Europe Archives - Page 7 of 15

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An Afternoon in London, Or ‘How Solo Travel Has Made Me A Bit Of A Jerk’

Scotland wasn’t on my travel list. It looked lovely, but these days I crave destinations that are more far-flung and a little dangerous maybe. I can’t stand it when I tell people where I am going and they have their own suggestions. “Oh you must go to this restaurant.” Et cetera. Scotland was one of those destinations. Plus, as of writing, it isn’t an independent country, so I don’t even get the satisfaction of going to a new country. Not that that is the reason I travel, but I do like lists.

So when I said to my mother, “Would you like to take another international trip with me?” and she said “Scotland” I was fine with it, but not excited. I stifled the urge to say something like, “What about Algeria? Or Bangladesh?” Instead I got to planning.

Scotland actually has a lot of charming places, green walks, and oodles of castles. It is historic and picturesque. Choosing the right places for a 9 day trip was tough. In the end we didn’t want to spend too much time traveling all over the country, so I just picked a few destinations: a day’s layover in London, a few days in Edinburgh, a day or two in Wigtown, to Stirling, and a day trip to Glasgow.

My mum and I hadn’t traveled together since we went to Peru about 4 years prior and I hadn’t traveled with anyone since. I’m not going to lie: traveling with someone is more difficult for me than traveling solo. There are discussions. Constant discussions. Discussions about where and when to eat, where to walk, when to stop, which train to take, et cetera. Mercifully, my mother pretty much defers to what I want to do, but out of the need to be (or to appear to be) considerate, there are discussions that must be had.

The first of those discussions happened when we had our layover in London. I’ve been to London. I lived there. But Luba (my mother) had not, so I was excited to show her around the places I used to work and hang out.

I planned a walk around some of the main sights. We got a bit into the walk, though St. James Park, past Buckingham Palace, down the Mall, through Trafalgar Square, to Covent Garden and Soho, and there were plans for more, but we ran out of steam. She hadn’t slept on the plane (a red eye flight from Vancouver) and, while I had, I was tired and cranky. Then it started to rain.

Weirdly happy to see these phone box sex adverts are still a thing.
I remember them from the 90s – back when people still used pay phones

We went to a cute little patisserie in Soho, unable to agree where to go next. If I were alone, I would have kept walking, ceaselessly, until it was time to go to the airport, but Luba wasn’t up for that. Neither of us wanted to go back to the airport early, and the rain didn’t want us to sit in a park or on a patio. Day one and we were on the verge of a quarrel. This does not happen when you travel alone.

But then the perfect solution struck me. What is my solace and comfort? My favorite way to pass a quiet and contemplative time? Cigars. I said, “Well, we could walk over to St. James Street and go to the Dunhill cigar lounge. I could smoke and you could read.” Success! We were both happy. As we walked there the clouds parted. I had an extraordinary limited edition Bolivar and Luba read her book.

Both restored, we went for a bit of a circuitous stroll before going back to the airport.

In the end, we didn’t stick to my plan and cover all of the ground in London that I would have had I been alone, but I got to show my mother a bit of London and we ended up having a nice afternoon.

Solo travel has taught me a lot: how to be strong and self-reliant, how to be content with my own company, how to meet people, and how to constantly step out of my comfort zone. But solo travel has also made me a bit selfish, resistant to compromise, and bossy. I want to do what I want to do. I’m not proud of those things, but I am pleased that I can set them aside (more or less) to still enjoy traveling with my mum.

We went back to the airport and took a short and sleepy flight to Edinburgh.

Europe Liechtenstein Switzerland Tunisia Trip 2018

Liechtenstein

On my last full day in Zürich, I decided to go to Liechtenstein. Why? Because it is there. A friend of mine, a real opinionated smarty pants, had scoffed at my plan to go to Vaduz, Liechtenstein. He had been there, maybe 10 or 20 years prior, and said “Don’t waste your time. you’ll regret it. There’s NOTHING there.” Of course, I didn’t care if there was anything there worth seeing or not; I had to go. It is a new country, a mere train ride away. I couldn’t resist.

To get from Zürich to Vaduz (capital city), Liechtenstein, you take a train and a bus. I’ll explain briefly, as it wasn’t totally obvious. At the man train station, on the day of (or before if you’re nervous) book a roundtrip ticket from Zürich HB to Vaduz, Post. You can also buy it from an agent in the kiosk. The train will take you to Sargans, just on the Swiss side of the border, and from there you take a bus. It is about 1 hour to Sargans and the scenery is stunning. At the station in Sargans, the bus loop will be obvious. Take bus 11 to Vaduz, Post. The trip will be about 30 minutes and all of the stops are listed on a monitor on the bus. It could not be easier.

The journey was terrific. The scenery was magnificent. Past a shining lake and velvety green farms and gentle hills, tiny villages with castles or churches perched just above them on the highest hill, and, increasingly, snowy mountain ranges. I took pictures, as best I could, through the train window.

In Vaduz, the bus stops just steps from the man drag, which is really all there is to see. It’s not much, but perfectly adequate for an afternoon. There is a church, a few different museums, cafes and restaurants, and an occupied castle looming above. Liechtenstein is some kind of “democratic monarchy”, which I think is another way of saying oxymoron.

I only visited one museum, the modern art museum, which i recommend, if you like that sort of thing. I took my pictures, slowly ate a raspberry tart and smoked a cigar in the warm spring sun (trying to protect my eyes from the group of men in spandex cycling attire at the table next to me. Blech.), and paid €3 to have my passport stamped at the info booth.

A few hours and I was satisfied. I think if one was keen to experience more of Liechtenstein, it might be nice to go to some other towns that look a bit more quaint, but my time was running short, and I had accomplished what I set out to do. It was a lovely day. (In your face, know-it-all friend.)

Back to Zürich, I walked around more, for no particular reason, except that the weather was perfect, and all of these little neighborhood joints started to open up and they all looked so appealing. I stopped and had a bowl of soup at one, and a glass of wine and a cigar at another. I finished the evening on a pedestrian street near my air bnb, outside of an Italian restaurant which was closed, but had left their outdoor tables and chairs out. I had a cigar and watched local residents go about their Sunday evening business.

It was a great end to my trip.

This morning I awoke and had breakfast with my airbnb hosts, who insisted on making me breakfast: muesli with apples and yogurt, tiny cups of strong coffee and squares of dark chocolate.

And then I was off to the airport.

Currently flying to Vancouver. The woman ahead of me has reclined her seat all the way and keeps stretching her fat arms over her head and reaching back and grabbing the top of the back of her chair, blocking my tv. If she keeps this up, I may lick her hand.

It has been a great trip: Tunisia, with a dash of Switzerland, and a pinch of France and Liechtenstein. Thoroughly satisfying. Not happy to be going home. Never happy to be going home, but at least I get to plan a new trip.

Africa Europe France Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

8 hours in Lyon

It makes absolutely no sense. I wanted to fly from Montasir (the airport near Sousse, Tunisia to Djerba, Tunisia. The flight should have taken an hour. Maybe. The buses were too slow and the train doesn’t go to the island of Djerba, so I was set on flying and doing so today. Well, the only flight that came up in multiple searches was a flight from Montasit, to Lyon, France, and to Djerba. It seemed ludicrous…but the flight did offer an 8 hour layover in Lyon. That was appealing. I haven’t been to France in years and never to Lyon. So I booked it.

When I arrived at the airport for my 6:30am flight, the guys at check in thought it was crazy. One even offere

d to put me on a flight that connected in Tunis, but I declined. I was already looking forward to a coffee in the old city.

An 8 hour layover doesn’t mean 8 hours of walking around Lyon. It means 5 hours max. There are a few tricks to these just-long-enough-to-leave-the-airport layovers. I try to check in for both flights at the beginning and check my bag through to the end, so I’m not messing around with bag collection and checking in. That wasn’t possible for this flight, so I took my bag as a carry on and left it in the luggage storage at the train station. I also study ahead of time. If you’ve only got a half day, there isn’t time to figure out when you are there what you want to see or do. So I do my homework and determine what areas I want to visit and what I want to see and how I am going to get around. If I can (as I did in Lyon), I buy my transit tickets online ahead of time and I get foreign currency before landing so I don’t have to waste time in queues. And most importantly, I study maps intently. Like I am planning a bank job. I want to know, as much as possible, what exit to take from the metro and which bridge to walk across and what street to turn left on when I get to the other side. This satisfies both my desire to make good use of my short layover and my fondness for maps.

It all worked well today. I probably could have even spent another hour in the city but I didn’t want to risk missing my plane.

I took the express airport train and then the metro to Vieux Lyon; the old city…and also the most touristy, but it is popular with visitors for a reason. The streets are so charming, with old buildings hung with old signs, narrow lanes lined with cheese shops and quaint cafés, patisseries, and churches.

And overlooking it all is a cathedral on a hill.

I walked up and down the streets, stopping for a coffee and a pink praline tart – apparently Lyonnaise specialty. So good and disgustingly sweet.

I walked down the river for a bit, photographing churches and buildings.

Back on to the Rue Ste Jean, looking for number 53 or 54 and for a plain door, which would lead to one of the many traboules – hidden passages which lead between buildings to other streets and also to private residences. There are apparently 315 of them, but only a few are accessible or known to the public. According to the good book (Lonely Planet) some of them date to Roman times and the rest were in the 19th century. It was indeed a long passage, in some places providing access to apartments. Who doesn’t love secret passages? If only i had to pull a candlestick to gain access.

I then took the funicular up to the Basilica Notre Dame de Fourvière, which is a beautiful 19th century cathedral overlooking the city. There were priests wandering around, as well as worshippers, but they were outnumbered by tourists, so I was able to take pictures.

I then walked to Place Bellecour and took the train to Hotel de Ville to see some of the fancy buildings in that area.

At that point i headed back to the airport. I probably could have spent another hour, but I didn’t want to be rushing to catch my flight. I saw what I wanted to see, had an afternoon in France, and was on my way back to Tunisia.

Europe Switzerland Tunisia Trip 2018

Lucerne

I awoke on day two in Switzerland to grey skies. I had a coffee and picked up some breakfast from my favorite eatery in Zurich – the local supermarket. (It’s preferable to spending a small fortune on coffee and breakfast.) Made a bee-line to the train station and caught a morning train to Lucerne. It was scheduled to leave at 4mins past the hour and at exactly that time, it started to roll. About 45 minutes later we arrived in Lucerne with Swiss precision.

I think I did the right thing by not going to Lucerne on a weekend, when it is teeming with tourists I am told. Things weren’t too busy on a Monday morning and i managed to get ahead of the one bus group I spied. To be fair to the tourists, it wasn’t like i was there to do research; we were all walking around photographing the same buildings. I’m just happier doing it away from other people.

The draw for Lucerne is that it is a charming town, easily walkable, with a number of old, decorative buildings, and a notable covered bridge. It is a perfect day trip from Zurich.

The day started out cold and grey, but finished up cold and sunny. Regardless, I Loved wandering the town. Every turn revealed some beautifully painted building, ornate fountain, or church square. There was one church in particular that had these huge, carved, wooden doors, one of which opened slowly when i approached it…but there was no one on the other side. “(The holy) ghosts!” I thought, but i watched as a couple walked in about 5 minutes after me and the door opened for them too, so I figured it was an automatic thing, which made more sense. Still though, it’s a creepy feature; like a petty miracle to convince non-believers to sign up. God saw you coming and he says, Come in.

There were no hi-jinx or misadventures; it was just lovely. I walked a million steps and then climbed up a bunch of stairs to get a better look at some ramparts (they don’t merit close inspection, as it turns out, but the walk was nice).

I had lunch from the supermarket. (Was going to splurge on daal and rice but couldn’t justify the expense). More walking until i felt like i had visited every historical sight in the city, at which point i trained back to Zurich.

I chilled at my abode for a couple hours and had coffee with my host. We discussed, amongst other things how expensive Zurich is (including its health care apparently, which surprised me) and how much we hate the current administration of the U.S.

In the evening i went to another cigar lounge – Manuel’s. it was very busy with business type men. I loved the room and the cigar selection but did’t find it as friendly as the lounge from the previous night. Still, sitting in a cigar-smoking room without judgment (and, in this case, also enjoying a coffee martini) is a rare treat.

The next day i was supposed to fly to Tunis in the morning but my flight was delayed until the evening, so i had a bonus day. I really wanted to go to to this medical museum where they have wax figures showing various diseases (it looks awesome) but it is only open Wednesdays and Fridays, so i walked all the banks of the centre of town (which lies along two rivers and with a lake at the end), enjoying the sun.

I went to the museum, which is small enough to be manageable and has some good exhibits, but is terribly organized. I had to ask for directions multiple times after the second floor completely disappeared.

Finally i had a cigar on the Bahnofstrasse in the sun and people watched until it was time for my train to the airport. (Again, i didn’t want to spend $30 on a sandwich and coffee.) I was particularly baffled how the people in Zurich really don’t dress any differently from the people in Vancouver, but they look so much better. Better jeans? Nicer sneakers? Or maybe it is because they are all thin – probably because they can’t afford to eat much.

On to Tunis.

Europe Switzerland Tunisia Trip 2018

Zurich

Zürich is one of those places that I never had any interest in. Or it’s not that I was disinterested; I just didn’t give it much thought. I figured Switzerland would be lovely but not life-changing. It seemed like a perfect place to spend a couple of days en route to Tunisia. A couple days of charming Cobble-stoned streets, pan au chocolat, and ornate churches before the real vacation begins. Plus, it’s a chance to go somewhere new.

As I write this I am in a smokey cigar room in Zürich (Manuel’s) smoking an H.Upmann magnum 50 and surrounded by men smoking, drinking, and conversing in German. I know it is an unpopular opinion, but I find German to be a very…appealing sounding language. I am happy.

I arrived yesterday morning. Early. Having flown from Vancouver I slept only a couple hours on the plane and only a couple the night before. I was somewhat delirious, but delighted. Zürich was -is- lovely. Pretty, decorative buildings, cute storefronts, calm squares, and rows of enticing cafés. The sun was out. I had taken the train from the airport and emerged in the light at the end of the Bahnhofstrasse – the main thoroughfare through the old town. My first sight was a Davidoff cigar store and lounge. I had chosen my destination wisely.

The hotels and even the hostels were all too expensive, so I opted for an Airbnb, at an apartment shared with its owner in the middle of the old town. I met my host by accident on the street near his building. A nice fellow, he showed me my accommodations, which were more that adequate. Certain friends of mine were certain he would murder me, as his Airbnb listing had no reviews and after i booked it he deleted the listing. Nearly 48 hours later and i am still alive.

After getting settled, i set off to explore the old city. It is exactly what one would expect. Very pretty and great for walking. The wide streets give way to winding pedestrian alleys, lined with antique shops, clothiers, watch shops. Eventually one inevitably finds their way to the river (the Limmet ) which winds through the city, various narrow bridges linking the sides, swans gliding underneath. The sun was shining and , although the city was extremely quiet, there were people out strolling and riding bikes, drinking coffee and smoking cigarettes along the banks.

I walked for hours, stopping for the odd coffee, stopping to visit churches and squares. Finally, i stopped for lunch at Haus Hitl, apparently the oldest vegetarian restaurant in the world. (Very good, but too many choices for me.)

I then walked back across the river to visit the Kunsthaus, an art museum. It was good. I recommend it. The problem was, at that point I was severely exhausted. I refuse to nap when arriving half way around the world. It is important to commit to the local schedule to combat lingering jet lag. But i was suffering. I had, about an hour, earlier nodded off over a coffee at the Café Voltaire. At the Kunsthaus I literally started to fall asleep on my feet several times and then dozed on a bench while gazing at a Kandinsky. It was rough.

I revived myself at the Hotel Storchen, where they have a perfect cigar lounge. Cozy, well stocked and staffed, with medieval stained glass windows and jazz music. I smoked a Bolivar and chatted with a man formerly of Canada, now a citizen of the world. I walked back to my abode in the dark and collapsed with exhaustion.

A couple of observations. Zurich is small and quiet. A day or two would be sufficient to take in its sights. Stores (ALL stores) close on Sunday by law. No supermarkets, pharmacies, convenience stores…nothing. Just bars, cafes, restaurants, and churches are open. Prostitution is legal. I haven’t seen a single beggar or homeless person (i assume they exist, but i haven’t seen any). Much more German is spoken than French. And it is super expensive. A coffee in a not fancy café averages $7, more for a cappuccino. A lentil curry at a shabby Indian restaurant is about $30. My round trip train ticket to Lucerne (45 minutes each way, in the cheap class) was $75. Other than my lunch at Haus Hitl, all my meals have been from supermarkets. An apple, piece of cheese and pretzel was $13. I’m thankful i brought some coffee and cliff bars with me. Cigars, thankfully, are the only reasonably priced item i have found.

The other saving grace is that the water here is drinkable and the city is filled with these stunning fountains from which you can fill your water bottle. So i’m hydrated, but a bit hungry. Tunisia will be a serious bargain by comparison.

Belgium Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe

In Bruges and Back to Brussels

My trip to Burkina Faso is ending the way it began: in Belgium. I returned yesterday quite late after my day layover in Istanbul. I was knackered, but i couldn’t resist taking a stroll around the square and surrounding streets, which had been decorated for Christmas since i was here two weeks ago.

It goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway: Belgium is a world away from Ouagadougou. Sidewalks, trash bins, tap water, frigid and clean air, cafes that look like cafes, people that don’t pay a bit of attention to me. I love the noise and excitement of Burkina Faso, but right now i am really appreciating the more familiar environment of western Europe, partly because i got to have a very long, very hot shower.

This morning i woke up very early and caught a train to Bruges. An hour and a half past quaint rural areas and small towns. From the station in Bruges it is a short walk to the Market Square. The square is beautiful, like so many European squares, ringed with narrow, pointy buildings in bright colours, housing inviting eateries and tea houses, imposing and intricate state buildings and throngs of picture snapping visitors.

But this was a but different because the square was filled with a Christmas market. An ice rink, decorations, and wooden booths hung with icicle lights selling food and knick knacks.

I wandered around the area, and over to the equally beautiful Berg square where i visited a beautiful and thankfully warm church.

I then followed the canals, stopping for breakfast at the most charming tiny cafe, all aglow in candles and Christmas.

I walked around aimlessly down the picturesque cobbled streets, stopping to take a million pictures. Locals walked dogs and rode bicycles. Tourists consulted maps and gazed upward.

I visited the estate housing the small but very pretty Jerusalem church, where the ticket seller thought i was under 26 and tried to sell me a discounted ticket. (I think it was the hat.)

In the church was a tiny little room with candles and relics where people had placed pictures of people for whom they prayed, i assume. I don’t pray of course, but i happened to have a tiny picture of me in my wallet (i take one when i travel because sometimes you need them for getting visas at the border). I placed it there amongst the others, singeing the corners to make it look old and worn. So if you visit that church you might see my face looking pious and prayed for.
I stopped in at an inviting looking tavern for a bowl of turnip soup and discovered that it is apparently the oldest tavern in the world, being over 500 years old. It was charming and the soup exactly what i needed.

Another square had more booths and decorations and the most amazing carousel i have ever seen – sort of a steam punk miracle of creatures/machine hybrids flying and crawling as it whirled. Unfairly, it was limited to kids 12 and under.

I walked and sipped hot chocolate until i could no longer tolerate the crowds.

I leave for Vancouver, via London, tomorrow afternoon; sad because i wish i could stay in Europe or take off somewhere exotic. Instead i will head home to email, work, and plans for the next trip.

Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe Turkey

13 hours in Istanbul

I said good bye to Burkina Faso and flew to Istanbul, arriving at about 7:00 am and having a 13 hour layover. This was perfect. I love Istanbul, but had not been there since my 2009 Turkey trip. I paid for a visa and passed swiftly through immigration. Then i was on the Metro. I switched to the tram and about an hour and a half after landing i was in Sultanahmet, gazing on the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sophia.

The city looked in many ways as i remembered, and the basic layout was easy to navigate. I wandered around and found myself on a street that looked like a cleaned up version of the street on which i spent every evening seven years ago, smoking shisha. There were lots of restaurants and i seated myself at the one which most appealed. During my breakfast, chatting with the waiter, i learned that this was the street i remembered, and that it had just gotten fancier. I remembered that there is a picture of me on the blog from my last trip to Istanbul, standing with a hookah in front of my regular joint. I pulled it up and the waiter called the owner over and it was the same place. It had changed a bit, but was basically the same and i had gravitated to it without knowing. This earned me free coffee in exchange for the promise to return again someday.

Istanbul is definitely cleaner and more organized that i remember. Better street signs and more tourist infrastructure. More international shops. These things detract a bit from the atmosphere, but it is still a great city. I love walking the streets past all of the super appealing shops selling scarves, lanterns, hookahs, and pottery. I love the cafes and the ubiquitous cats. And the exquisite calls to prayer that echo out over the city.

It was chilly, especially compared to Burkina Faso, but the cool air felt so refreshing.

I got lured into a lengthy Turkish coffee session with a carpet seller, which was pleasant and i managed to walk carpet-less, which is a small victory.

I then headed for the Grand Bazaar, where i became wonderfully lost amongst the stalls of crafts, handiwork, spices, and sweets. I then had mint tea with a seller of meerschaum pipes. I did not leave empty handed this time.

I finished the day off down my the Blue Mosque again, with a hookah of double apple shisha and just relaxed until i felt it was time to return to the airport.

A delightful day. I hope it is not another seven years before i return.

Belgium Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Europe

Brussels

I arrived in Brussels at 8:30 pm with my backpack and handwritten directions which were to lead me from the central train station to my hotel, but something went askew (i think a street disappeared. It couldn’t be that my directions were flawed.) so i spent the next 45 minutes making false starts and returning to station to set off again. Finally two young men unloading an art exhibit into a car (or stealing art, i can’t be sure) offered to help and pointed me in the right direction.

First impressions of Brussels. It looks properly European. Cobblestones, old churches, bicycles, men in scarves, accordion players, cigarettes, pretty buildings, and squares centred around statues of men posing nobly. The area my hotel is in (which is about a 5 minute walk from the train station, notwithstanding the 45 minutes it took me to find it) is great. It is lined with waffle shops, cafes, and chocolatiers. The streets actually smell like chocolate in spots. Plus, my hotel is also about 5 minutes from La Grand Place and walking distance to everything else.

The downside to my hotel (le hotel madeleine) is that it is almost sleazy. It’s fine, really. Clean and cheap and the staff are good, but my room is literally an old bed, a wardrobe, which i can’t open due to the proximity to the bed, and a sink. I am sharing a toilet. There is no shower or bath – not even a shared one – there just isn’t one. But there is the sink, so sponge baths it is. As a bonus, under the circumstances, it is freezing in Brussels; it was minus 1 when i arrived, so i can get away without bathing for a couple, days.

I had only two nights and a day in Brussels, so i set off that first night to get the lay of the land. I walked the streets which were busy with young people drinking, smoking, and eating sweet treats. I easily found La Grand Place, which was a glow in warm floodlights, but freezing in every other respect. The square was crammed with people posing with selfie sticks and waffle props.

I kept wandering around and finally gave in to hunger and cold and had a waffle with nutella, which was good, but i couldn’t finish it and i think it literally killed off my craving for anything sweet. There really are waffle shops everywhere. Although apparently proper waffles are served only with powdered sugar, the ones in the tourist area are piled high with whipped cream, chocolate, and fruit. I’m pretty sure you would have to be high to eat one. I have been informed that a proper waffle is 10 squares by 10 squares (someone should tell the people at eggo).

The next morning, i rose early, had a coffee, and took a stroll through a local super market, picking up a small baguette and a small round of cheese for a breakfast. I picked the cheese wanting something i didn’t recognize and something local. It turned out i picked the world’s stinkiest cheese. It was alternately amazing and gag inducing (but mostly good). Unfortunately, despite multiple hand washings, i smelled like that cheese for the rest of the day. Maybe i still do and have just been desensitized to it.

I don’t have a ton of revelations about Brussels. It’s nice. It’s Europe. The coffee is good, the architecture is pretty and impressive. The cafes are historic and beautiful. But i wasn’t in love with it. It isn’t on par with cities like Rome or Paris, Lisbon, or London. But there is enough to see. I went to the comic strip museum, which i very much enjoyed. Interesting, fun, and not too big. I learned a lot about Tin Tin and saw Smurfs represented.

I visited a Catholic church, i bought a ridiculous but adorable toque to protect myself from the cold, and i rode the subway.

The subway ride was specifically to visit Brussels’ local La Casa Del Habano (cigar shop), which was in a posh shopping area of the city where the streets were patrolled by soldiers carrying machine guns and pistols and wearing very snug camouflage trousers and jaunty berets. I half expected that at any moment they would drop their weapons and break into some sort of choreographed dance routine.

Anyway, i made it to La Casa, picked a couple of cigars from their excellent humidor and settled into the comfy smoking lounge. The lounge was busy and every time a man entered, he went around the room and shook each person’s hand and said ‘bonjour’ individually (those people who were known to him got a kiss on the cheek). I am not accustomed to this level of formal politeness. I must say though, my “bonjours” are exceptional now.

Donald Trump’s recent election victory is the #1 news story. People bring it up when when they hear me speak and assume I am American. They share my disappointment and disbelief.

In the evening, i wandered more, had dinner at a nice Thai restaurant (Belgian food is not so veg-friendly – even the frites are cooked in lard) and then i went to a bar. Not just any bar, but a goth type bar called The Coffin (en Francais). It has a cool decor that is right up my alley. Black and graffiti-ed with red or UV lighting, skeletons, bats, and coffins decorate the place and they play rock and metal music. It is almost perfect. As i walked in, dressed in my usual cold weather traveling outfit (all black with army type boots, leather jacket with metal studs, black hair and eyeliner), i felt right at home…except that the place has become something of a tourist attraction and most of the people in there had blue jeans and polar fleece jumpers or khakis and ball caps. So that was a bit disappointing, but it’s still a nifty bar. How often can you sit at a coffin and drink from a skull? Not often enough.

This morning i had coffee on the square. Cold and rainy now. Then i swiftly made it back to the airport for my flight to Casablanca. I passed the time having coffee with a lady from rural Belgium who is traveling to Morocco for a week exploring on horseback with a tour.

Right now i am on board a Royal Air Maroc flight to Casablanca. From there i will fly to Ouagadougou, but first: a 7 hour long layover in Casablanca, during which i hope i will be able to take the train into the city for a quick walk around the old medina and whatever else i have time for. But it isn’t certain. I’ll assess the situation at the airport and make sure i have enough time to get through customs and back without missing my connecting flight. Even if i don’t get to leave the airport…I’m still that much closer to Burkina Faso!
Onwards.

Ethiopia Trip 2015 Europe Germany

Addis Ababa to Frankfurt

I arrived in Frankfurt from Addis Ababa and had a brief layover – 7 hours or so – but it was long enough to leave the airport and go for a walk in the city. Frankfurt was kind of a perfect place to have such a layover. I have never been interested in going there and it lacks ‘must-see’ sights, so i could wander without feeling any pressure to do or see anything in particular. I did do some planning and determined ahead of time where the best/most scenic places would be to go (the less time in a place, the more planning required).

I passed by the disinterested customs/immigration officials and caught the easy and efficient train to central Frankfurt.

After my weeks in Ethiopia, and most recently Addis, the air felt so cool and fresh. I arrived early in the morning and it was a Monday so the streets were mostly quiet and then filled with suits off to work and a few buses of tourists, waving a plethora of selfie sticks.

The city was…nice. Attractive and clean, with some pretty, historic and very German buildings, some public art, waterways and bicycles. It wasn’t remarkable or amazing, but it was nice. Sort of like a German version of Vancouver.

I had a great coffee and bread and cheese for breakfast from a cafe on a pretty square. My first non-Ethiopian food in a while, which made it especially delicious.

The best thing about my hours in Frankfurt was that no one spoke to me unless i spoke to them first. No one said hello or smiled. No one asked me where i was from or what my name was, how old i was, if i had children, etc. I think i dealt fine with the constant barrage of attention from locals on the street in Ethiopia, and it is nice, i suppose, to have connections and interactions with strangers, but at my heart i like to walk down the street and have no one care or pretend to care. That urban, western disinterest felt so welcome and comfortable on that morning and was probably my favourite thing about Frankfurt.

Back to the airport, i flew to Vancouver, another trip concluded.

England Ethiopia Trip 2015 Europe United Kingdom

No Place Like London

When I was booking my flight to Ethiopia, i chose the one with the longest possible layover, which was through London. I had about 10 hours. Not a leisurely visit, but more than enough for a good afternoon.

I lived in London briefly from 1994-95 and loved it, but have not been back since. The idea of being back there was exciting and actually being there was awesome. In some small way i was able to tap into the excitement of young me arriving in London for the first time. I couldn’t stop smiling and i just wanted to walk around and see everything.

Of course though, i didn’t have time for everything, so i planned a strategic walk past some key sights and old haunts. I took the train to Westminster and caught a glimpse of Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, before walking up to Trafalgar Square.

I was struck by how lovely everything was and how thoroughly British everything is. Almost to the point of cliché. The architecture, monuments, flags, black cabs, red phone booths and double decker buses, chip shops, mind the gap, and every wonderful variation on the British accent you could imagine. Delightful. Trafalgar Square was teeming with people, but the inside of St Martin-in-the-Fields was serene.

The streets were busier than i remembered and there seemed to be more advertising and you can’t smoke everywhere anymore, but all of the stuff i cared about was the same. I wandered in all of the squares and parks i passed, enjoying the flowers and sculptures and meandered through the streets, enjoying the bustle.

Then, I turned down a street and was met with the Dunhill shop. For those of you who don’t smoke, it is a famous tobacconist shop. I went in and it was beautiful and I suddenly became very conscious of the fact that i looked very shabby. I apologized for my attire and immediately began prattling on about cigars and Dunhill and the man working there – with a posh accent and nattily dressed in fine tweeds – could not have been nicer. I picked a Partagas from the walk-in humidor and settled into the lounge, for a smoke and espresso.

The only other guys there were two very handsome and super fancy looking young men, smoking Cohiba Behikes and playing cards, immaculately dressed. We chatted a bit and then i was on my way and discovered that there are in fact 3 more cigars stores on that block. If i hadn’t had a plane to catch i would have spent all day there, but instead i walked past Buckingham Palace, through Piccadilly Circus, the theatre district, Leicester Square, Soho, and Chinatown, before ending at Covent Garden. I didn’t really do anything; i just walked and took everything in. Finally it was time to head back to the Airport.

Wandering North

Category: Europe