retiredmartin

March 2025. Chișinău. Moldova.

Chisinau had looked quite promising based on Untappd check-ins;

though once you leave the capital there’s very slim pickings.

I left Mrs RM to talk to ChatGPT while I nipped out to,

a) get some Moldovan lei. A machine gives me a single 1,000 lei note (£42.88) & when I

b) visit a supermarket I get a distressed look from the cashier with no change. Time for

c) a second craft bar.

They’re not big on lighting in Chisinau,

something to do with Dark Skies, I guess.

But it’s an unthreatening place, with minimal graffiti.

That one says “Ask for cask”.

There is no cask in Moldova, but Litra’s tap room will suit fans of Vocation or Pomona,

a very classy meat and craft place where the young and beautiful head in the evening to go “Ooh, Pink Boots”.

Table service, but for that I get a nice barman steering me safely away from the beautiful people.

An oatmeal stout, some naff indie, and enough life to persuade me to stay for a second half litre.

“You’ve just spent £6.44 on beer !” texts Mrs RM, who uses Monzo to track my every move.

The beer is tasty, the Zappa-themed toilet humour superb,

and I make a note to bring Mrs RM back to taste the meat-heavy menu. It never happens.