Now, I rather foolishly thought that getting in to Moldova was going to be the difficult part. But not so.
Perhaps it was because we arrived at a relatively civilised time at night rather than stupid o clock in the morning, so the guards still had some enthusiam for the Play With Stupid Foreigner game. Luckily, I got chatting to a Moldovan lass on the bus so she could explain what was going on. To start with, for the first time on a border we actually had to get off the coach and go into a building to give our passports to officials. I'm not entirely sure why. Still, the Moldovans looked at them, stamped them, gave them back fairly quickly. That would be the hard part, right?
Nope. Then a Romanian guard came along to take our passports and make snide comments at people. Obviously I didn't understand exactly what was said, but I could recognise the tone of voice and the response it was getting. My new friend translated and told me that some Romanians had a fairly bad attitude towards Moldovans, and they tended to mess them about a bit on the border. Also, they don't tend to get too many English or American people crossing by bus or car, so to be prepared for them to 'have a bit of fun' now they have the chance. Great. (I imagine if I'd been sitting with a Romanian, it might've been a slightly different explanation).
So the guy takes all the passports and disappears into the official-looking buildings. Then we all have to get off the coach, get out our luggage and open it for the guard. After a cursory poke at the top of each, he asks us if we have any cigarettes in there. Perhaps it was because this was what I was told to expect, but it did seem more like an inconvience than a genuine attempt to find contraband. A little while later all the passports get returned... except mine. Another twenty minutes later he comes back to say that they're still checking my passport and need another form of ID. I calmly handed over my driver's licence and was left to stew for another twenty-five minutes. Eventually, the guard returns with all my documents and a big smile, and we're good to go.
So yeah, a whole bus had to wait three-quarters of an hour just for my passport. I feel special.
