Trip to Romania
To Markku Siirilä and Reijo Mattila
26th March anno Domini 1993
Loading in Muurame in the morning… I left with Vesa 4 o’clock. We we’re at Muurame at 7 a.m. Siirilä’s truck from Ullava was at the loading site. It had a short Norwegian trailer; enclosed trailer with side opening. Smaller goods were loaded on it because it could be sealed, if necessary… At 8 a.m. Reijo Mattila came from Nivala. He had similar open trailer as us. Only slightly longer. For first it seemed like we could get going before midday, but at 4 p.m. it seemed like it wasn’t happening that day at all.
Markku Siirilä came from Helsinki to Kyminlinna motel with transport permits and other files. Pölkki and Janne Siirilä went to spend a night in motel. Mattila, Vesa and I looked so poor that a porter didn’t let us in. That served us right.
Markku Siirilä left with us to continue the trip.
We strayed from the path for the first time in Hamina, to Kesoil gas station near the crossing to the harbor. So far so good. Vaalimaa customs were closed at 12 p.m.
Let’s sleep.
27th March 1993
We left from Vaalimaa (from Finland) at 8 a.m. There was no problems worth mentioning at customs. That’s strange!! The milometer said 23500 when we were leaving. Refueling 420 litres at Vyborg cost 420 Finnish markka.
We got a young boy to be our guide in Saint Petersburg. We got through it intact. Just got a little irked and whatnot.
We refilled with Russian rubles, 100 litres 550 rubles = 50 fim. The guide cost 100 fim.
Lights were gone dark in the trailer. Militsiya women in poor clothes. They decided the payer to be me and fined 50 $. OUTRAGEOUS. But served me right.
We went to sleep at 11 p.m. We had drove the whole day, 422 km. The road was slippery and icy.
28th March 1993, Sunday
Markku had a coffee maker. We drank coffee at 7 a.m. We went to squat in forest. The trip continues. We drove about 300 km in the morning and then refilled about 200 litres. The tank became full. It cost 190 fim.
The border of Belarus. A banana to customs. Vot horosho.
At 10:15 p.m. the meter says 236023. We have driven 601km today. Good.
Let’s sleep.
29th March 1993, Monday
5 o’clock. It’s dark and I went to shit to a lush Belarusian field. You didn’t find bushes there. I started to wonder how many Finns have went missing into the vast Russian country. What would be announced if it was me? Disappeared during a harvester export trip somewhere near Mogilev. Nope, I will left nothing of me here except this pile.
The battery was empty in Siirilä’s truck. We made cables with wire. The vehicle was started. We made coffee. We left at 6:15 a.m.
The border of Ukraine. It was 10:15 a.m. I gave a beer can at the gate of Belarus, nothing at the gate of Ukraine.
The scenery was interesting. Storks’ nests on telephone poles. Houses in villages were shacks behind continuous board fence. Chickens, geese, turkeys, horses, cows. Women were handsome. I almost drove to Reijo Mattila’s rear twice before we arranged that he would warn on walkie talkie when he brakes.
On the highway before Kiev 01:30 p.m. The load almost spread. There’s distance left only about 1400 km. Driving through the city took 4 hours. No right currency for diesel. With 10 000 rubles we got 60 litres to Reijo. Another 60 litres from a military man. We drove 100 km to Zhitomir. 300 litres from mafia men. 120 litres for me.
Today we drove 570 km. It’s 10 p.m. Let’s sleep.
30th March 1993, Tuesday
Up 5 o’clock. I sang: “Anttila gets up from his bed…”. Markku didn’t look very happy, Reijo looked neutral. We, a little older men, are always so even-tempered. Let’s go already. Vinnytsia. Driving through cities is slow.
200 litres fuel from a gas station. 50$ is about 300 fim.
Hilly lands. Soil is black as carbon. Horses, carts, unbelievable vibes.
At 10 p.m. in customs. The milometer says 237064. Horses’ hooves clatter in darkness. I woke up do it. Something was breaking into the truck. I asked for Reijo and Markku with walkie talkie. Neither answered. I put my shoes on, turned lights on and started the truck at the same time. Vesa opened the door and said: “we are refueling, not stealing.”
It’s 2 a.m. There’s a fight at the border gate.
31st March 1993, Wednesday
10$ to fuel. We ran out of dollars, we had just Finnish and German marks. We woke up at 5 o’clock, records were checked and passports were taken. Waiting. Pause.
At 10 a.m. Ukrainian forwarding agent. Three import permits cost 50 dm = 180 fim.
Transit in russian cost 60 dm = 220 fim.
We got our passports back. It’s 12 o’clock. 100 metres, out through the gate, third gate ahead. A crowd with bundles has waited as long as us. To where?
At 3 p.m. telephone connection to Bucharest. Custom officers work. The trucks were weighed and measured. Mattila’s truck is too long. Problems. Our truck is 25 cm too long. Overlength transport permit cost 780 $ = 4680 fim. Customs guarantee hasn’t been paid. It will be taken care of tomorrow, so we go to sleep.
At 10 p.m. we had drove 1 km. Shitting. The hole in earth was surrounded by concrete.
1st April 1993, Thursday
We are waiting… While I waited I watched a local way of life, which went like this. At 9 o’clock people – mostly older women – with bundles started to go to Ukraine. Soldiers let through the customs a small group at a time. Things they dragged along were merchandise, mostly metal dishes. In the evening they returned with a little bit smaller bundles.
Last night there had been a fight in queue, some fists but predominantly war of words.
the payment for lengths of the trucks had been paid. But the customs cost for goods hadn’t, nor the guarantee. We weren’t allowed to leave… We found a bar. We got to eat cooked food.
Meal for three 3600 leu = 34 fim. A glass of whiskey 200 leu = 1,90 fim. Reijo had to repair his truck’s lock.
Dallas aired on tv in the bar. Pamela was kinda lovely. There were a lot of people watching. Robust men, all with fur hats. Waiters and cooks sat in the front row. There was serving only during commercial breaks.
Cold water came from a tap outdoors. There each of us washed our faces. Good night.
2nd April 1993, Friday
Tomorrow is the last exhibition day. The goods should have been already arrived. Even President was to come to exhibition. Not Koivisto, though.
At 8 a.m there’s need to go to “toilet”.
At 10:45 a.m. a buss of Finnish company goes past. A sign says Istanbul – Bucharest.
At 11:25 a.m. we might have left. Nobody shooted at least. 501 km to Bucharest.
At 12:40 p.m. through Suceava. Moderately well-marked road. One traffic sign was a bit unclear, picture of a horse and an 1-ton car, a line diagonally across. We just drove past and nobody stopped. Maybe we’ll know afterwards.
There’s a restaurant close the road. There was parking space. We ate for four.
Cucumber, steak, potatoes and beer. 5400 leu = 50,- fim.
400 km to Bucharest. The road was quite good. Mighty trees grew on the both sides. Wide fields extended beyond the reach of the eye. There was no cover to squat, just behind the trucks. Later we noticed that locals stopped by culverts. Brilliant idea! Running water and all.
Speed limit at urban areas was 40 km/h. It’s 6 p.m. We drank coffee. Thanks to Markku, bread. And cheese, thank you Reijo. About 260 km left.
At 11:30 p.m. 19 km left to Bucharest. A parking place on the left. Corners of Siirilä’s truck hit each other. He had forgotten to shorten – no, lengthen a draw bar.
A car came to show us the way. There was a fenced and guarded yard about 5 km away. The trucks in order. A room upstairs. There was a shower and toilet. No paper. Fortunately I had some left. Clean clothes and sleep. Good night, Hanna and kids. Especially kids.
3rd April 1993, Saturday
Up at 8 o’clock. There were people outside. A group was waiting downstairs. They shaked our hands and welcomed us. They promised food and coffee. Talked English. Thank you. Then there came Finns, Nokkakone and Valmet men. I mistaked one as a customs officer, because he tore seals off and threw them to birds, but he wasn’t. It was just a practice here.
The loads were unloaded. There were enough people, that’s for sure. It was a local agricultural institute. We went to unload tractors at railway platform 3-4 km away. There were three big oxen lying on a road. A train or a car had driven over them. When we came back, there was only one left.
At 2 p.m. loads had been unloaded. At 3 p.m., we went to eat. Thank you.
At 5 p.m. we set off to the Finnish embassy for Markku’s visa. The driver speeded on streets like a crazy person, pass all his foes. He had a lot of foes. A vehicle stinked of gasoline. I prayed to Markku not to play with fire. Markku didn’t listen or hear. I prayed to Allah. He reportedly lives somewhere around here. It helped. We were alive. Horrid side streets. We found the embassy but not an ambassador.
We went to hotel Flora, where Nokkakone and Valmet men were.
At 7:30 p.m., three calls to Finland were ordered at a hotel reception. It was Saturday and calls came relatively fast. First came Reijo’s phone call. We went little farther away so Reijo could tell her that he still loved her very much.
Then came my call. Kaisu told that she was very happy that I was alive. I was happy that she was happy that I was alive. Lastly came Markku’s call. Markku got to know that it’s on the house. He talked very long.
Siirilä will probably manage with Ukraine’s Visa in Russia. Hopefully. We sat in a bar. Then we went to a hall. Finnish capitalists (Nokkakone men) had own table there. An orchestra performed to Finnish guests. Well, there was nobody else anyway.
It was very fancy restaurant. Waiters were in black like crows. Nobody kicked me, Vesa or Reijo out like in Kyminlinna. And it was fair. We had already suffered enough. Besides Markku had nice clothes. Service was amazing. The crows made sure that nothing was lacking. And a glass was never empty. We were introduced to each other properly. Nokkala, head of Nokkakone, a Valmet man was from Suolahti factory and three Nokkakone men. If I understood correctly. Foolish me.
Criticism was given to the way things were handled. All had their faults, good heavens. The biggest problem was however that a receiver was a member of parlament. Wiktor Surgulef, minister of agriculture, or something like that. When things went wrong at too high level, the matter has been turned into question of prestige and not even compassionate eyes helped anymore. Not to mention bribes.
A local taxi took us to accommodation with his Mosvitch and sometimes it seemed like he was as lost as we were. We had no idea where we were. Miraculously and with help of God we got there. We went to sleep at 1 o’clock. Close your eyes.
4th April 1993, Sunday
Up at 8 o’clock in morning. The trucks were refilled 1200 litres in total, 100$ = 600 fim. The tanks are full and one and half barriers to Reijo. Refilling took long time and institute’s tank went out of fuel. I counted truck tires in the yard. I got 1600, but reportedly there were only 1200. They were brand-new 11-12 inch tires.
We ate at 2 p.m. Then we left. It’s 10 p.m. We had driven 400 km without stopping. Distance left to the border 100 km. Wanted to take a leak, too.
We found out what the traffic sign at the beginning of journey meant. Markku and Reijo got fined 1000 leu, about 4 fim per man. That served them right, violators of the regulations.
12 p.m., at Romanian customs. A man demands TIR-carnet. We showed CMR. A customs officer came. She put stamps and checked the trucks. We bought five canned meat and tobacco from a tax free shop. One packet of cigarette to a soldier and we got to the Ukrainian side of the border.
We had to get Ukrainian visa, which cost 15$ per man. Customs mostly just mulled over what to take. They took canned meat, a packet of cigarette and chewing gum. Through the gate at 4:30 a.m. Let’s sleep.
5th April 1993, Monday
It’s 8 a.m. Fuel traders woke us up. They wanted 100$ for 300 litres. No deal. Too expensive. A soldier with gun had asked Reijo for tobacco at night. Reijo had given whole packet and almost started smoking himself, even though he hasn’t for 9 years.
We had driven 400 km, 900 km left to Bucharest.
There was no fuel in gas station. In another we could have got 60 litres, 20 litres per truck. In another we got laughed at, when we offered 20$ per 100 litres and they didn’t have but 100 litres.
Fortunately the country was full of thieves and smugglers. There was a truck in a parking lot, from which we got 100 litres / 20$. We bought 600 litres from this angel. Another angel came, and we bought 300 litres for 45$. I love thieves, good wine, bad women, Kaisu and Finland.
How could I cope to live here in Ukraine, A land full of men who looked like me wearing fur hats in sunny weather. How about Romania? Furry lumps everywhere.
I have told many times how I took a dump there and here. It has become very crucial part of this trip. From Vaalimaa to Belgrad there is no proper outhouses, let alone water closets. Shacks, where there were shoe pictures on top of the hole, reeked and floors were soggy and muddy. How such a big country can be this SHITTY.
The nature is covered with black soil as far as the eye can see. Trees by the road were big and full of birds. Some cottages were tiny huts, others were on the contrary ornately painted. One thing drew our attention. If you drove slowly on side streets of cities, you got to see door steps with flowers and wreaths around a photo which seemed like a picture of departed. It was always a young person in a picture. Could it be that they wanted to remember deceased as young and beautiful? Even I looked so sweet in a confirmation photo.
We slept 20 km away from Zhytomyr, in the direction of Kiev. Sleeping in peace, if thieves weren’t going to wake us up.
6th April 1993, Tuesday
At 5 a.m. we were going to try bypass Kiev. When we came from the other direction, it had taken 3-4 hours. Now the city was behind us at 7:15 a.m. A magnificent bridge crossed the Dnieper. A photo taken in morning fog might have failed.
At 11:45 a.m., Ukrainian customs. The import permit was stamped. A young lady sold coffee, bread and beer in wooden hut. She didn’t almost give me any bread, even though I politely said ”Rubles to you, fair maiden, goods to me”. That’s how trading usually works. Eventually she went to a kitchen and got for me a big tough loaf which could kill a man. It cost only 100 rubles from my 1200 rubles (about 11 fim). Vesa came to aid and managed to spend nearly everything. He bought five bottles of 11% beer and a bottle of sparkling wine. We drank it as a sleeping medicine in the evening.
At 12 o’clock Belarusian customs. We didn’t stop.
At 12:30 p.m. we cooked mushroom soup and ate bread. We were close to Gomel. Next would be Mogilev and then Orsha. The meter read 238850 km. Yesterday we had driven 350 km. 850 km from Romanian border, 1350 km from Bucharest and 4350 km from home.
It’s 8 p.m. A trader wanted 40 dm for 100 litres of diesel. He sold 100 litres for 13$ (about 80 fim) to Reijo. 600 km left to St. Petersburg. We drove 200 km of it. We were somewhere near Pskov. I’m not sure. Let’s sleep.
7th April 1993, Wednesday
We woke up at 6 a.m. We stopped to eat at 10:30 a.m. Luckily there are friends who give food from what little they have. Reijo found a HK sausage which had retained its original color and even tasted almost like sausage. Thank you, Reijo. Markku gave coffee and bread. Thank you, Markku. I would buy food myself, but we didn’t bother to stop anywhere. Maybe there is still something to eat under their seats?
At Neste gas station in St. Petersburg litre cost 3,30 fim, even though in the same place 900 litres cost 135$ = 0,90 fim / litre. Reijo threatened to tear his Neste credit card in half. Don’t do it, Reijo. Don’t. All of 900 litres didn’t fit in the tanks. We put 20 litres into Finnish speaking Estonian man’s jerrycan. Boys gave him coffee too and he became our guide. The boys went to shop with the man’s wife. Then I heard that it was the easter week. They had apparently found a cheap place because four cartons of cigarettes, four litres of cognac, beer and wine for four men cost less than 300 fim.
Then we went apace through St. Petersburg. Reijo made sin by dissing Russians’ road making skills using very foul language. Namely a main leaf of the leaf spring had broken. But at least the other leaf wasn’t and it’s a smooth road to Vyborg.
We ended up getting annoyed by merchants in Vyborg. I bought a children’s fur hat from one but didn’t care to take it with me. The woman started to try to hand it out by the truck’s window. Daughter-in-law would for sure have carried it with a stick straight to dunghill. And she would have done the right thing.
From 12 p.m. to 7 a.m. we were at Vaalimaa customs. Customs officers were about to take Reijo’s alcohol. But Reijo asked politely and promised to give cognac to his wife too, so they let him be. That’s fair.
The whole trip from Alajärvi to Alajärvi was 4000 km long. Greetings to Markku and Reijo. Thanks for sausage.
Taisto and Vesa Penttilä
Taisto Penttilä Oy 