I live in America but contract for a British company. They in turn use a software development house based in Moldova, hence the visit. I was visiting South Africa and had a two day stopover in the UK before I flew on to Moldova. This was a good thing, because there is a Moldovan embassy in London but none in South Africa.

No going back? or forward

The British company had already purchased my plane tickets and made the hotel reservation. So there was no going back. However, Moldovan visas normally take around two weeks to process. And to up the challenge, the Moldovan consulate was scheduled to be closed on the first of my two days in London. As much as there was no going back, it seemed there was no going forward either.

Then something extraordinary happened. The consulate was opened especially for me. What?s more, they fast-tracked the visa. I was in and out of there in less than an hour. I bumped into the ambassador and she wished me happy travels. I like to think that this was a gesture of honour to our most esteemed nation of green passport holders, but it probably had more to do with the fact that I was visiting the Microsoft of Moldova and they?d made a few well-placed phone calls.

While flying the leg between Budapest and Chisinau (the capital of Moldova), I got chatting to a well travelled Frenchman just in from Kenya. I made some comment about how much of a difference he must find between the friendliness of Africa and the surliness of Europe. Surprisingly, he said that this was a myth. He agreed that there are various types of people ? friendly, helpful, hard and nasty ? and that you get all sorts in all countries. It?s the person that makes the difference not the country.

This idea struck me and I decided to put it to the test. In particular, I thought I?d keep my eyes open for what the waitresses in Chisinau were like. This gave me a large population sample because not a meal went by in the four days I was there when I wasn?t wined and dined.

My mornings started off with a buffet breakfast to the sounds of a harp ? a live harp. Kicking the day off to the sound of a harp is not just better than Jeremy Mansfield, it?s exquisite. I?d then pad out through the august lobby of the Leo Grand Hotel (no idea who Leo is, but Grand fits well) down the red carpet to the waiting car to be taken to the office.

Chisinau has a strong European flavour, even though it is so far east and was subjected to Soviet rule. For instance, al fresco cafes dot the city, there?s a beautiful tree-lined park with busts of famous writers and coffee is served in espresso sized cups (no ?Americano? here). I visited more than my fair share of these restaurants and came across a slew of waitresses. And yes, there was something to the stereo-type of not mixing pleasure into the business of waiting tables. A local even commented that waitresses in Chisinau tend to be a sour lot.

But that wasn?t the whole story. For instance, there was the waitress at Pani Pit. This outdoor cafe adjoining the city art gallery basks in the warm Moldovan evenings under a massive cherry tree. Veal in a whisky sauce accompanied by a good Moldovan red is a fitting addition. Add live jazz to the mix and it gets even better. Add a waitress with a genuine joie de vivre and you have something that manages to balance a day that starts to the sounds of harps.

"He who never takes a risk will never drink champagne"

The last time I visited Chisinau was in winter. It was cold and bleak. It seemed that the culture was still Soviet even if the political system wasn?t. I understood even better this time round how deep the Soviet domination extended. And make no mistake, South Africa had no corner on oppression in the 20th century.

But coming back to Chisinau in summer, I realised how wrong I was about the culture of Moldova. The place was bursting with colour. The majestic trees crowded down the city streets in a glorious green. And people wore clothes that were vibrant in colour and cut.

This external expression was mirrored by an internal drive. One of the team I was visiting said that, ?He who never takes a risk will never drink champagne.? I?m not sure if that?s a Moldovan epithet or if it was a personal and poetic observation, but the man who said it believed it.

Between the outward hues and the inward nose for champagne, the Moldovan people seem to me to be rather like a flower pushing through the hard barren Soviet earth in which they find themselves. But they?re not just pushing through, they?re determined to burst forth into a blaze of colour.

My Moldovan experience was a great one. I don?t think I?ll ever be treated as well again. I just don?t see red carpets, harps at breakfast or ambassadors doing overtime in either my diary or my crystal ball. To top it all off I had the nugget of wisdom from the Frenchman. It?s not the earth you find yourself in that counts, it?s the flower you choose to be.

• Visit the website of Moldova tourism.
• Read what other travellers have to say on TripAdvisor.