Wandering North

Europe Ukraine

Kyiv, Ukraine

I liked Kyiv instantly. I don’t know if it is because I already have a fondness for former Soviet cities or because my maternal grandparents were from the Ukraine or if it is just because it is awesome. Probably a mix of those things. It had everything I wanted for my first international trip during COVID. It felt like Europe, but distinctly Eastern Europe with imposing architecture, a good bustle, ornate churches, nightlife, and a bit of a sense of order. Normally I prefer chaos, but in a time of such caution about travel, a bit of order seemed prudent.

As a Canadian I didn’t need a visa to enter the country, so I breezed in. My COVID test was checked, but only briefly. Soon I was in a taxi, with a new passport stamp, on my way to my hostel in Podil.

Podil is the oldest part of Kyiv and was a great place to stay. I could walk basically everywhere I wanted to go – to all the main churches and squares. And it is a great area of restaurants, cafes, and a bustling nightlife. It was also the location of a proper cigar lounge – a bonus for me.

I was staying at the Dream Hostel Kyiv. It was great. Easy to find and close to all sorts of things. It has a cafe and court yard, good wifi, hot water, a kitchen, laundry, and a proper hang out area, where people were actually hanging out. It would seem that even during COVID, hostels are still a thing, as they were before. When I originally booked this trip a year before, I was going to stay in a dorm, but I figure with the COVID hoopla (and I was only half vaccinated at this point) a private room would be better. It was. I still shared a bathroom, but that seemed ok. Technically masks were required inside, but they were generally not worn. I stayed there at both legs of the Kyiv part of my visit.

The hostel was on a long, historic and hilly street called Andriivs’kyi descent, the bottom of which is in Podil and the top connected with the centre of town, as marked by the stunning Saint Andrews Church, which was the first of many stunning churches that I visited.

Seriously, I went to so many churches, I am sure I have some sort of Orthodox Christian brownies points, notwithstanding a lifetime of dedicated sinning.

I won’t break it down day by day, as I was in Kyiv for about 4 days and I spent most of it wandering; not entirely aimlessly, but from church to park to monument to art gallery to market, making significant detours along the way, as interesting things popped up.

Kyiv is a serious cafe town and I drank an obscene amount of espressos whenever I wanted a break or some wifi.

I delighted in the architecture. Seldom was it quaint or charming, but it was often impressive, overwhelming, and ornate.

It really is a great city for walking. Relatively easy to navigate, with surprising hidden bits. I was looking, for example, for some gallery that I never found, but in what looked like a courtyard car park I found a charming bookstore/cafe. I stumbled upon street art and gardens.

*bird statues in a park I found by accident*

Make no mistake. This is a big city and I did a lot of walking, but it was always worthwhile, even when I did not find what I was looking for, I found things I didn’t know I wanted.

The public transportation was excellent. There is a vast subway system with stations that tout themselves as ornate. I qualify that statement not because they are not attractive (they are) but because once you have been to Moscow, all other subway stations have to be considered in their shadow.

Because Podil is at the bottom of a long hill, there is a handy little funicular to whisk one from the sea to the centre. The walk is also fine but I do love a funicular. I should mention that, like all things, transportation was very cheap in Kyiv. A ride on the subway or funicular was 8 hryvnia or about 35c Canadian.

One of the things I loved about about Kyiv is the smoking culture. This is a place where people smoke. You aren’t supposed to smoke inside, but outside it was totally fine and no one even gave me so much as a disapproving glance for lighting up a cigar over breakfast, for example, provided I was on a patio. It was great.

I really felt like I fit in, which is odd, as usually I’m in places where I stand out more as being from somewhere else. But in Kyiv, as a pale-faced, spiked leather jacket wearing woman with dyed black hair, I looked like a local. This was to the point where people were asking me for directions, which I took as a badge of pride. Hopefully I didn’t set too many people off in the wrong direction.

Most of my evenings were spent wandering around Podil, which each night seemed like a party, with buskers, streets teeming with people, and on many nights, a literal dance party just in the middle of the street.

And on one night it was an actual festival of sorts complete with a stage with live music and some traditional dancing.

At the beginning of my trip I spend just a day and a half in Kyiv before taking a day trip to Chernobyl and then a night train the following day to Lviv. Fresh posts for those places.

Just a note on spelling. It used to be Kiev, which is the Anglicized version of the Russian spelling, but after Ukraine became independent it switched to the Ukrainian spellings (or, for foreigners, the Anglicized versions of the Ukrainian spellings), so it is now Kyiv and not Kiev. People didn’t seem too bothered about it in Kyiv where Russian was the most prevalent language, but in Lviv, people very much wanted things to be spelled in the Ukrainian way. And rightly so.

Europe Ukraine

Travel in Ukraine (during covid)

I waited, I followed the rules. I cancelled my international trips and bided my time for a year during covid-19 … until I couldn’t any longer. What if it went on another year? Was I really going to stay home because the government advised not to travel? Or because I was put off by a legally mandated hotel quarantine (followed by a home quarantine)? By a plethora of covid tests? No. After a year I decided for myself that it was time. So I booked and took one of my cancelled trips from 2020 and in 2021 I went to Ukraine.

My packing list changed somewhat. I brought masks for the flights and a computer in case I got stranded and had to work. My pre-travel planning was overwhelmed by figuring out what tests I needed and when to meet the requirements of Canada, Ukraine, and KLM. And I bought mysterious covid health insurance as required from the Ukrainian government. None of this was any more difficult than figuring out how to get visas for West Africa or traveling to the Congo during Ebola, for example, so I felt well equipped, but there was extra hassle, cost, and preparation involved. I was delighted though because I was going to leave the country for the first time in 14 months.

I flew from Vancouver to Amsterdam and then on to Kyiv. The first flight was empty. Shockingly so. Everyone who wanted a row to themselves had one, with rows in between. It was a nice way to fly, but you can’t help but think about his much the industry is suffering. Everyone wore their masks without complaint. It was orderly and pleasant.

The flight from Amsterdam to Kyiv was different. It was packed and masks appeared to be optional. I mean, they weren’t, but people just didn’t wear them, or wore them as a sort of chin warmer. The flight attendants didn’t even try to fix the situation beyond saying at the start of the fight that masks were required. I think they have given up. Coming from Canada where people are so obedient, it was a bit of a shock, but I wore my mask, so I felt ok about it. If I had gotten worked up it probably would have spoiled my trip because people in Ukraine really didn’t follow any of the covid protocols. On the subway people were pretty good about masks, but indoors elsewhere … it was like there was not even a pandemic on.

People were bald-faced (or at least with their masks worn on their chins) and in close proximity. Bars and restaurants were crowded and spilled out on the street. People crowded, smoking, around tall tables, drinks in hand. Or they danced in groups, recklessly breathing into each other’s faces. The common areas at my hostel still had groups of backpackers hanging out, going to parties, and bunking in dorms. There were no plexiglass barriers. No socially distanced queues. A girl on the street even high-fived me after she borrowed my lighter. It was kind of great.

I am well aware that at the time I was there, Ukraine had one of the worst covid outbreaks in Europe, so their disregard of pandemic rules was probably not great at all, but for me it was a welcome sight. A reminder that life could be normal, that it was relatively normal elsewhere, and maybe Canada would again be normal. It was a jolt out of the relentless pandemic ennui I had been languishing in at home.

I should say that in most restaurants the servers did wear masks and I did stop by one fancy mall (to use the washroom) and they required masks and took my temperature, but those were definitely the exception. I did wear masks inside when I couldn’t socially distance and I sanitized my hands and whatnot. Getting sick would have meant not being able to fly home. So I was careful, but I enjoyed it when others did not.

I am mentioning this all right off the top in my first Ukraine post because I don’t want to keep talking about it in my other posts. This is the way it was. It was the middle of a pandemic and it did affect my trip, but it was not the dominant characteristic of it. There is more to say that is not about coronavirus, so let’s get to that in a fresh post.

me. happy to be in a plane. I know I don’t look it, but that is my happy face.

Canada North America

Long weekend in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan

It was September 2020, still in the midst of the covid-19 pandemic, and I had been holding on to my vacation days, hoping that Canada would lift the travel restrictions and the quarantine rules so I could make up for lost time and take one of my cancelled international trips. I realized that things weren’t likely to change before the end of the year, so I may as well travel domestically. That is why I ended up in Saskatoon.

To clarify: I live in Vancouver, so I’ve seen BC. I’ve seen much of Alberta. I’ve been to Montreal. I had recently been to the Yukon. The Maritimes and NWT had quarantine rules. The flights to Ottawa and Quebec City were high. So I looked at Saskatchewan.

There is really no reason to visit Saskatchewan without a purpose, like family or work. It’s rural and flat and without much of note. (I’m sorry, but it’s true.) But doing a bit of googling (after finding a round trip flight for $119), I decided that Saskatoon looked pretty cute in parts and that it would make a good long weekend trip. And after all, I was dying to get away.

A small rant: When I told people I was going to Saskatoon, many of my friends mocked the choice, saying it was lame or boring. This irked me because people always seem to have something negative to say about anywhere I travel. I’m frequently told my destinations are too dangerous or misogynistic, that my holidays are too short, that I should visit more beaches, that I shouldn’t stay in hostels, etc. I suppose it should have come as no surprise that people would criticize even this choice, which was one of few open to me in a pandemic. Maybe they mean well, but it is annoying.

Anyway…

Saskatoon is a small city of about 250,000, next to a river and surrounded by miles of flat, prairie land. It’s not really known for anything, though locally it is known for having a good arts scene. I was determined to see what there was for myself.

I spent 4 days there, which was too long, but it was relaxing and I stayed at the excellent Alt Hotel. A bit splurgy, but it had a pretty view of the river and an excellent location. It was wonderful.

What I found, through a lot of walking, is that Saskatoon has a fairly nice, if a bit unremarkable downtown, but the area along the river is lovely. Lots of green space, walking and biking trails for miles, and pretty bridges. At the time I was there the weather was beautiful and the leaves were beginning to change, making for picturesque strolls. At night, even when it was chilly, people flocked to the river where buskers played music, people congregated, and people boated and water-skied up and down the river, blasting (mostly country) music. Maybe some of this was due to being unable to meet indoors, due to covid, but regardless, it felt festive and I had my evening cigars there, taking it all in.

Right across the street from my hotel was the Remai Modern art gallery, which is not very large but has an impressive collection – especially for a small city. Picasso lithographs, notably, and both Canadian and international artists. There is a theatre right next to that but it was closed due to the pandemic. There are lots of other museums there that are specific to local history and immigration, but this was the only one I visited. I tried to visit the Ukrainian Museum of Canada, but its hours had been reduced due to covid and I missed my opportunity.

Saskatoon has a cool neighbourhood called Riversdale with lots of great cafes, and restaurants (I’m not a foodie, but the Odd Couple was excellent), cool shops by local makers of things, and vintage shops. It was a great place for an afternoon.

Across the bridge was another cool neighbourhood along Broadway. More cafes and restaurants (Calories is great), shops, and pretty, leafy residential streets.

Broadway Theatre & Calories outdoor seating / me with a cupcake in front of a mural.

These neighbourhoods had a Portland vibe and were super pleasant to stroll through and stop for leisurely reading at cafes and maybe a cupcake.

Saskatoon also has a pretty robust street art scene, mostly downtown and around Broadway, which was a nice reward for all of my walking.

There are some other things outside of Saskatoon that would be worth visiting if one has a car (I do not), like Wanuskewin Heritage Park or this area with spooky, crooked trees and there are lots of outdoorsy areas for biking, canoeing, and whatnot. Lots to do for a few days.

So it was a pleasant, relaxing 4 days. Due to the pandemic, there wasn’t much opportunity for being social. Everything was distanced, many things were closed, and capacities reduced. Masks were worn indoors everywhere, though, thankfully, not outdoors. It didn’t hamper my experience too much, but it did keep the trip on the quieter side.

So, would I recommend Saskatoon for a holiday? Probably not. There are lots of places to go and I wouldn’t say that this tops any lists, but if you are on a road trip or going there for a purpose, it does have things to offer. Or, if you live in Canada and you are looking for an inexpensive weekend away or have vowed to travel domestically, I think it is a fine weekend away and far far better than my naysaying friends would have led me to believe.

Canada North America

Yes, there is a human toe in the SourToe Cocktail

If you find yourself in Dawson City, whether you are traveling for pleasure or running from the law, you can’t leave without trying the Sour Toe Cocktail. Yes, it is a drink with a human toe in it. It is real. And it is, as far as I am aware, it is uniquely Canadian.

Apparently, in the 1920s, a couple of rum running brothers holed up in a cabin near Dawson City in a blizzard. One of the men had gotten severe frostbite in his foot and the other cut off the affected toe and put it in a bottle of whisky as a memento. As you do.

Flash forward to the early 1970s and riverboat captain/bartender Dick Stevenson found the bottle in the abandoned cabin and in 1973 decided to start serving the toe in a shot of booze at the bar at the Downtown Hotel: the Sourdough Saloon.

Over the years the original toe was lost, but there have been multiple toes in use. Some have been stolen or swallowed; some just got worn out. New toes have been donated from new frostbite victims. And in 2019 when Captain Stevenson himself died at 89, he willed his toes to the bar to be used in future cocktails.

Each toe is preserved in salt and then popped into drinks for brave bucket-listers to enjoy.

To date over 93,000 people have had the cocktail. I was number 93,090.

I was staying at the hotel, so I just popped downstairs and told them I was there for the sourtoe cocktail. I paid them ($12 CDN I think) and selected my booze. Well, actually I told them to pick, since I figured they would know best what goes with toe.

When my name was called, I sat at a table across from a ‘toe captain’ who reminded me that there is a hefty fine for swallowing the toe and recited a rhyming verse about having to have the toe touch my lips to officially be in the ‘club’. He did this whilst waving the toe around with tongs. I should say that I was there alone and felt self-conscious about taking too many pictures as others were waiting, so my pictures are lousy, but authentic.

My alcohol selected for me was the traditional Yukon Jack whiskey, which was too sweet for my liking but also masked any other flavours that might have been lurking in the glass.

I must admit, the toe did look pretty gross and I did my shot, worried that I would accidentally swallow it after it stuck to the bottom of the glass and I had to give it a shake to get the wet, mummified toe to fall onto my lips, but I didn’t swallow it. Just a brief bit of contact and it was done and I was awarded with my very own certificate, which I think should be on the wall of my office with my law degree, but it is not…yet.

I don’t know how anyone could go to Dawson City and not ‘kiss the toe’. It’s too weird to be believed and even though roughly 100,000 people have done it, it is still a great story.

Canada North America

Dawson City, Yukon

I flew to Dawson City from Whitehorse on the tiniest of airplanes. It was fun and felt retro – due partly to the fact that there was absolutely no pre-boarding security checks. No x-rays, no pat downs, no assessment of liquids. It was like flying in the 1970s. The airport in Dawson City is literally a one-room affair.

Dawson City is now the farthest north I have been, as it is even farther north than Helsinki. Wandering North indeed. Dawson City is a Klondike Gold Rush town, founded officially in the late 1800s but replacing a First Nations village. It soared in population during the gold rush, and then dropped off. It currently has a population of about 1400 people but is a tourist destination for people who venture that far north.

It is charming. A proper old-timey town, along the Dawson River with mud streets and raised wood plank sidewalks, wooden buildings dating back close to 100 years and most painted bright colors. It kind of feels like you are in a gold rush theme park, except that everything is authentic.

Normally the place would be busy with tourists, but this was August 2020, so Covid kept most people away. Some things, like the historic Diamond Tooth Gertie’s gambling hall (complete with dancing girls) were closed completely and others, like a number of restaurants were doing outdoor eating or takeaway only. That said, I was still able to fully enjoy my visit.

I strolled past the buildings, walked along the river and did a little hiking.

I took an excellent historic walking tour put on by the visitor’s centre daily. They let us go inside some buildings that are otherwise closed to the public and had truly excellent stories about con men, prostitutes, and adventurers to had made Dawson City home.

The thing I kept thinking was: who are these people who live here? Who choose to live in a place where it goes down to -25C in the winter and where the sun largely disappears? Where they are near…nothing aside from wilderness. I assume the must all be criminals (joking – sort of) or people who have just rejected the trappings of a more conventional life.

What really blew my mind was that on the other side of the Yukon River from Dawson City is an area that is not part of any town and that is unconnected to plumbing or electricity and people live there and commute to Dawson by crossing the river by ferry when it is not frozen and walking across when it is (there is no bridge). Being that off-the-grid is enough of a stretch but twice a year – once when things are freezing and once when they are thawing – for about 4-6 weeks, it is impossible to cross. The ferry can’t run, but the ice is not firm enough for walking. So they just have to hunker down and wait. Crazy. Admirable, but definitely not for me. There is even a guy who lives on the other side of the river in a cave and has been doing so since the 1990s.

If you do cross the river on the ferry and walk along the river for a bit you will come to the ‘paddle wheel graveyard’. A place where several late 1800s/early 1900s paddle wheel boats crashed and were just left there. They are pretty much wrecks now, but you can still see what they were and you can climb all over them. It’s eerie and really cool.

That’s pretty much all I did in Dawson City – aside from drinking a drink with a human toe in it, but I’ll save that for the next post. There were lively bars with a serious dive quality that was appealing, but covid kept me out of such places. I was there for 2 days which was pretty good. I didn’t wish for more time. I recommend it if you are in that neck of the woods. It kind of made me realize just how big and, in places, wild and unforgiving Canada is.

Canada North America

Whitehorse Weekend

I had never thought much about the Yukon aside from having to learn its location and capital in elementary school, and I would not have gone if it wasn’t or a pandemic trapping me in Canada. While I can’t say that my long weekend trip to the Yukon (Whitehorse and Dawson City) was amazing, it was a pretty good short trip from Vancouver and I would recommend it, provided you like outdoorsy things.

View of Miles Canyon outside of Whitehorse, Yukon

Coronavirus & Travel

Covid. I have to say something about it because it is the only reason I decided to travel domestically (within Canada). It was March 2020 and I was 24 hours away from a weekend trip to New York when the pandemic was declared and the directive not to travel came down. I cancelled that trip and trips over the next few months to Denmark and Ukraine. I had trips for the rest of 2020 planned to Sudan, Iraq, et cetera, but none of that came to be. Obviously there are far worse things than not traveling (someone is always worse off than you and it is a bit of folly to compare suffering), but not being able to travel has been awful. It is the only thing I really want to do and without it, I live in a city I am a bit lukewarm about and all I do is work. Without travel to look forward to, life feels a bit pointless. That’s how I feel anyway.

By August 2020, I realized things weren’t going to open up any time soon and I decided to see something in Canada, so I picked the Yukon. It’s close to Vancouver and looked interesting. At the time, people from British Columbia were the only travelers allowed into the Yukon; everyone else was shut out due to coronavirus fears. It seemed like an easy choice and I decided to visit Whitehorse and Dawson City.

Whitehorse

I flew to Whitehorse. My first covid flight. Masks and lots of extra questions. I took a taxi from the airport to my accommodations: the Historical Guesthouse. If I returned I would definitely stay there again. It’s a log house built in 1907. It has a few rooms and shared facilities with a suite in the basement. It is simple and cozy with a great location. The best part though was that in the back is a colorful garden with sunflowers and raspberry canes. The owners live in a log cabin behind that. I quickly discovered that the husband of the couple is an avid cigar smoker. I was in heaven. I spent each of my two nights there with him (Bernie) sitting in the garden smoking cigars until late and swapping stories. He has a lot of good ones from his many years of living in the North.

Whitehorse the city itself isn’t anything that special. It’s small but not so small as to be quaint. There are some shops, but not much of interest. There is an arts scene, but it was shut down when I went because of the virus. You could easily see the town in a day (or less).

That said, I really enjoyed myself. I was so happy to be away. I walked the streets, photographed some street art and old buildings of character.

I was delighted by the foxes that seem to be everywhere in town if you get up early enough.

I was amused by the Yukon take on the covid social distancing signs that the government had erected. I now have a good sense of how big a caribou is compared to a loaf of sourdough bread.

Because of covid, many restaurants were just closed and many others were only doing takeout, so I didn’t get a sense of the restaurant scene, but I enjoyed a fancy grilled cheese from a cart and got coffee and soup to go from the Burnt Toast Café. And both evenings I had amazing vegan ramen from Wood Street Ramen.

The MacBride Museum of Yukon History was open and it worth a visit.

The thing that is best about Whitehorse, at least during my pandemic visit, was the outdoors. There is a nice riverfront with a path for walking and cycling and there are lots of bike rental places, as well as places to rent kayaks and canoes. Going canoeing seemed like fun, but I wasn’t about to just go out on my own. But I did walk and wander.

If one is so inclined there are tons of day canoe or kayak or hiking excursions around Whitehorse and if you don’t go in the middle of the summer, as I did, there are the Northern Lights. But I filled my two days easily without those things. If I had been there with other people or I had a car, there are quite a few day trips one could do to see a weird desert, pretty lakes, and quaint communities. I really wanted to visit Carcross (a tiny town with a vibrant First Nations community and lots of art) but you need a car. If I went back I would figure out a way to do that.

Day one I explored the town.

Day two I went on a hike that somehow took me eight hours when it should have taken four. The Miles Canyon Loop. It is walk-able from town and is far, but not difficult. Very scenic. Endless green trees cleaved by a jewel blue river with high, rock walls. It was the sort of scenery I wanted from my Canadian North excursion.

I had two full days and two nights of sight seeing in Whitehorse. On day three I flew to Dawson City, the old timey old west city in the Yukon, which was great: history, colorful old buildings, shipwrecks, and a human toe.

I wouldn’t say that one should travel from far flung parts of the globe to visit Whitehorse, but if you are already in the vicinity (like in Vancouver) it is an inexpensive, quick, and enjoyable place to do some outdoorsy stuff and see something a bit different. I would even consider going again once this stupid pandemic is over.

Asia Pakistan/Oman trip 2020 Qatar

A Day in Doha, Qatar

I flew from Lahore, Pakistan to Vancouver, Canada via Doha, Qatar. I had various options as to how long a layover I wanted in Doha, everything from a couple of hours to 24 hours. Obviously I went for the longer version. I had no prior interest in Doha, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to see a bit. I am so glad I had the layover and I had good time, but 24 hours was sufficient to satisfy my curiosity.

You might not know Qatar; and fair enough. It is but a pinprick on the map. It is a tiny appendage on the Arabian peninsula between Bahrain and the UAE. It is like the uvula of the Persian Gulf. It has beaches and sweeping sand dunes. Traditional souqs and futuristic towers. I was only there for a day so I was sticking to Doha and specifically the area around the historic souq.

I landed early. Immigration was quick and orderly and I did not linger in the airport. I only had 24 hours. I taxied to my hotel. As I do customarily, I splurged on my final night of vacation and stayed in a posh hotel (the Al Najada by Tivoli). Fancy. My room was bigger than my apartment and had a lovely view. But the big draw of the hotel was that it is just across the street from Souq Wahif.

Doha is a city divided. It has a very modern area on one of the corniche and a historic and meticulously preserved souq area towards the other end. Away from the water are regular areas, neither historic nor futuristic, visible from the taxi window.

The souq is about 250 years old, but in recent years, after a fire and decline, it was restored. So it is old and new. The renovations undertaken preserved the original character and architecture.

After being in Lahore for a bit, it was a nice change. I enjoyed wandering around the market, browsing the wares, and drinking fresh juice, and smoking shisha.

The locals wear traditional attire, with the men wearing long white tunics and loose white headdresses (called a gutra) held in place with a black rope (called an agal). The women’s dress was less uniform, but seemed to be more often black and a little more covered up. This was in sharp contrast to the tourists, most of whom were on shore leave from their cruise ships and looked shockingly underdressed by comparison. Qatar advises tourists not to wear miniskirts, sleeveless tops, and short or tight clothing in public.

One thing that was, for me, unique to the area were the falcons. There is a tradition of falconry in Qatar. There is even a whole Falcon Souq just next to Souq Wahif. Doha is downright crazy for falcons. They have festivals of falconry, races, hunting, etc. Falcons are apparently also seen as status symbols. In and around the souq, men can be seen walking around displaying a formidable looking falcon on their arm. (Try as I might I could not get any worthwhile photos of that.) In the Falcon Souq there are shops selling falcons and related accoutrements – including tiny leather helmets. There is even a dedicated falcon hospital.

Also in and around the souqs are stables of camels and horses.

The souq is, at first, utterly charming. It is so pleasant and easy for exploring. Appealing cafes and restaurants, shops selling spices and colorful textiles, the bubbling and fruity smoke from hookahs.

But it also feels very sanitized. I don’t know if it is the newness or the cleanliness or the obvious catering to tourists, but it does feel a bit like you are in some Disney park “Arabia Land.”

So after a trip where I was sick and staying in a grotty hostel it was nice to be somewhere totally different, but I didn’t feel like I wanted more time.

I enjoyed a leisurely walk along the corniche, enjoying the views and the sea air.

I also enjoyed the endless pictures of the Emir. Qatar is a “semi constitutional monarchy”, having a Prime Minister and an Emir (though the Emir appoints the PM, so his power is the one that matters). The Emir is Tamim Bin Hamad and his face is everywhere. On buildings and flags, merchandise and paintings, even showing up as latte art.

There are some other landmarks and museums in Doha that I could have visited, but I was still sick and feeling tired, so I had a relaxing day of walking with stops for shisha or cigars.

In the welcome cool of the evening, I had dinner and shisha in the souq and walked around looking at the illuminated building.

It was a great layover and a relaxing way to end my trip.

When I left the next morning for Vancouver I had already booked trips abroad for first half of 2020 and was looking forward to seeing Denmark, Ukraine, Iraqi Kurdistan, and Sudan…but of course none of that happened and this was my only international trip in 2020. I am still sad about that.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Sufi Night in Lahore, Pakistan

My third day in Lahore I had planned to see more of the city and spend the evening watching dervishes whirl, but the day did not go as planned. The illness I had come down with the night before persisted. I did make it to Sufi night, but that was about the only thing I did.

Still Sick

I spent most of my day in my little, windowless hostel room. I had a fever, I was freezing cold, and I ached all over. I was nauseous and got up to go to the bathroom, which was not attached to my room and lacked basic facilities. Fine when you’re well; but very inconvenient when you’re sick. I just laid there, with not even enough energy to read.

Finally, in the early evening, I went for walk down the block to a market to buy toilet paper and water and I went to a restaurant with a patio. I ordered a platter of assorted vegetarian, Pakistani dishes. I had no appetite, but I figured I should eat something so I had nibbles of the dishes, leaving most of it. I at least wanted to try some local food. It was very good. I wish I had been hungry.

Some pictures from my outing:

That night – Thursday night – was “Sufi Night”. I was going no matter what.

Sufi Night

Every Thursday night, followers of the Sufi faith in Lahore gather at a few places, including the shrine to Sufi Saint Shah Jamal, for an all night gathering of music, dance, and prayer. I went with the manager of my hostel. I am glad I did. I could easily have taken a tuk tuk to the shrine, but it would have been intimidating and I would not have gotten as close.

The shrine was on a crazy busy but small street lined with shops. People and tuk tuks pressed in. I had to cover my head well before we entered the area and I kept it covered, I didn’t see any other obvious foreigners and few women.

We walked into and through the marble shrine and to the back of it, where a couple hundred people gathered outside under some large bodhi (peepal) trees. There were lights strung up and fires burned. The air was thick with incense and hashish smoke.

In the clearing in the middle of the people was a group of musicians, notably drummers, wearing log red robes with drums like wine barrels hung in front of them by a sash around their necks. They beat on their drums with hook-shaped implements, creating the rhythm that drove everything and everyone around it.

The clearing was filled with maybe 15 men; each dressed in a single color, barefoot, spinning. Some of them spun constantly, some spun intermittently. Arms out, head slightly back. Eyes closed or open, but intensely focused on something. Others danced, stomped, thrashed, swayed, kicked legs, waved arms, rolled heads, twitched hips. It was fascinating. Even a little unsettling at times.

My companion forced us right up to the front. We were seated cross-legged on the ground; sometimes just a few inches from a foot or knee.

The dancers seemed unaware of the crowd or each other. Like they were in a trance. Some of them wore bells that made them part of the music.

The crowed swayed and nodded to the beat. It was easy to become entranced just watching (though obviously not to the same degree). Occasionally someone from the audience would join in, briefly.

The most extreme thing I saw was one young man who had been dancing and spinning, kneeled down and began pounding his forehead into the ground along to the music. Someone eventually put some cloth under his head to prevent him from doing more damage to himself.

A couple of times one of the drummers took to the clearing and, while continuing to drum the beat, spun around fast; never losing the pulse of the music.

It was hypnotic and fascinating.

I took photos, but they are all a blur. Literally.

After about 2 hours I had to insist we leave. It just continues until dawn (theoretically) and people come and go. My unsettled stomach insisted that we leave when we did.

I think this is a ‘must do’ if visiting Lahore. If I had been feeling better, I would have liked to wander around the shrine and the neighbourhood more, but what I saw was great.

Winding up in Lahore

I will add that the next day in Lahore was my last. It was the day I would have gone on a day trip out of the city, but I still felt awful. I took antibiotics, but again, I spent most of the day in bed, going out in the late afternoon for a very slow walk to a local park around a library (?), where I sat outside and sipped at a coffee.

That was it for Lahore for me. Not as action packed as I had planned, but yet it was thoroughly satisfying. I look forward to returning to Pakistan someday to see more, but on this trip that was it. I would have one night in Doha and then I was back to Vancouver.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Wagah Border Ceremony – The View from Lahore

Wagah Border

Getting there

At the end of day two in Lahore, Pakistan I planned to go to the Wagah border between Pakistan and India for the famous Wagah Border ceremony. Each day since 1959 an impressive military ceremony is held at this border crossing, on both sides, with great fanfare and feats. Apparently it was not to be missed, so I put it on my list.

The border is not too far from Lahore and you can take a taxi and arrange to have them wait and drive you back or you can take a bus and walk a bit, but I went with a hassle free and slightly more pricey option; I went with the manager of my hostel in a car. While it did cost a little more than if I went on my own, it was worth it. I was able to ask lots of questions and get pictures that I probably would not have been comfortable asking for on my own. On the way there I enjoyed seeing the sights and streets, as the driver stopped repeatedly to get snacks for us to share – samosas, oranges, popcorn.

The Event

Everyday before sunset, hundreds of spectators gather in stadium-style seating on either side of the border, which is marked with a tall, pointy fence and gate. On one side is India and the other Pakistan. Each side has its group of aggressively moustachioed soldiers in fancy dress, complete with elaborate headdresses. There is music and flag waving.

*Looking Across the Border to the Indian Side*

Prior to the actual ceremony starting the crowds are worked into a frenzy with music and singing and cheering. There were men who hyped up the crowd, leading cheers and yells, waving huge flags. One man, who had only one leg, delighted the crown by spinning around and around and waving a massive flag in the air with endless enthusiasm.

Entrance is free and if you are a foreigner there you will be ushered to one of the seats in front for the best views.

During all this pre-ceremony hoopla, the soldiers are strutting around and posing for photographs. I couldn’t resist. Not only are their uniforms imposing, but they are ridiculously tall. Just for context in the photos, I am 5’9″ and they tower over me.

Finally, the ceremony started. The gates along the border open, though to be clear: the border may not be crossed. I asked my companion what would happen if one of the soldiers accidentally crossed the line and he said he would be jailed or killed. I couldn’t gauge if he was serious.

The ceremony itself consists of marching and competitions of who could blow a horn the longest and who could kick the highest. There is a lot of posturing, including assertive moustache twirling. There and regular chants of “Pakistaaaaan” and something about Allah and the crown went wild; leaping to its feet to join in.

It was very weird and really interesting. I had a great time. On the way back to the car about a half dozen people asked to take selfies with me; a trend that continued during my time in Lahore. Seriously, the friendliest people.

The Sickness Sets In…

That evening I hung out at the hostel, on the patio, chatting with a couple of hard core, long term travellers. It was great. But soon I started to feel…not so good. I was freezing cold (for no normal reason) and my hands started visibly shaking. At bedtime, I but slept poorly as I developed a fever and digestive issues. I felt awful but I figured that I had food poisoning.

In the morning I did not feel better and the symptoms then also included intense body aches. I’ve been sick on travels before and I wasn’t surprised – after all, I had been eating from food stalls with communal dishes and utensils – but this was bad. I didn’t think about it at the time, as I was only peripherally aware of coronavirus (it was mid-late February 2020), but weeks later, when I was home and still feeling bad with aches, a bad cough, occasional fever, and diarrhea it occurred to me I could had covid19, but at the time it did not occur to me at all. So my next two days in Lahore were mostly spent in my dismal room, feeling awful. Thankfully I packed my first two days with activity, so I didn’t feel deprived, though I did wish I had picked a nicer place to stay.

Fortunately, the next night I did muster enough fortitude to see the dervishes. That’s for another post.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

More Lahore: the Fort, the Mosque, & the Old City

On my second day in Lahore, My plan was to explore the fort, mosque, and old city. I awoke early at my hostel. There was meant to be breakfast, but no one was up, so I went out for a walk in search of coffee. I walked up to the high street and meandered along until I saw a “food street”. Lahore has one popular and touristy food street, but the reality is that there are multiple food streets, which are basically just streets that are nothing but restaurants and food vendors.

It was a great street for walking. People, well, men actually, were gathering to eat plates filled with meaty offerings, flat breads, rice, and tea. I could not find anything vegetarian and I was later told that coffee is usually had later in the day. I did get a fresh carrot juice and a salty lassi, made by fancily dressed men who beat the thick yogurt into submission with long, wooden poles.

I wandered around a bit more, stopping to peer at the Lahore Museum and the Zamzama Gun (cannon) out front, which features in the opening lines of the Rudyard Kipling novel Kim.

There is a lot of grand architecture up and down The Mall with narrow streets crossing, where the architecture becomes…less grand, but also kind of wonderful. Narrow, colorful, and a bit chaotic.

I went back to my hostel where breakfast was served. Tea and a large, greasy, spicy flatbread with potatoes and carrots served on newspaper and with dishes that felt far from clean, on a table to match.

It was time to go the Badshahi Mosque. I think I could have walked, but it would have taken quite a while, so I jumped in a tuk tuk (which cost next to nothing after only minimal haggling) and was dropped off at the entrance to the mosque.

Head coverings and modest dress were required. I kept my head covered most of the time in Lahore, as it was difficult to know where it was and was not required.

The Badshahi Mosque was stunning. It did look a lot like the grand mosque in Delhi, but was much larger. It was completed in 1773 and is an imposing and delicate structure with graceful minarets and intricate jeweled inlay.

I walked around, watching equal parts of people praying and taking selfies. Clearly, I was in the latter group.

Right next to the mosque is the Lahore Fort, which is a massive citadel spanning 20 hectares and containing multiple buildings. There has been a fort there since at least the 11^th C (there have been settlements there going back to 2000 BC), but the fort that is there now dates back to the 16^th C, with most of it having been rebuilt in the 17^th C.

There is a modest entry fee to the Fort and headscarves were required. I opted not to take a guided tour, and instead just walked around the buildings. Definitely worth visiting, but I got a bit bored after a while and wanted to be back on the streets, so I exited through a gate – not the gate I entered through – and then had no idea where I was. There were decorative tuk tuks waiting and I had one drop me off at a specific to the Old City, where I had the start of a walk planned.

The Old City (aka The Walled City of Lahore) is a walled city within Lahore dating back to the 11^th C, but having been rebuilt since then. Like a medina in a Middle Eastern city, it is a labyrinthine city with appealing, traditional shops and mosques.

The best thing to do is just walk aimlessly, finding what there is to find. Eventually you will find a gate to exit through and if you are lost, there are always tuk tuks to rescue you.

I was delighted. I came across a traditional hookah and tobacco shop run by serious-looking moustachioed men. They used the type of hookahs that have long metal tubes that one smokes through instead of hoses. And the tobacco is not the moist, fruity variety; it is mostly dried and twisted into long thick ropes. The men there did not speak much English, but they understood that I loved their shop and they happily let me take photos.

Just after that, a young man who did speak English called me over to his cart from where he was selling yellow lentil cakes served with spicy sauce. Delicious. He insisted that I have one for free, though I did buy a second one.

I walked to the Wazir Khan Mosque, which I was looking forward to seeing, as it is known for being one of the most ornate mosques of the Mughal period.

After that, I walked around the Old City, browsing and taking pictures and chatting with locals where possible. I bought a new red headscarf.

I feel I should say that at no point did I feel unsafe or uncomfortable. I was dressed respectfully, though I did attract a fair bit of attention due to being an obvious tourist.

By late afternoon I made my way back to my hostel, as I had arranged to take a car to the Wagah Border that evening to watch the daily ceremony. I’ll put that in a separate post.

Lahore was just marvelous. I had plans to explore more of the city and different areas, though that was not to be; but the time I did spend there satisfied me thoroughly. The people were so friendly, the city was exciting, and the sights were impressive. It was exactly what I wanted.