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About Ungheni

Reckon they’re a bit like Szpilman, y’know? Hiding, surviving, dodging the coppers like he dodged Nazis. “I’m not going anywhere!” – another cracking line from the film, and I bet some of ‘em feel that, stuck in the game. Me, I’d rather see ‘em legalised, taxed, sorted – less aggro, more *panem et circenses*, bread and circuses, keep the plebs happy! But nah, too many stuffed shirts clutching pearls.

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So, I hop on the bus. It’s packed, like sardines in a can. I’m squished between this old lady and a dude who smells like he bathed in garlic. Not cool, man. But hey, at least I got to see the beautiful vineyards outside the window. Taraclia’s famous for its wine, right? I could almost taste it.

Assistance from Poland reached or will soon reach Edineț, Taraclia and Comrat