Bălţi - Ungheni, is futile. There are two bus connections over the approximately 70 km south situated Albiţa border crossing, at 18:30 and 19:30. Since no one can assure me that I can leave Iaşi with either one of them, it seems inappropriate to wait that long. I decide to make my own way there. The next train to Bârlad leaves shortly before eight, so there is some time for a small breakfast. A short time later, we are sitting in the train heading south and we find ourselves at Vaslui station at ten past nine. Here, I take care of Rango's ear, recharge my batteries, and complete the travel report on my stay in Iaşi. Then I make my way to the bus station with my backpack. There are still three day's walk from here to the border. With the third bus driver, I finally have luck with a bit of support, and we can ride with him to Huşi. The only downside is that Rango has to be put in the luggage compartment. Since it is quite large and otherwise empty, I decide to give it a try. I sit in the passenger compartment directly above Rango, so I should be able to hear him. At the first stop, I get off and check on him - everything seems to be fine. Nevertheless, I feel guilty during the three-quarters-hour drive. We get off at the bus station in Huşi around half past twelve. At first, it looks like we could continue directly, but the responsible bus driver waves us off. Next attempt is at three o'clock. During the waiting time, I have a cup of coffee and a pack of gummy bears that I found in my West package. Shortly before three, the bus driver beckons me over and we can ride in the back of the bus. We get off at the Albiţa border crossing at half past three and approach the first person in uniform. The gist of the conversation: Crossing the border on foot is not allowed in Albiţa, we have a big problem! At that moment, I felt like Asterix in search of the A38 permit, just incredible. The next uniformed person listens to my problem, asks if I have papers for Rango, if the big guy is vaccinated, and sends us on with a 'good luck'. At the Romanian border hut, there is a cheerful border guard. He asks me to be patient for a moment, as he organizes a vehicle to take us with. Neither Rango's passport nor his chip interest him. A moment later, we are sitting in a car with a nice Romanian who is picking up his son from the other side of the border. At the Moldovan border post, there is also no interest in the big guy, only the baggage check ends abruptly when the border guard smiles after opening Rango's tailgate. So we are back in Moldova in no time. At a nearby rest stop, I get some water for Rango and try in vain for a good hour to find a ride towards Chişinău. Then we set off on foot southeast. After about 5 km, we are stopped by two policemen on patrol with their quad. After checking my identification, I am vigorously instructed to return to the main road to Chişinău. My planned and much shorter route through the villages is rejected. very annoying. So I set up our tent a little northwest of Feteasca in a small acacia grove, overlooking the nearby border crossing.

On Friday, we set off towards Chişinău around half past eleven. When we arrive at the main road, I organize some food for Rango and a coffee for myself at a gas station. The next bus to the capital leaves around two. So we still have enough time to walk to the next village and replenish my reserves of Moldovan Leu. The village shows itself in a typical Eastern European appearance - individual houses with small gardens along a main street and a parallel side street. Every now and then, a fountain invites for refreshment. In Leuşeni, the bus driver refuses to let Rango on board. We continue walking to the next gas station. There, I once again try to persuade several people to give us a lift, once again without success. We continue along the busy main road towards the north. We turn northeast towards Oneşti and reach the village around half past three. We have covered about 12 km so far. The sun is mostly obscured by a few clouds, but it is still uncomfortably warm. So Rango drinks a whole bowl of water during the break, while I enjoy a cool soda. After half an hour, we continue. After two kilometers, we are picked up by a group of construction workers. We had already encountered the guys at the gas station before Leuşeni. We can ride with them to Hinceşti and unexpectedly cover half the distance to Chişinău on the same day. They also give me a tip for a hotel, but it falls through on site. After consulting with some Moldovans, I set up our campsite near Parcul Victoriei.

On Saturday morning (28.07.2018), our first stop is the castle in Hinceşti, which is located very close to the park. The building appears to have been renovated, but is currently not accessible. We then go to the city center, where unexpectedly the first bus to Chişinău takes us. The bus is already packed, but we are allowed to board anyway. I can hardly believe my luck. So we get off shortly after eleven at the southwestern outskirts of the Moldovan capital and make our way to the city center from the bus station. I have marked about 10 hostels on my map and hope to find accommodation for 1-2 nights. There is no hostel at the first two markings, but instead a hotel in Thai style with separate bungalows. We could stay there, but the budget doesn't allow for over 40€ without breakfast. We stroll through Valea Trandafirilor (a kind of city park) and take shelter from the rain for an hour in a beach bar with a covered terrace. We continue to the old town of Chişinău, where we go from hostel to hostel. At around six o'clock, we visit the last marking on my route, but even there we cannot find accommodation despite having a free single room. So I decide to make my way to the train station in the Moldovan capital. There seems to be a campsite at the northern outskirts, about 12 km away. However, I have already gotten an impression of the city during the day, so there is no reason to force a stay. We treat ourselves to dinner and reach the train station at around quarter to eight. I receive several pieces of information about the train ride to Bender, my next destination. The first information at the information desk: There is no longer a train to Bender, but I can take a train to Odessa the next morning at 6:57 am. The second information at the information desk when I try to buy a ticket to Odessa: There is a train to Odessa on Sunday, but I can no longer buy a ticket for it, so I won't be able to leave Chişinău by train the next day either. I am recommended to take a bus - very funny! The third information at the ticket counter: Taking the train to Bender the next morning is no problem if I'm also taking the train to Odessa. However, whether I can bring Rango along must be decided by one of the train attendants, who are expected to arrive with the train from Odessa at half past ten. At half past ten, I get the green light from one of the train attendants. No problem, Rango is allowed to come along. I announce the good news to the ticket seller and can purchase a ticket. To celebrate the success, I treat myself to a cool kvass before finding a quiet spot in the train station hall with Rango.

On Sunday (15.07.2018) I start the day with a small breakfast in the sunshine and a wonderful view over Bălţi. Shortly before eleven, I make my way to the train station with my trusty companion. With still very summery temperatures and little prospect of shady hiking trails, trains are supposed to take us further southeast. The next planned stop is Chişinău. Shortly before two o'clock, a train from Bălţi goes there daily, so there is enough time to pack up in the morning and get to the train station with luggage. We continue walking towards the city, I treat myself to coffee and some cookies at a arcade while a short rain shower passes. So we meander through the second largest city in Moldova for a while, until we meet again at the camp in the afternoon. I upload some pictures and write a travel report before going to Daria and Dima at the university in the evening to watch football. Dima cooks up a feast, cooking is one of his passions. So the evening passes quickly with football, good food, and chatting. I receive plenty of food packed for the journey, and I will probably carry my own vegetables with me for a while.

On Monday morning I start the day with a swim in the nearby lake. In the morning, I recharge my batteries in the sun and read. Around noon, we make our way back to Bălţi and stroll around the city. We make another trip to the train station, as there has been a small change in the travel route. My mother was able to send a package with new hiking boots to Iaşi through a co-worker (Prof. Georgeta Salvan - many thanks!). So I need the departure times for trains to the border town of Ungheni. In the evening, I am invited to Daria and Dima's once again. I contribute a few small things to the meal, but I leave with more than I brought. As luck would have it, Daria was born in Ungheni and offers me and Rango accommodation at her parents' place. She is off the next day and insists on accompanying us to the train station. I am back at the camp around nine o'clock. Rango gets to enjoy a few more "pelmeni" dumplings and then it's time for bed.

On Tuesday, July 17, 2018, I use the morning for some minor repairs to my equipment. Around noon, we pack up our stuff and around two o'clock we make our way to the campus. Daria is already waiting for us and Dima also takes a short break from his work to say goodbye to us. We go to the train station, have a coffee on the way, and are seated in the train to Ungheni promptly around quarter to five. During the almost three-hour train ride, I work on Rango's paw protection and receive valuable craftsmanship advice from the train conductor. We arrive at the destination around half past seven and are picked up from the station by Tanja and Oleg. We walk to their apartment in a high-rise building, I can take a shower and shortly afterwards we sit down to a shared dinner. There is borscht, potatoes, fried fish, vegetables, cheese, and bread. I have kvass and the hosts have wine. Rango also gets his share, but has to stay in another room as there are three cats living in the apartment. After dinner, we go to a nearby bar for a nightcap. Around half past eleven it's high time for bed, as the train to Iaşi leaves at shortly after seven in the morning.

On Thursday morning (July 12, 2018), I start with a dip in my swimming pond. Then, breakfast for me and Rango. After packing our things, we set off along the Prut River around noon. Shortly after one-thirty, we can replenish our drinking water reserves with the help of friendly residents in a suburb of Lunka. I decide to walk into the town for a coffee and a longer break, even though it's not directly on our way. On the main road in Lunka, we are stopped by two elderly residents who don't quite believe my search for a magazine for a coffee break. They call the police. It takes a while for the police to arrive. Checking my identification and finding out the reason for my presence on this exact road also takes some time. To pass the time and out of curiosity, my luggage is inspected, and once it becomes clear that I am a tourist and not a terrorist, one of the residents serves me coffee and cake. After that, the two border guards drive us a bit further towards Moldova, to Tarassiwzi. Very nice of the guys. We continue along the main road, but I'm not supposed to get too close to the Prut, which forms the border with Romania here. Along the way, I replenish our food reserves, and by six o'clock, it's time to look for a place to spend the night, just before Vanchykivtsi. In my search, I come across a family celebration in a garden plot. Before I can even explain my situation, I am invited to join the meal. There is plenty of grilled meat, vegetables, bread, and cheese. Rango also gets his share until our hosts retire around nine o'clock. I enjoy the idyllic garden for a while longer before going to bed at around ten-thirty.

On Friday morning, we are awakened by the first rays of sun tickling the tent. I have a hearty breakfast and am treated to a coffee and something sweet around nine o'clock. By ten-thirty, we are ready to go, say goodbye to Nina, our host, and head to the nearby town. At the first newsstand, I inquire about a train to Moldova, but it only leaves late in the evening. In the center, I decide to try my luck with the bus. Kolja, whom I meet there, helps me. No luck with Rango though. I take advantage of the good network and upload some pictures before we continue on foot to the east. It is very hot again, and the road offers little shade - a challenge for the big guy. So, I hitchhike and hope for some helpful people. The first ones to give us a ride are two men on their motorbike block (a simple trailer with a motor attached to two wheels instead of a horse - cool thing). After about 2 km, our paths diverge, but I don't have to wait long before we are offered a ride in a car. The craftsmen drive us to the Ukrainian-Moldovan border. There we take a coffee break before entering Moldova without any problems shortly before three o'clock. There is neither bus nor train here, so we walk to Lipcani, the nearest larger town. I need new money and a new SIM card. We reach the town at around five-thirty and are invited by a man to his place. He's a bit tipsy but insists on providing me with a place to sleep and dinner. After a while, I agree, mainly because I'm pretty exhausted. In his apartment, he introduces me to his wife and takes care of Rango and me with food. However, over the next hour, it becomes clear that his wife is not thrilled about our presence. It's time to thank them and move on. Shortly before seven, we are in the center of Lipcani, where I can buy Moldovan Lei and some food. It's too late for a new SIM card by now. We make our way to a water body marked on my map. There is plenty of reed here, but there hasn't been any water for a while. When setting up the tent, my pole breaks again. For now, a tent peg has to serve as a makeshift replacement. Then I retreat to the sleeping area with Rango.

On Saturday morning (July 14, 2018), after breakfast, I once again rebuild my tent pole. The remaining sheet metal and a water bottle serve as material for the new pole, resulting in a composite material. By half-past eleven, we set off to the nearby town center of Lipcani. In addition to the SIM card and meat for Rango, I try to organize a bicycle with a trailer. They seem to be impossible to find in the area, and I am advised to take the bus... Well, hope dies last. It takes a while, but with the help of a few older women, we finally manage to persuade a driver to take us to Bălţi. We arrive at the bus station there shortly before half past four. A chat with a local doesn't yield any tips for a good camping spot, but my map shows Lacul Orăşenesc not too far away. This body of water has a name and even a beach - hopefully, there is water this time. On the way there, I pass a place to stock up on drinking water, which I naturally use. There, I am approached by Dima and Daria, who offer to accompany me to the lake and help me find a camping spot. By six o'clock, the tent is set up, and I was able to convince the two to have dinner with me. Before they return to their place, they invite me to watch football and have dinner together the following evening. I take a bath in the lake, enjoy the evening view of Bălţi, and retire to the tent, quite content.

For a good meal for 2 people with appetizers, main course, dessert and drinks, you pay around 300 lei. That's less than 15 €.

Now we are in Chisinau. We will stay here for several days, relax and explore the city.