Sure! Let's Go to Chisinau...

With a pending pack out, perhaps traveling out of the country for a weekend excursion would be the last thing to calm the nerves amongst the scatter of clothes, toys, and dishes. Or maybe it's the first. Either way I stuffed our car with the usual arsenal of essentials: pack 'n play, bribery food and toys, DVDs, four electronic sources of entertainment, clothes, stroller, case of Ursus beer, blah, blah, blah. I even remembered the kids and husband and began the northwest drive to Chisinau, Moldova.

Six hours, four potty breaks and two barf breaks later we rolled into town to meet our dear friend John who guided us to the Air BNB house that Google failed to find. The kids all but threw themselves into bed. While the men relaxed at the table tearing into grade C pizza, I made quick order of dismantling the car seat cover that Margo christened and drank back some beer. Long day for all of us, but really not altogether terrible.

Found all over the city.

Once part of former Soviet Union, the country is now the poorest country in Europe and the scars of the Soviet times have not healed completely- but they are fading. We strolled for hours in the parks with grafittied and tattered playgrounds next to five star hotels and restaurants. We made small talk with children who spoke a dialect of Romanian and Russian (Romussian?) and placated their exasperated parents who thought Deets and Margo were terribly underdressed and dirty. The weekend was a lovely opportunity to reconnect with my family.

Soviet playground: rusted metal bars everywhere.

Some light accounting on the day.

What is it with kids and tree stumps?! Their favorite stop on the day.

Mark and I also enjoyed a night out galavanting with John and a few of his friends eating lamb and drinking beer. At the babysitter's rate comparable to the rates from 1987, how could we not? "She thought babysitting was easy money - until she started hanging out with the Andersons. Schlinks." Deets entertained her with hours of talking about trains and helicopters.

Deets and Margo totally dug the babysitter so we used her again to go visit Chateau Vartely, a renowned Moldovan winery that grows, cultivates and bottles its own wine. The three of us got down to business tasting some wine. While I cannot doubt the quality they put into their bottles, I was sorely disappointed with the flavors. I like my wines dry and fruity, not sweet and flowery so it was a struggle to keep my poker face as the scent of roses and peachy sweet fuzz coated my tongue with each sip.

Trying to enjoy my diabetes in a glass.

As you might imagine the leisurely mature afternoon rapidly escalated into a giddy and guffawing time there as we waited for the cook to catch and slaughter the chicken for our soup (or rather to heat it up.) It was our time to leave when five wedding parties took over the winery. So instead, as we mortified our young taxi driver on the way home with our delinquent jokes and buffoonery. 

Our Air BNB hosts invited us to their home that night. As Margo slept we snuck next door where we dined on cheese and sweet pumpkin filled placintas, a traditional Moldovan pastry and drank their homemade wine and apricot palinka. Deets made a considerable impression when he announced his intent to poop. Luckily they were unbothered by his major accomplishment and bid us farewell with pear jam and a 2 liter bottle of wine. I do love that about Eastern Europe: the kindness and generosity is always unmatched here and just might be the biggest thing I will miss about living here.

Sunday arrived quickly and it was time to head back. We packed the car and crossed our fingers for a six hour barf free trip back home, relying on my keen sense of direction to get us out of Moldova. What's a forty minute detour in the whole scheme of things? Besides, it's not like I needed to face packing out a house or anything...

Racing against the sunset and protests of Margo.

No more milk on road trips. Only water for this one.