Europe Archives - Wandering North

Andorra-Lithuania trip 2024 Europe

European Hopsctoch

How I planned my trip to Barcelona, Andorra, Vilnius, Riga, & Stockholm

I had booked a trip to go to Lebanon and Syria in May 2024, and I was excited about it. The flights and hostels were booked; the itinerary was made…but then the war in Israel and Palestine spread a bit north into Lebanon. This didn’t affect my plans initially, but when some of the bombs landed in or near Beirut and some airlines cancelled their flights, I started to think twice. I wasn’t concerned about the violence affecting me per se, but I was concerned about flights being cancelled and getting stranded. Work wise, I just couldn’t afford to be stranded in anywhere. So I cancelled my bookings, and I had to book another trip with just about two weeks’ notice. I don’t relish in a last minute trip. I like to languish with travel books, maps, and blogs, researching and anticipating. As I always say, however, travel teaches one flexibility.

This new trip couldn’t be anywhere that required an advance visa or anywhere that needs a lot of pre-planning. Plus, with only two weeks out most of the flights were expensive. So I traded in my desire for adventure and decided to go for a European trip. On the plus side, this would give me an opportunity to visit a couple of new to me countries, plus revisiting some other places that I like. I found a good price on a round-trip ticket to Barcelona, and from there I would visit Andorra, with a little stop in France, I would fly to Lithuania, travel by land to Latvia, fly to Stockholm, before returning to Barcelona, via Zürich on the way. It sounded delightful.

I had been to all of these countries before except for Andorra and Lithuania. Fortunately, flights within Europe tend to be inexpensive and the trip was looking to be fairly affordable. The one thing I didn’t factor into my trip planning, and my budgeting was Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift and the price of Hostels

I am in no way anti Taylor Swift, but I don’t really give her much thought at all, or at least I didn’t before this trip. When I arrived in Barcelona, I discovered that all of Europe was buzzing with her tour dates getting underway. Just after I arrived in Barcelona, she had a couple of dates in Paris and half of the girls staying in my dorm in Barcelona were on their way to the concert. One of them even lived in the United States and said it was cheaper for her to fly from Los Angeles to Europe and buy tickets there than it was to buy tickets in the States.

All of this meant that the price and availability of hostels in Barcelona and Stockholm were not great. Nowhere was this truer than in Stockholm. I had never been to Stockholm, but I had heard it was expensive, so when I started looking for hostel dorms and I found that they were in the $250 CDN range, I thought, “well I guess that’s just Stockholm prices,” and maybe it was a little more expensive because I was booking at the last minute. What I didn’t realize was that my three days in Stockholm corresponded exactly with Taylor Swift’s three days of concerts there. All of the accommodations were three to four times what they normally were and almost every place was full. I did pay $250 CDN a night for a rather unremarkable dorm bed in Stockholm – one that lacked even a privacy curtain, a towel, or a free breakfast. It is, to date, the most expensive hostel accommodation I’ve ever had.

*Hostel bunks in Barcelona and Stockholm, the latter (Bunk 4) was the $250/night one*

On the plus side, although I am not a ‘Swifty’, I couldn’t help but be charmed by all her fans, particularly in Stockholm, where they seemed to overtake the city but were so cute and wholesome that it was impossible for me to be irritated by them.

Anyway, that was just a blip on what otherwise was a very enjoyable trip to multiple places, starting in Barcelona…

Europe Ireland

New Year’s Eve in Dublin

I awoke in Dublin in my hostel bunk. I had had a perfectly lovely evening the night before but this was my one and only full day in the city. It was December 31st, and I would be leaving early the next morning. There was no time to waste.

I walked into the city and retraced some of my steps from the night before, to see the areas in daylight. The weather was not cooperating. It was windy and gray and cold. The grey and cold I was expecting and actually fine with, but the wind made things unpleasant. Fortunately, by the afternoon the sun would come out again for a bit.

I felt immediately at home in Dublin; notwithstanding the excessive alcohol consumption I had observed the night prior, it has a seriousness about it. A studious, literary kind of aura that I’m very comfortable with. It’s entirely possible that I am projecting onto the city that which I already expected from a lifetime of reading novels and poetry by Irish authors, but nevertheless, that’s how it felt and I liked it.

Walking around Dublin there were plaques and statues to great Irish writers and thinkers. I sought out Oscar Wilde’s house and the statue of him. I won’t post a photo of the statue as it is ubiquitous online and I’m not a big fan, but it was very cool to see his house.

I had planned, of course, to go to Trinity College to see the library, however, it was closed for cleaning or renovation, so I had to take it off the list. Right there is a good reason to return to Dublin. But I was able to wander the city. I visited parks and shops and numerous cafes whenever I needed a break from my walking in the cold. Everyone I chatted with was friendly.

I visited Saint Patrick’s cathedral, which was a ticketed church, but well worth it as it is beautiful inside and there is a lot to look at. I enjoyed the decoration and design of the inside of the church, as well as the mummified remains of a cat and rat that were pulled out of the pipe organ in the 1950s.

I wandered aimlessly through the city at some point taking in statues and green spaces and bits of street art.

I visited the pub the Brazen Head, which bills itself as Dublin’s oldest pub, having been open since 1198. It wasn’t the best pub that I’d been to, but since I was right there, how could I skip such superlative drinking experience?

I walked to the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which was excellent. Precisely the sort of modern and occasionally weird art that I enjoy.

I visited two cigar stores downtown. There was a James J Fox, which is related to the James J Fox tobacconist shops in London, which I frequent when I am there. As well as ‘The Decadent Cigar Emporium’. In both cases, I bought a couple of cigars and chatted with the proprietors about the smoking laws in Dublin.

I had read prior to coming to Dublin that smoking had been banned indoors everywhere, but sometimes when you make inquiries you can find that there are certain secret places to smoke. Sadly, both shops confirmed for me that smoking is indeed banned inside and that includes a prohibition on any cigar lounges. The people at James J Fox were able to give me intel on one pub, however, where smoking would be allowed because it is technically outdoors. The James Toner pub. I made a mental note of that for later.

I wandered the alleys and poked around in bookshops and vintage clothing stores, just enjoying whatever i found in my path.

I was having a perfectly lovely day – especially after the sun came out; however, things took a turn when the sun went down. It was December the 31st. What that meant was that once the evening came, everyone’s evening plans went into full New Year’s Eve mode. I didn’t have any New Year’s Eve plans being there alone in the city. I should say, I don’t like New Year’s regardless of where I am. I think it’s a stupid holiday. I don’t like excessive drinking, I don’t like staying up late, and I don’t like big raucous parties, so it’s just not for me. So spending New Years in a foreign city means that I’m a bit of an outsider. I would have been perfectly content to go for a nice dinner and have a drink somewhere but most of the restaurants had put in place expensive tickets for parties or multi course dinners with a prefix menu. And I wasn’t about to go and spend £100 to have a dinner or attend a party that I didn’t want. I also would have been happy to sit outside somewhere and just watch the world go by but, being that it was December in Ireland, it was cold and had started to rain again. I tried to elbow my way into a few pubs just to have a drink, but those places had already become so packed there was a waiting list outside.

Remembering the suggestion of the tobacconists at James J Fox, I walked to the James Toner pub. And this was my salvation. The James Toner pub is a proper pub, but they have a back entrance and there’s a sort of massive mostly enclosed patio area where smoking is allowed. You basically feel like you are indoors except that there is a small part of the ceiling that is replaced with the sky. It still had leather booths and tables and TVs and a full bar. The heaters were blaring and it was comfortable. I sat there and had three cigars and multiple Jameson and ginger ale drinks (a drink that I had only discovered once I went to Dublin and found to be quite tasty). People weren’t particularly social outside of their individual groups. It was New Year’s after all, and people were out with their friends to have a good time; they weren’t really interested in chatting with the weird foreign girl dressed in black smoking cigars in the corner. But that’s okay. I found a spot where I was comfortable, and I was happy to sit there quietly and just watch the crowd.

Once it got to be about 9:00pm, it was time to move on. The place was getting too busy and too loud, and I couldn’t sit there any longer. At this point I just reconciled myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to go to a big party so I may as well just go back to my dorm. I felt a sense of shame going back to the hostel actually. Here I was in a foreign country; was I really not going to stay up until midnight to ring in the new year? No, no I was not. I had a shower and got into my bunk and as soon as I did that I knew that I had made the right decision. I was cozy and comfortable I watched a movie and fell asleep. I got to enjoy a bit of New Year’s revelry but was able to avoid the last few hours of drunken idiots and staying up late just for the sake of staying up.

The next morning, I woke up early. I think everyone in the hostel was asleep. Even the lobby was littered with the bodies of passed-out revellers. I arranged a taxi and headed back to the airport and back to Vancouver. It was a little less than 48 hours that I was in Dublin and, clearly, I need to return to see more of Ireland, but I was completely satisfied with the short visit that I had. Although I’m not sure that I would be eager to go and visit somewhere for New Year’s Eve again, it was a great way to start off 2024.

Europe Ireland

Arrival in Dublin

The way statutory holidays fell in December of 2023, it made it irresistibly easy to take a long weekend away. I had just spent four days in Iceland over Christmas. I then returned to work for four days before again turning to the airport to fly to Dublin for New Year’s Eve. At the time, this seemed like a brilliant idea although I must admit that flying back across to Europe only four days after having just returned was a bit gruelling. But none of that mattered of course once i was in Ireland for the first time. It seemed brilliant.

I left Vancouver flew to London where I had a short layover and then flew to Dublin. This was my first time in Ireland and I wouldn’t have very much time there at all so I had to make the most of it. I arrived at about 4:00 PM on December the 30th and went straight to my hostel. I was staying at the Jacobs Inn hostel in Dublin, which was a great location, a short walk from the centre of town and to almost everything that I wanted to visit.

I don’t know what accommodation prices are like at times other than New Year’s, but at New Year’s that was very expensive. I booked myself a part in it room of 10 pods for women and I think that little bunk bed cost me about $150.00 a night CDN. Fortunately, I was only going to be there for two nights. It was a great hostel, extremely well designed. My little bunk was so cozy and comfortable it had all the necessary amenities. I scarcely saw the other girls that I was sharing a room with.

By the time I got myself organized and went out, it was dark. I walked across the bridge towards the Temple Bar area. I know, it’s super touristy, but when you never been there before it seems like a logical place to start in the evening. On the way I was walking down a street that seemed entirely unremarkable, when I past my first Irish pub.

It was called the John Mulligan pub and its sign proclaimed that it had been in business since 1782. Good enough for me, I went inside. It was exactly what I wanted it to be. It was simple, cozy, and busy, but not too loud; everyone in there looked like a local and was having a good time chatting with each other. There were still Christmas decorations up. I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey. This is the part of the blog where I should tell you that I don’t drink beer so I did not consume any Guinness. This was strictly a whiskey trip. I do like whiskey, but I don’t tend to drink the Irish variety. For my two days in Dublin I would use my naivete as an ‘in’ to talking with locals and bartenders about their whiskeys and asking them what they recommended. That worked well in this instance, as soon I was deep in conversation with two local fellows. If that had been the only thing I did in Dublin I think I would have left perfectly satisfied it was a great experience.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I continued over to the Temple Bar area, where things were noticeably more crowded and louder. The streets were charming. Clearly, there touristy, but they were extremely appealing. Everything seemed so Irish. There were fiddle players and whiskeys and Guinnesses, old buildings, men in tweed, young drunken boys smoking cigarettes…it was exactly what you would expect and everything you would want. I went into the actual Temple Bar itself, and got myself a different type of whiskey and elbowed my way into the centre courtyard, which only had a partial roof so, technically, smoking was allowed. I smoke some cigarillos and sat down and took in the scene. A band was playing Irish music in the occasional Leonard Cohen song. The place was standing room only and everyone was having seemingly the time of their lives.

I took this photo (below), which I think is my favourite photo that I took from the entire time I was in Dublin. There’s just so much energy and although you can’t see many faces, those faces that are exposed are all exuberant. It was another perfect experience.

From there I walked around, I had a mediocre meal of something that I can no longer recall that involved potatoes, and I hit up another bar where I had a whiskey and a cigar on the patio. A few people chatted with me, most of them drunk, some of them flirtatious. It was all very enjoyable. It was a little on the cold side but it hardly mattered as I had several whiskeys now coursing through my body.

It was a wonderful introduction to Dublin. The next day, December the 31st, was my only full day in Dublin and I had a lot to accomplish. I was in bed by about 11:00 that first night and excited for the next day.

(Whenever anyone tells me that my occasional short trips overseas aren’t worth the time for money that it takes to do them, I point to experiences like this. While Dublin certainly deserves more of your time than an evening, in that one evening I had a wonderful, memorable experience and I was thankful that I had another day to follow: New Year’s Eve.)

*many of the buildings had lighting projections*

Europe Iceland

Christmas Day in Reykjavik

Christmas Eve was behind me and i was confronted with my final day in Iceland: Christmas Day. I have not travelled much at Christmas. It is not a cheap as I would like, and some destinations are overcrowded. That said, it is easy to take a long weekend off from work at the holidays, so it is a convenient time for a holiday. Having done it a couple of times now, I can say this: Christmas is a good time to travel, but it is best to avoid Christmas Day.

That said, Iceland does have some fascinating Christmas traditions. There are a group of mischievous fellows called the “Yule Lads” (really) and their raison d’être is performing naughty pranks and delivering gifts to good children by placing them in their shoes. Their mother is a troll names Grýla who collects bad children in a sack and boils them alive, presumably for consumption. And there is the Yule Cat who hunts down people who don’t get an item of new clothing for Christmas and eats them. The best tradition, however, is the ‘book flood’, according to which books are given as gifts on Christmas Eve and then the rest of the evening is spent reading. This sounds wonderful – and after all of the naughty children have been kidnapped and eaten there is certain to be lots of peace and quiet for reading. Of course, I was solo and had no one to exchange Yuletide books with, so I needed to fill Christmas Day a different way.

I was flying home from Reykjavik on Christmas Day, but not until the evening, so I had a day to fill. That was a bit of a struggle. It was dark and cold and almost everything was closed. I ended up spending about $75 CDN on a buffet meal at my hostel. The hostel did have a nice cozy feeling, but no one was particularly chatty, so I ate alone. I am normally happy to eat alone, but on this particular day, where everything seemed a bit depressing, I could have done with some company.

I went out and walked around to sights that I had not yet laid eyes on; things I could appreciate from the outside and walked aimlessly for a while.

I stopped and I had a cigar sitting on a bench outside a closed early that had left its lights on and its pink plastic Christmas tree up and had a cigar. It was so cold, but it felt a bit special.

I then killed some time at the Lebowski Bar, simply because it was open. There was only one other table occupied inside. It did have a cozy feeling and was playing Christmas music. I had a mulled wine and mulled over whether Christmas Day was a good day to be visiting anything.

Fortunately, by early evening it was time to return to the airport.

I loved my time in Reykjavik, but I kind of wished I had left late on Christmas Eve or early on Christmas Day, as the last day just felt like an expensive way of killing time. Lesson learned for the future: use Christmas Day as a day for long haul travel; not for sightseeing.

Despite this, Reykjavik had exceeded my expectations. I can’t stop thinking about its beauty and magic. I even find myself thinking about how relatively close it is to Vancouver and how it is kind of a perfect long weekend getaway. Maybe I will return to see it again – maybe in the summer – but in the meantime there are more new places to discover. Like Dublin, which I would fly to four days later.

Europe Iceland

Christmas Eve in Iceland

The day after my magnificent Golden Circle tour, I thought that maybe I would be disappointed with Reykjavik, but I had another excellent day. On my first day I had already seen most of the main sights that were on my list, the second day I saw spectacular snowy vistas, so the third day was an unstructured wander in Reykjavik. I strolled the city having leisurely coffees and stopping to explore new streets. It was still dark most of the day, but I was used to this already and was in the rhythm of Iceland’s short winter days.

Still in the dark, I walked to the National Museum of Iceland. Truthfully, if you aren’t a museum person or if you are lacking time, you could skip this museum, but I really enjoyed it. It had a nice collection of historical artifacts and more modern items from Iceland, including a few creepy items that I enjoyed.

Odds and Ends from the Museum

When I emerged from the museum, the sun was rising and I walked around a little, mostly frozen lake where a congress of waterfowl was floating. The sun, golden and reflecting on the ice, the little row of colorful houses, like exquisitely crafted confections, and the birds. It was magical.

I am aware that I am overusing the word “magical” in my Iceland posts, but it is just a magical place and no other word seems quite right.

It was now Christmas Eve, and most businesses and attractions were closing at noon or 2pm or thereabouts and would have found myself without much to do, had I not booked myself on to a Folklore Walking Tour. Just as it sounds, it is a walking tour that tells the tales of Iceland’s rich history of folklore and ‘hidden creatures’. Iceland has a rich tradition of elves, fairies, ogres, and monsters of various kinds. Most countries do, I suppose, but in Iceland, they traditions seem to have carried on into the present. While it seems that most people do not still believe in such creatures or magic, some still do, and many of the non-believers seem to have adopted a ‘better safe than sorry’ attitude. As we walked Reykjavik on the tour we were told stores of ancient creatures and magic, but also about how certain rocks or trees, believed to house elves or similar folk, have been left intact when road or other construction would otherwise have eradicated them. The result is a perfectly straight road taking a bizarre turn around a collection of rocks so as not to disturb them or those that may live beneath. And there were tales of construction projects being mysteriously interfered with until the enchanted place was spared.

Of course I don’t live my life believing in such things, but I want so much for some fantastical creature to be real that I was as delighted by the stories as the children who were on the tour. It was a lot of fun.

But then the tour was over. It was again dark, and most things were closed. I decided to call it an early night and went back to my hostel to sleep.

The next day was Christmas and the day I would fly home.

Assorted Reykjavik photos from my day

Europe Iceland

Iceland’s Golden Circle

As much as I enjoyed Reykjavik, I wasn’t coming all the way to Iceland and not going to see some of its heralded landscapes. If you can’t drive, it’s very difficult to see these places, and particularly difficult to see many of them in a day. As a non-driver, this left me with the only option of taking a tour. I’m never very excited about taking tours but when I do take a a tour, it usually ends up okay. What I dread is the group tour where even if the activities are acceptable, I never really want to interact with the group. That’s how this tour started, but it ended up being great.

There are countless groups offering identical golden circle tours in Iceland. ‘Golden Circle’ referring to a route of touristy spots and sites coined by the Iceland tourism board I believe. I don’t know how I picked the tour that I picked other than that it was a small number of people. It was a long day. They collected me in the morning at my hostel and dropped me off in the evening at the same place. Given that the days in Iceland at this point contained only about three hours of sunlight, much of the tour was in the dark. This is a consideration if you are going there in the winter; don’t expect to be gazing out the window at the landscapes all throughout the ride. Most of the time you’ll be looking out the window at blackness. In some ways that’s a bit of a disappointment, but I kind of enjoyed it. Once we got out of Reykjavik everything was completely blanketed in snow and snow was falling and blowing and the sky was black. At times, looking out the bus window, all I could see was the brightness of the snow and the blackness of the sky and no discernible shapes. It felt like we were in another realm.

*Picture I took from the bus window. It was originally just black but I increased the brightness to see what was there.*

And it was snowing. Hard and at an angle. I came to learn that even if you can drive, most locals don’t recommend that tourists rent cars in the middle of winter. The roads are too treacherous and the conditions too unpredictable.

Even before the sun came up, the sky began to lighten we could see the places that we were stopping.

Up first was the Kerid Crater, a volcanic crater that, in the summer, is a bright blue lake. In the winter however, it is a large divot in the earth’s crust covered with snow. Of all the sites we saw that day, this was the least impressive. I even posed in front of it for a photo but wondering why. It’s like posing in front of an empty bowl. (I have no doubt that it is better in the summer.)

Despite my ambivalence about seeing the creator, I absolutely loved getting out of the vehicle. This was the first time that we were truly confronted with winter. It was windy and snow was blowing and deep and crunchy and I had the distinct feeling that if I were left outside, I would perish. It felt very exciting. It’s difficult to capture the conditions in a photo, except that many of my attempted selfies ended up looking like this:

Back in the bus, the next stop was the Geyser. (Technically, I understand that it was the smaller geyser that we saw, called Strokkur, as the larger Geyser is no longer active.) We walked from the bus across the snowy landscape to a flat area, which was still snowy, but with crevices in the earth out of which warm water bubbled. We gathered around the geyser and waited for the eruptions. It was actually pretty impressive, as it shot into the air and enveloped us in a cloud of steam.

Strokker in action

From there, we went to the massive Gullfoss Waterfall. This was a pretty site but very unpleasant to visit. The wind was so strong that I had to lean into it and push forward with all my might to stay standing. Ice shards like tiny knives bit into my face. None of us spent much time outside. We got a quick look at the waterfall, snapped some pictures and hurried back to the bus. It was fun to really experience (albeit just for a few moments) the power of winter.

The next stop was my favourite: Thingvellir National Park. We walked from the bus on a path that led us to a corridor of sorts, with natural rock walls and trees. In the middle was hard snowy ledges and a frozen river and waterfall. It was unreal in its beauty. It one of the prettiest things I’ve seen anywhere. It did not seem real and was pure magic.

I asked a woman to take my picture. Me in my 100^th country.

At this point, I wandered off in a different direction from my group. I do not advise this. I was so enamoured with the snow that I began trudging through a deep, untouched trough of snow with the high rock walls on either side. I loved the silence and the beauty of it. …but the path didn’t go anywhere and at some point I realized I had to go back – and fast – as the bus would leave soon. I speed walked (as best I could) through the snow and past the icy river, not even bothering to stop at the place where the European continent meets the North American continent and made it to the bus as the final one to board.

*Me before I realized I was kind of lost*

Our final stop was at a hot spring. It was supposed to be at the Blue Lagoon, but a volcano had erupted nearby in the previous few days and the lagoon was closed on a lava alert. We went instead to Hvammsvik Hot Springs, a newly opened hot spring on the edge of the sea.

When we got there, it was again dark. We entered the small but stylish facility and were given wrist bands. These would open our lockers and allow us to order drinks from the bar whilst in the water. In the change room, we were to change into our swimwear and shower before entering. I am thoroughly uncomfortable with public nudity, but when in Iceland…I showered quickly changed into my swimsuit.

*View from the hot springs (with the brightness enhanced so something would be visible in the photo)*

The short walk from the change room to the pool was bracing. I had the impulse to run, but the good sense not to, as the path was slick with ice. In the water, all discomforts were gone. It was so pleasant. I’m not one for hot tubs or group bathing, but this was lovely. It was dark and warm and, in the distance, the snowy hills and frigid sea created a surreal backdrop. This was the first time on the trip that I really chatted with anyone. It was nice to get to know some of the people; particularly a father and son traveling together after the loss of their wife/mother. After we left the pool and dressed, we shared a meal in the restaurant. It was nice how in the serene environment of the springs we all opened up and shared our stories.

On the long drive back to Reykjavik there was a bit of chatter and then silence as we all gazed out into the night.

I got back to my hostel in the evening, but early enough to go out. I went out to a cocktail bar and got a drink and sat outside and had a cigar. There were a lot of stylish and cool bars open and packed with local people out in groups, dressed smartly, and bar hopping. I sat outside with my cigar and my perpetually icy drink watching the scene and reflecting on the snowy wonderland I had been in.

It was a thoroughly satisfying day. The next day would be Christmas Eve, and I had a bit more of Reykjavik to see and a magical tour of magical creatures.

Europe Iceland

Reykjavik in December

I knew I would go to Iceland eventually, but it was not a place I was excited to go. People seemed so enthusiastic about it, and I never understood why. It is a mostly outdoorsy place, and I am a mostly indoorsy person. It does look beautiful, but I thought, “What, I’m going to go to Iceland to look at a green, treeless expanse? And then what?” But the eventuality came about in December as I decided to go away for four days over Christmas and Iceland was the best option.

Practicalities

A few practicalities: Reykjavik is a surprisingly short flight from Vancouver; about 7 hours direct. Vancouver is so far away from most other countries than anything less than 9 hours seems short. There were no visa requirements places on my Canadian passport. Iceland is an easy place to visit. Credit cards are accepted widely so you don’t really need cash (which is a bit of a shame as their currency – Icelandic króna – is beautiful. While the national language is Icelandic, most people (at least in Reykjavik) speak English as well. The buses are easy to navigate and there is a good tourist infrastructure.

Iceland may be easy to visit, but it is not cheap. While there are some cheaper options farther away from the centre of Reykjavik, I wanted to be central and paid about $150 CDN/night for a prison style bunkbed at the Kex Hostel. (The Kex Hostel is nice and cozy, but it is expensive, and the rooms are basic. I.e. no curtains on the bunks and no clever amenities). Food was also super expensive. Like a drip coffee at a café was about $7 CDN and a terrible pre-made sandwich from a supermarket was about $20 CDN. It’s doable, but I was definitely glad that I brought protein bars with me.

I can’t say that I went to Iceland for Christmas and not mention the weather. Of course it was cold, but not prohibitively cold in Reykjavik when I was there. No colder than -10C. I didn’t need special clothes; I just wore my usual Vancouver winter clothes but with an extra layer. I did arrive without a toque however – like a fool, I brought only a jaunty beret and that was a mistake. I bought a woolly toque on my first day to keep my head from freezing. Oh, and I brought a bunch of those chemical hand warmer things, which was a good thing.

Exploring Reykjavik

I arrived in Reykjavik at 6am after a red-eye flight from Vancouver. On the way, my seat mate nudged me awake to see the northern lights. Subtly green, but they were there. It would, unfortunately, be the only time I saw them on my trip to Iceland, as it was cloudy the whole time.

I went straight to my hostel and dropped off my bag and went off to explore. It was dark. It was dark most of the time I was there because, well, it was at the time of the year when the days are shortest. The sun rose at about 11:20am and set again at 3:30pm; barely peeking above the horizon. This meant that most of my sightseeing was in the dark, which is definitely a different experience. I live in Vancouver, and I wake up at 4am, so going out before the sun is up is a familiar experience, but not for sightseeing, and I had never experienced such few hours of daylight each day. It was weird. It was unsettling. I loved it. It made everything feel special. It was, in fact, one of many of the things that I loved about Iceland.

Good morning, Reykjavik!

I walked the dark streets. There were patches of crunchy snow, which made everything feel brighter. It was December 22^nd, so the buildings were decorated with tasteful strings of Christmas lights. The first thing I noticed (apart from the darkness and cold) was that the buildings are a distinctive style: two-story, colourful buildings with pointy roofs and corrugated metal exterior walls painted bright colours. A pleasing aesthetic like that in Greenland and Newfoundland.

I stopped at the locally popular Braud & Co., which was just opened, and bought a fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon roll; part sweet treat and part handwarmer.

*my favourite of Reykjavik’s street art murals*

more street art

I took in several intriguing street murals and found my way to the intersection of Reykjavik’s two most famous sights: The Hallgrimskirkja and Rainbow Street. The Hallgrimskirkja is a Lutheran church built in 1937 in a striking style design to resemble Iceland’s mountains and glaciers. If you’ve ever googled Reykjavik, you’ve seen it. It is impressive. At night it is imposing and illuminated. By day light it is stark and pristine. There’s nothing exciting about the interior, but the view from the lookout, which I returned to do at daylight, is spectacular.

Rainbow Street (really Skólavörðustígur) is a main commercial and Instagram-famous street that starts, or ends, at the square in front of the Hallgrimskirkja. I walked down the street and popped into the Café Babalú for a coffee and to warm up.

*me on Rainbow Street after the sun was up*

While I loved the magic of Iceland in the winter, the downside is that I needed to patronize frequently cafes for warmth and rest. In the summer, you might take a break from your walking by sitting outdoors on a bench for free, but in the winter, you want to be inside and inside costs money. Those expensive café visits really add up. Nevertheless, Café Babalú was charming and oh so cozy; filled with cute and nostalgic bric-a-brac.

I walked and wandered until the contemporary art museum opened: the Reykjavík Art Museum Hafnarhús. Admission was about $25CDN and worth every penny. It was an excellent and not overly large modern art museum in a curious building that looks like an origami-folded newspaper.

When I exited the museum, the sun had risen and Reykjavik was revealed. I had to retrace my steps to see all the same buildings and murals by day. The real highlight was that I could see the ocean. Reykjavik is right on the coast and many of the streets appear to disappear right into icy blue water. In the distance…an island? A chunk of ice? A glacier? It looked different to anything I had seen.

I walked to the Reykjavík Art Museum Kjarvalsstaðir, which was included with my ticket to the first one. Another good museum, and the walk was stunning.

I continued my walk to the Asmundur Sveinsson Sculpture Museum, also included with my ticket I bought to the first museum. Here’s the thing, I actually did not like any of the sculptures inside this museum (with apologies to Ásmundur Sveinsson), but one of the ones outside were interesting, set against the snow, but the real draw was the building itself, which is just very cool. It was designed by Sveinsson and was his home and studio prior.

By the time I walked back to central back to central Reykjavik, it was dark again and I was feeling pleased. Reykjavik is small and I had seen much of what I wanted to see, but fortunately I had more time to explore, because there was more terrific stuff ahead.

Smoking Cigars in Reykjavik

On that first night, I found a place to smoke a cigar before I bunked down in my hostel.

Smoking in Reykjavik is banned everywhere indoors. I chatted with the proprietor of a cigar store there and they confirmed this. Not even a secret cigar lounge, but smoking is allowed on patios – Hooray! But it was winter and very cold, and most patios were not open. It seems that not a lot of people smoke, so they didn’t have the whole heated patio, cozy blanket set up. Fortunately, I found a café / bookstore / live music venue on Laugavegur street: Hús máls og menningar. It is a cool place inside, but outside, they have a small wooden patio, slightly sheltered and with a heater. I hunkered down there and had a Quai D’Orsay with a negroni. When my cigar smoking hand started to freeze, I switched hands. Totally worth it.

me with a cigar, braving the cold

My first day in Reykjavik was a success, I thought as I snuggled under heavy blankets in my hostel bunkbed. But the best was yet to come. The next day I would leave the comforts of Reykjavik for a day trip into the countryside.

Balkans Trip 2023 Europe Montenegro

In Defence of Podgorica

Podgorica is often referred to as ‘Europe’s most boring capital city.’ It is either dismissed or reviled. (For the latter stance, I recommend this blog post, which is too harsh, but it is a fun read.) So why did I voluntarily spend two days there? I shall explain and also justify why Podgorica is actually ok.

A bit about Podgorica and why I was there

Podgorica was at the end of my Balkans trip. I had started in Ljubljana, gone to Lake Bled, Zagreb, Sarajevo, Mostar, and then Podgorica, from where I would fly home to Vancouver. My plan, when I booked the trip, was to use my time in Podgorica as a base from which to visit coastal and medieval Kotor. But then I arrived in Podgorica and the thought of getting on another bus and traveling in a long day trip AND the thought of visiting somewhere else precious and picturesque just did not appeal. All the places I had been were so busy with tourists and many of them were so precious, that I just found if off putting. I just wanted to do something more normal and unexciting. Podgorica fill the bill.

The thing about Podgorica is that it was decimated in World War Two. Here and there you can see slivers of history. There are a few blocks of old cobblestones and the barest of ruins of a castle, a clock tower, and a stone footbridge. Other than that, everything is after the war and it’s not great. There are even far better cities for Soviet modernist architecture. There are no impressive museums, no ornate churches, no notable street art scene, no wonderful parks. Everything it has is fine.

I arrived in Podgorica by bus from Sarajevo. A stunning journey, scenery-wise. I was deposited at the bus station and walked to my hotel: the Hotel Marienplatz. Perhaps not surprisingly at this point, there are no charming or cool accommodations in Podgorica; at least not that I could find. I picked my hotel because it was central, not too expensive, and looked conformable. After ten days of dorms bed, I was ready for a little comfort. The Marienplatz was on a pedestrian street lined with restaurants and bars and, at night, is absolutely throbbing with music. Fine. I can sleep through anything.

I dropped of my stuff at the hotel and hit the streets. I spent a day and a half (two nights) in Podgorica. Here is what I did…

The streets around my hotel

Laziness Along the River

There is a river that runs through the centre of the city. It is fairly shallow and not that wide and has high, steep edges. Various bridges run across and there is a park on either side. From the bridges you can see people swimming and kayaking in the river. If you were so inclined, you could join them. I was not so inclined, so I wandered around the ruins of the castle and took a picture of some small murals at the foot of a bridge and had a drink at the cutest little tiki bar in the park by the river.

This tiki bar is so cute; just a little tiki shack in the park with a handful of seats – a couple of them are swings. I sat and had a drink and chatted with the bartender and a young guy celebrating his early 20s birthday. We talked about our lives and about how Montenegro has a reputation for laziness – a stereotype the Montenegrins seem to have embraced. During the time I was there, the annual ‘Laziest Man’ completion was ongoing; an event in which men compete to see who can lie down the longest. The bartender spoke about how he had always been a bartender and the young man, who was going to school in Germany, said he aspired to move to Brazil because they seem to not work that hard. Fascinating.

Near the river is a hotel, the Hotel Podgorica notable for its modernist design by architect Svetlana Kana Radević. I went and had a cigar on the very excellent patio overlooking the river.

High Five

I walked to Blok Five, which is a group of high-rise apartment buildings, now at least party abandoned. They were designed and built in the 1970s/80s with the goal of creating a perfect community that emphasized community involvement and communal living. The buildings are worth a visit if you like that kind of architecture or if you like creepy feeling abandoned places, or graffiti. I like all three.

Under the Bridge

I visited a lot of cafes, the best of which was the Itaka Library Bar, which is just under a bridge, by the river. On one side f the structure is a small bookstore (all in languages other than English) and on the other side is a café/bar with some indoor seating, but the real pleasure, was sitting outside, under the bridge and next to a small riverside patch of green. I went there twice and loved it. Great spot to smoke cigars.

Cigars in Podgorica

There are a few cigars stores in Podgorica. None were cheap, but all had good selections. There were no dedicated cigar lounges, but smoking was allowed on every patio. I smoked a ton of cigars during my time in there.

Art

There is an art gallery/museum. Local artists and a few historic relics. Really it is shocking that for a capital city – that this tiny museum is the best they came up with – but it was interesting, and it was free, so I am not complaining. As mentioned previously, there are some murals/street art in Podgorica, but nothing amazing or worth specifically seeking out.

A Glimpse of the Past

There is a small (pocket-sized) historical neighbourhood that someone survived the war and there are a few streets with cobblestones and cute houses with grapes growing. On the edge of the neighbourhood is a clock tower that is the oldest surviving thing in Podgorica and it is…honestly, it is not that interesting, but if you are there, you may as well seek it out.

Two Churches

I walked to the (Catholic) Church of the Holy Heart of Jesus, which is interesting in that it is such a severe concrete, brutalist structure. The walk there is not at all pleasant, as it is just along stretches of highway, but if you are into weird, brutalist structures, as I am, it is worth the walk.

I walked to the beautiful Orthodox Temple of Christ’s Resurrection, which was stunning inside and out – and the walk there was lovely, just across the river and past the tiki bar. I bought a trinket at the church shop and chatted with the woman working there. She seemed genuinely thankful and surprised that I was visiting Podgorica.

Podgorica after Dark

In the evenings I stayed on and around the pedestrian street where my hotel was. During the day the streets was quiet and pleasant but at night….wow. It was like an actual party. Every single bar and restaurant was packed. There was live music and karaoke and DJs playing impossibly loud music. The women were so dressed up. Tiny sequined dressed, skin-tight body suits, stiletto heels, cleavage, fully made-up faces and gorgeous. Men were there too. I asked at the hotel if there was something special going on, but they said, no; on the weekends, locals just like to dress up and go out. After a lot of searching, I found a place on a patio and had a cigar and watched the parade.

Is Podgorica worth visiting?

I did all of this in a day and a half. I walked a lot, exploring to seek out other things of note, but there was not much else worth mentioning. The nice thing was that I got to sight-see at a leisurely pace. Normally I am moving around at such a fast pace; this was a relaxing change.

Podgorica was warm and sunny. It was quiet. There was birdsong and coffee, time for luxuriating on patios, and just being present. There was no reason to rush anywhere to see things because there was not that much to see. What there was to see was interesting and attractive enough. I had a great time. Would I recommend visiting Podgorica? No. Not at all (unless you are on a quest to visit every capital city in Europe), but if you are there, or if you have the opportunity for a long layover, there is enough to see to make it worthwhile. It might be ‘the most boring capital city in Europe’ but still has redeeming qualities and was a nice way to end my Balkans trip.

Balkans Trip 2023 Bosnia and Herzegovina Europe Montenegro

Bus from Sarjevo to Podgorica

I decided to take the bus from Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina to Podgorica, Montenegro. I was flying home from Podgorica, Montenegro so I needed to get there, and the bus was the cheapest and best option. I might have flown, but none of the flights were direct or cheap. I am happy I took the bus. It was easy, cheap, and very fast. Train was not an option.

I bought my bus ticket from the bus station on the morning I was leaving. It cost about $30 CDN. It was supposed to be about a seven-hour journey, but it ended up taking less than six. The bus was a basic minibus. Comfortable, but totally full, so I was glad I arrived early enough to get a ticket. Not everyone was so lucky.

The journey was pleasant. We made two to three short stops (in Foča and Nikšić); enough to use the washroom and buy water.

The scenery was stunning. Mountain villages to bright blue lakes to steep mountain passages. I listened to music and enjoyed the journey.

At the border, we crossed at the Hum border crossing, they took our passports and stamped them. No questions. And we were in Montenegro. A new country to explore.

Sooner than expected we arrived in Podgorica, at a small, brutalist, concrete bus station. I walked to my hotel, ready to see what the capital of Montenegro had to offer.

Balkans Trip 2023 Bosnia and Herzegovina Europe

Day Trip to Mostar

Following my busy first day in Sarajevo, on my next day in Bosnia and Herzegovina I went to Mostar. I wanted to see a little bit of the countryside and also, I wasn’t going to leave the country without seeing the famous bridge. Mostar is a small city about 130 kilometres away from Sarajevo and is famous for having a beautiful Ottoman era bridge: Stari Most, which, not so creatively, means “old bridge”. This also gave me a great opportunity to take the train.

Train from Sarajevo to Mostar

To get to Mostar is easy; you can drive, take the train, or take the bus. There are lots of train and bus schedules per day and they take roughly the same amount of time. But I wanted to take the train. The first train in the morning was 7:15am so I left my hostel early and walked to the train station in Sarajevo. (I probably should have just taken a tram to the station, which would have been faster as there is a stop right there, but it was a pleasant time for a walk.) The 1949 train station is this interesting communist era functionalist structure, concrete with high ceilings and Olympic murals. And best of all, people were smoking inside. I went to the ticket office and queued up in front of a man who sold tickets and stamped papers with a demeanour that I would also describe as communist era and functionalist. It really felt like I was transported to another time.

The ticket was 22 Bosnian Marks round-trip. That’s about $16.00 Canadian.

The trip takes just under 2 hours and it is utterly delightful. The most gorgeous scenery passes: small villages, green hills, and lakes and rivers. And the seats are quite comfortable. I visited the gleaming dining car and got coffee, which was fine. (Don’t count on much in the way of snacks.)

We arrived at the train station in Mostar. From the train station, it is a short walk to the historic part of the city and the bridge. The newer part of the city is perfectly fine but not completely charming. The best thing that I saw on the way to the historic centre was a building of indeterminate former use that had fallen into disrepair and covered in graffiti.

Into the heart of Mostar

The historic centre of Mostar is what I was there to see (along with everyone else). Cobble-stoned alleys and shops, pretty buildings, restaurants, a bridge, and a river (Neretva River). The streets with shops are extremely touristy but very nice to walk. The closer you get to the bridge, the thicker the tourists get, crowding around to take perfect shots of themselves standing in front of the bridge. I can’t really blame them; it is gorgeous, and if I had been traveling with someone who wanted to take my picture maybe I would have done that too.

But before I was ready to delve into the throngs around the bridge, I wanted coffee. There are several cute little cafes perched on the cliffs high above the river that offer excellent views. I picked what appeared to be the cutest of them. It was set back just behind a little market where local vendors were selling liqueurs and honey. I went to the cafe and sat facing the bridge smoking a cigarillo, drinking Bosnian coffee and eating a Hurmašice, a Bosnian cake soaked in spice syrup.

I finished my snack and walked closer to the bridge. It was built by the Ottomans in about the 15th century, but then was destroyed during the Bosnian War in the 1990s it was finally rebuilt in the early 2000s. It’s become incredibly famous and is one of those sites that people share and pin and dream about visiting. And it is beautiful. It is a very attractive bridge in a very attractive setting. What I didn’t realize until I went there was how stunning the surroundings are. It is not really just the bridge, it’s the river and the surrounding green hills dotted by mosque minarets and charming little streets. It is absolutely lovely.

I crossed the bridge and wandered around the other side and continued poking around, but at that point I was kind of done. I came to see the bridge and to wander around and I did that. I had no desire to spend more time. It was just so busy with tourists, and I can’t blame them (I am also a tourist), but I also didn’t want to be stuck in their crowds any longer. My train to return to Sarajevo was supposed to leave at about 3:00pm, but I didn’t feel like staying that long, so I stopped and had a final lunch overlooking the bridge, where I watched people preparing to dive off it into the river below, and then I found a bus station.

*Lunch with a view. There was nothing vegetarian on the menu, so they made me a plate of delicious roasted veggies.*

Busing back to Sarajevo

There are numerous buses a day that go in between Mostar in Sarajevo I picked one that was leaving at about 1:00pm and bought a ticket. I don’t remember how much it was, but it was cheap. The views were just as lovely as the train trip had been. And I was back in Sarajevo by about 3:00pm, which gave me the opportunity to spend the rest of the day enjoying more of that city. I’ve written about that in the previous post here. Was Mostar worth visiting? Absolutely. Not just for the destination but also for the wonderful train ride to get there, but I didn’t need to spend more than a few hours there. I’d rather spend my time in Sarajevo than gazing at bridges and fighting crowds. Plus, this was my final full day in Bosnia and Herzegovina. The next day I was going to bus to Montenegro.

Category: Europe

How I planned my trip to Barcelona, Andorra, Vilnius, Riga, & Stockholm

Taylor Swift and the price of Hostels

Practicalities

Exploring Reykjavik

Smoking Cigars in Reykjavik

A bit about Podgorica and why I was there

Laziness Along the River

High Five

Under the Bridge

Cigars in Podgorica

Art

A Glimpse of the Past

Two Churches

Podgorica after Dark

Is Podgorica worth visiting?

Train from Sarajevo to Mostar

Into the heart of Mostar

Busing back to Sarajevo