Wandering North

Africa Togo West Africa Trip 2019

The Gruesome Menagerie: The Fetish Market of Lomé

My first full day in Lomé I planned to go to the Akodessawa Fetish Market (aka the Marché aux Fetiches aka the Marché des Féticheurs) and, mission accomplished, I did go. The fetish market in the Akodessawa area of Lomé is, reportedly, the largest fetish market in the world. (For clarity’s sake, we are talking about a voodoo market selling items for rituals, not a marketplace of latex dresses and ball gags.) This was, in fact, the thing I was most looking forward to in Togo.

One of the main things that drew me to West Africa on this particular trip is that Togo and Benin are the birthplace of Voodoo (as it is known in the Americas) or Voudou, Vodun, or various other iterations (as it is known in Togo and Benin) – I’ll stick with the common American spelling. Today about half the population identifies as a practitioner of this spiritual practice, and, I am told, even many of those who identify as Muslim or Christian will still turn to Voodoo when they need help or protection.

There will be a lot of Voodoo references in the future blog posts for this particular trip. But on this day, I went to the Fetish Market in Lomé.

To get to the market from central Lomé, hail a moto from any street. It should cost 500-700 cfa (that’s around $1 cdn). You can ask the driver to wait for you and drive you back if your French is up to it. There is really nothing else to see right around the market, so having your driver wait might not be a bad idea. I didn’t want to feel rushed, so I sent mine away.

The market is not that big, but there is a lot to see. As far as I could tell, this is a legitimate fetish market. Locals were there shopping and seeing the Voodoo practitioners, but it also welcomes tourists. Tourists pay a fee of the equivalent of a few dollars, which includes a guide. You could go without the guide, but you really wouldn’t learn anything.

My guide was great. He explained to me that the dried creatures on display, with a few exceptions, were all to be sold and used in rituals or potions; often grounds up with plants or other natural items.

Ringing the market were displays of carefully laid out dead things: birds, snakes, chameleons, insects, monkeys, rodents, dogs, lions, apes, etc. Some were whole; most were merely heads.

In one area there were some freshly severed animal heads drying in the sun. (I’ll not post the picture of that.)

There were also some things they had on display only because they were old specimens of creatures that could no longer be legally killed, like a hippopotamus skull, a lion cub head, and a fully dried baboon).

Now, I love this kind of dark, gruesome stuff, so I was fascinated. However, I am not unaware of the fact that all of this is a collection of animals who were killed for spirituality (which, as an atheist, I give no practical merit to). That is a lot of senseless killing. And as a vegetarian, it does give me pause…but then I remember that people kill animals for all sorts of stupid, selfish reasons: for entertainment, for food, for fashion, for byproducts of the pet industry…its all morally reprehensible, but I am not above it as I still wear leather. So I left my judgment aside and indulged in my curiosity about this cultural and spiritual practice.

I did visit one of the Voodoo practitioners. He (through my guide) explained what many of the items were that he had in his tiny, dark hovel. I selected a couple of items and had them blessed (that’s not really the right word) for certain uses. One for luck. One for protection in travel. I don’t believe in it, but it was neat. I had to say and do some things and then the Voodoo man rang a bell and said some chants over the items as they lay in a calabash.

And I left, with my magic charms in tow (but without any severed heads) and feeling slightly more knowledgeable about Voodoo. I had not had my moto driver wait for me, but a guy from the market walked with me to the main road and stayed with me until we hailed a moto that agreed to take me back downtown (500cfa).

*Me at the fetish market with a chameleon and with one of the Voodoo practitioners*

There certainly is a tourist element to the market, but it is a real place for people without cameras and questions. And honestly, I am glad it does welcome tourists or it would have been rather difficult, if not impossible, to ask questions, poke around, and take pictures. It is certainly worth a visit.

The next day brought more voodoo with a day trip from Lome to Togoville.

Togo West Africa Trip 2019

Lomé, Togo

To get to Lomé from Accra one can take a comfortable bus with the STC company, but they only run on certain days and I was to travel on an off day. I did not relish traveling by tro-tro, crammed in a hot minivan with countless others, so I decided to travel by shared taxi. I caught a regular taxi from my hostel to Tudu Station, which isn’t so much a station as it is a collection of cars, vans, and vendors all loudly vying for one’s attention.

The deal with a shared taxi, as with a tro-tro, is that the vehicle leaves when it is full. Fortunately I didn’t have to wait long. And I got the front seat. The 3.5 hour drive to the border was about $10 cdn and quite comfortable.

The border experience was fine. I went to 4 checks, 2 on each side. (I had applied for and received my visa whilst still in Canada.) The guards were friendly. One flirted, another insisted on taking my picture as I crossed out of Ghana. Whenever I started to go the wrong way someone kindly ushered me in the right direction.

And just like that, I was in Togo. Immediately different from Ghana in that it is a French speaking country and suddenly baguettes are for sale from baskets atop women’s heads (along with everything else.)

On the other side of the border I needed a taxi. Before I even had time to haggle, a man and his wife found me a driver they knew, made sure he knew where my hotel was, and got me a good price. But even had they not assisted, getting a taxi would not have been a problem. They were right there.

My hotel, Residence Hoteliere Oceane, was an odd pseudo-French countryside castle design with African art. I had a two level suite (quite unnecessary, really) and a little seating area overlooking the courtyard, which also had seating. Smoking was allowed, which meant that I finished each of my three nights there enjoying a cigar in the bar.

I really liked Lomé. I hadn’t expected to, as nothing I read about it ahead of time suggested it was anything other than a place to pass through. Staying in the centre was a good choice. I could walk to almost everything I wanted to see, as well as to the market for anything I could want to buy.

Compared to Accra, Lomé felt chill and pleasant. I wandered around the market and generally walked the streets. No one hassled me. I never for a moment felt unsafe. Everyone was simply friendly; greeting me with Bonjours and Bienvenues.

The market (Le Grande Marché) was fantastic. Crowded and busy, but not stressful. Everything you can conceive of is sold there. I would have liked to have gotten better photos, but people in Lomé really don’t like having photos taken – even if not of them, but just of their merchandise – and will sometimes say no. I still managed to get a few.

In the midst of the market is a striking red and white church outside of which I met a guy who offered and I accepted to hire him to take me on a day trip the following day. Serendipity.

The streets of Lomé are shabby and bustling, but they are also often tree-lined and the traffic is not crazy, which made it nice for walking. I took pictures of the few bigger buildings with interesting architecture.

I visited the artisans market where I resisted the urge to buy more than a few trinkets, but it was great for a browse.

I headed towards the independence monument, marking Togo’s liberation from France. At this point I was sweating and red-faced from the heat, so I walked purposefully towards a shiny, tall hotel where I basked in the AC for a little while.

I walked towards the Royal Palace. I had read online that it had been refurbished as a gallery / art centre in the midst of beautiful gardens stretching to the sea. The pictures look stunning, but when I arrived I was told that the opening had been delayed for one week. So I saw only pictures, but if you are planning to visit Lomé, it is a must visit.

I should say, there is a beach all along the city, but I did not visit, though glimpses were in abundance.

There are few restaurants in the centre, at least that is my observation; and I had trouble finding vegetarian street food, so my dinners tended to be baguette and fruit from the market and Camembert and yogurt from the supermarket.

That was sort of my first day and a half in Lomé. I did also visit the Fetish Market on day two but I will make a separate post about that.

Africa Ghana West Africa Trip 2019

Ghana’s Cape Coast

Having seen what I most wanted to see of Accra, I rather spontaneously decided to book a private tour down the coast of Ghana – the Cape Coast or “Gold Coast”. It is possible to do these things by tro tro and taxi, but it would have been a stretch to do it in one day. The tour for one person (through Tichama Tours) was very pricey, but worth it.

I was picked up at 6am and we drove for about 3 hours. I can’t tell you much about that, other than that it was pleasant and I was in and out of sleep.

Our first stop was at Kakume National Park (where allegedly there are elephants and other creatures, but we didn’t see them. Probably because I kept yelling “this is so cool!”). We hiked for a bit in the humid jungle before reaching the first of 5 narrow rope bridges. It wasn’t treacherous or anything, though it would be prohibitive to those with a fear of heights.

From there we drove a bit farther to the town of Elmina, which looked lovely, to visit the Elmina Castle built as a trading fort by the Portuguese in the 1400s, but is notable for being one of the slave forts or castles along the coast.

They require one to take a guided tour, which is an excellent idea or you wouldn’t really appreciate what you are looking at.

Here’s the thing, obviously I am aware of slavery and when and where it happened and of its horrors, but I realized in this tour that most of my knowledge was focused on what happened after the people were forcibly taken to the Americas. I didn’t really appreciate that before that chapter of horror were others: that people were forced to walk from their towns and villages to the slave forts. Many were killed en route. And that once they were at the fort they endured sometimes months of the worst possible captivity and treatment. Confined by the hundreds to small cells, branded, starved, raped. They even developed a tool to force feed those who tried to starve themselves to death. Hearing about it in the place (one of the places) where this happened was…upsetting. And I don’t usually feel upset when visiting sites of atrocity. And the really weird thing was that the setting and the building were so beautiful. It seems wrong that something so awful should happen in a beautiful setting.

I am glad I went.

After that I had some Ghanaian food by the sea and talked with my guide and a woman from the States volunteering with the Peace Corps.

After lunch we had one more stop just down the road: the Cape Coast Castle. It was similar to the former site, with one memorable difference. At one point, the guide drew our attention to the floor. Originally it was brick but in the cells the brick was mostly covered by a black coating. I figured it was a sort of concrete. But it isn’t. It is a hardened sludge. They tested it in recent decades and found it is composed of human blood, tissue, and feces.

Right. So I should say that both buildings have doors of no return from which slaves left for the Americas. From the outside the door to the Cape Coast Castle now reads “door of return” and some remains of slaves were repatriated. Outside now is a vibrant fishing port.

Extremely grim, but a good, emotional, and informative day. I ended it with some questionable street food and a cigar.

The next day I would travel to Lome, Togo.

Africa Ghana West Africa Trip 2019

Ambling about Accra

My first full day Accra began with a great breakfast at the hostel. There was a decent mix of people staying there, but with the exception of two older couples, everyone staying there was there to work or volunteer. They had their little cliques, so it wasn’t social, but I didn’t want to linger. I had sights to see.

Taxis are labelled and plentiful. I hailed one on the street and took it to the lighthouse in Jamestown, the oldest part of Accra, at the sea. (The taxis don’t have meters, so agree on a price before you get in. You can haggle, but in my case the offered price was what my hostel had recommended. I never felt like I was getting cheated.)

Jamestown is colorful, scrappy, and crumbly. I liked it. I didn’t take a bunch of pictures of the street though. I’m always a bit camera shy on day one. I walked to the beach, past a very poor cluster of makeshift housing. Everyone I passed was very friendly – but not too friendly.

I walked over to and around the fishing port. It was early and it was busy. Boats coming and going. Fishes for sale and being chopped up. Crabs. Men fussing with nets. I attracted constant stares. Lots of women were there, but I was the only white person and the tattoos also caught glances.

But everyone was nice. A lot of hellos, welcomes, and offers to sell me fish. I asked if I could take photos and no one objected.

I met a nice woman named Dora who told me she is a vegetarian and yoga and meditation devotee who works giving massages to the fishermen, though she said they seldom pay. She walked around with me, introducing me to different people.

I then walked along a main street, passed a couple of former slave prisons until I happened across a great courtyard cafe / gallery, the Jamestown Café, where I sat and had a coffee with a guy from the Massisi area of the Congo. He was shocked when I said I had been there last year.

I carried on. I arrived at the Kwame Nkrumah Memorial Park, which marks Ghana’s independence and houses the mausoleum of Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana’s first president. It was pretty and serene.

Almost right next door to that was an artisans market. A collection of shops and very poor housing, along with stalls were you could see people carving masks, making drums and jewelry, sewing clothes, weaving baskets. I was immediately accosted by a guy who offered to show me around. I figured I would have to top him, but the company was nice and had I been left on my own I wouldn’t haven seen as much as I did.

I did buy a mask from the guy’s shop. As I was leaving, he insisted I try the drums. Before I knew it, I was in a drum circle, learning how to play traditional rhythms on a handmade drum. I sucked, but I eventually got it. Here’s the thing: I have always rolled my eyes at drum circles at hippie nonsense…but I liked it. It was fun. A good reminder to be open to new experiences.

From there I walked to the Makola market and poked around. At this point though I was super hot and tired, so I soon caught a taxi to the Osu area, which is a little more upscale (in the broadest sense of the word). I went to a fancy ish restaurant on a leafy patio and ate my fill of bean stew, plantains, and ginger/pineapple juice.

I saw some wonderful street art on the way.

I was still pretty worn out, so I decided to catch a tro tro back to my hostel. Tro tros are the main local transport; packed mini vans that pick up people when flagged. They drive around shouting their route out the windows. I got out at a familiar land mark and walked the last few blocks.

I spent the evening at my hostel, though I did venture out for some dinner, from a wooden table with a small fire for cooking. I got a generous portion of fried rice, vegetables, and salad for about $1.75.

It was a great day. Certainly there is much more to see in Accra, but I saw what I liked. Pleasantly, it was all hassle-free. I decided that evening to spend my second day seeing the Cape Coast.

Africa Ghana West Africa Trip 2019

Arrival in Accra

Landing in a new country often a bit stressful. Will I get hassled? Will my visa be issued? Etc. Ghana was no problem. I had gotten my visa ahead of time. I filled out the form at the border, gave a photo and my fingerprints. No questions were asked. The best part was that right in between immigration and baggage, and visible to both sections, a live jazz band was playing! You aren’t allowed to take photos in the airport, so I can’t prove it, but it was so pleasant. A wonderful welcome to the country.

(A little visa tip: on the application you will need your flight & hotel bookings, a LOI from the hotel and the ID of the hotel manager, which they should provide to you. What is tricky is that you need two personal references or contacts in Ghana. Obviously I didn’t have that, so I just put 1) the name of the hostel manager, and 2) the name of the Canadian ambassador to Ghana. I don’t know that person but their address in Ghana is public info and, I mean, they probably could vouch for me as a Canadian if asked. Anyway, it worked.)

Outside was a mass of people waiting with signs. No one was expecting me. I figured I would be harassed by taxi drivers, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t even figure out who they were. I ended up asking a security guard who flagged someone down for me.

It was almost 10:00 pm at this point so I went straight to my hostel and stayed put.

As we approached the hostel, which is in the Kokomlele neighbourhood I saw they people were still out cooking and selling food on the roadsides. A few little kiosks were open selling drinks, chips, toilet paper, etc. People were hanging out. It was quite dark but it felt good. Active; not desolate or unsafe.

I chatted with the friendly taxi driver. A bonus of visiting Ghana is that it is an English speaking country, so it is easy to get by. Locals will often speak one or more of the 200+ local languages when talking together, but for me it was all English.

I was staying at the “Somewhere Nice” hostel (who also provided me the needed letter of invitation for my visa). I can’t recommend them enough. Great location and hang out areas both outside and in. A pool. Great breakfast. Etc. I stayed in a private room. There are dorms, but I was too old (!) to stay in them. Whatever. I’d rather have my own room anyway.

I spent the next hour sitting by the pool under tree canopy with a cigar and a cup of tea relaxing and chatting with a couple of people from Sweden who were here for work and study.

And there you have it: arrival in Ghana. I’ll end this here. The next day deserves its own post.

Europe Netherlands West Africa Trip 2019

Layover in Amsterdam

I landed in Amsterdam en route from Vancouver to Accra. I had only a 7 hour layover (it should have been 8, but snow in Minnesota delayed us). A layover in Amsterdam is always a great idea. Immigration is a breeze and the train whisks you directly from the airport to the Centraal area in 15 minutes.

It was early when I arrived. Still dark, but it was a perfect time to walk along the canals as the sun came up. It was December 1st. The streets were misty and the Christmas lights were out. Not much was open and the streets were mostly empty and quiet. Even the windows in the red light district were empty.

I happily walked along bundled up in outerwear i would discard before going back to the airport (no need of a jacket, gloves, and toque in Ghana) and took pictures.

I hadn’t been to Amsterdam in 12 years so its sights ere familiar and welcome. Amsterdam was the first place I ever went to in Europe, outside of the UK, 24 years ago, so it has a special place in my memory.

By 9am i was at the Rijksmuseum, just as it opened. There was a special exhibit on Rembrandt and Velázquez I decided to see. It was wonderful.

I took a quick turn through another few rooms and stopped by the library.

At 11am I walked back to the Centraal area, the streets now lively, and had a coffee and sandwich at a cute, tiny cafe before heading back to the airport. I was in the city for about 5 of my 7 hours. It was perfect.

On my way back into the train station, i stripped off my winter wear, and left it near a couple of homeless guys sleeping in the station. Next stop would be Accra.

Bulgaria Europe

Rila Monastery, Bulgaria

Having seen the sites of Sofia on my first day, I decided to go to see what is one of Bulgaria’s most famous sites – the Rila Monastery – on my second day. It is a couple hours outside of the city. It is possible t get there by public transit, but there didn’t seem to be any seamless options and there was an infrequency of public buses so I decided to book one of the many tour mini-buses that takes people from Sofia to the Boyana Church, to Rila Monastery and back again. Hassle free.

It was good in most respects. I saw two wonderful sites I could not have easily seen on my own, I saw a bit of the countryside, and relaxed on the ride. The way in which it was not so good was the incessant talking of the guide. She talked the whole way to the monastery. She told us the population of every town we passed, which region was settled when, the elevation of mountains, how many types of wild goats there were.
…It was so boring. I wanted to shoot myself. There was a lot of historical information being shared, but it was the most dull of trivia amounting to what happened when. I eventually opted for podcasts on my headphones. (And I like historical trivia.) Oh, and at the start of the trip she made each of us introduce ourselves to the rest of the group. (I wish I had a picture of my face at that moment.) Not really my cup of tea, but everything else was good.

We stopped at Boyana Church, a UNESCO blessed medieval church filled with colourful murals. It was lovely and I did enjoy the brief explanation about the various saints and painting styles. No photos were allowed inside, but it is worth a google.

We finally arrived at Rila Monastery, surrounded by glorious fall foliage. It was raining, but that did nothing to detract from the beauty of the buildings.

Such an interesting combination of colours, geometric patterns, and religious murals. I took A Lot of pictures. Inside the church it was guilded ornamentation, though no photos were allowed.

*Man selling souvenirs at Rila Monastery*

After wandering around for a while, I went and had lunch as a cosy stone restaurant just outside the monastery with a roaring fire. I had a shopska salad and yogurt with honey and walnuts. (They are very proud of their yogurt in Bulgaria. Apparently it has some kind of magical enzymes unique to Bulgaria. It is very good. I wish I could do a taste test with the King of Curds yogurt in Bhaktapur.)

Then we drove back to the city. Pleasantly listening to Bulgarian traditional music en route.

Back at the city I decided to walk in search of another cigar lounge. It turned out to be a very posh neighbourhood. The kind with embassies and restaurants that serve only caviar. I did eventually find the cigar lounge but was told that I could not smoke inside as I would have to register and that would take months. I feel like my appearance may not have been to their liking. (To be fair, I hadn’t showered.) I was a little grumpy about being turned away, but it was so beautiful out, walking in the dark through crispy leaves past cute little bistros. I walked back to Vitoska Boulevard where I enjoyed a glass of Bulgarian red wine, a vegan pizza, and two cigars.

And that was Sofia. The next morning I took the metro back to the airport and three flights later I was back at home.

I really liked what I saw of Bulgaria. It was just a small taste, but it was good and I left feeling satisfied. I know that I will return to some naysayers who will go on about how a weekend is not enough time to see a country (of course it isn’t but it is enough to see something), but I had an amazing time and will probably do it again.

Bulgaria Europe

Sofia, Bulgaria

Ever since I did my first international long weekend trip (Mexico City, last year) I have been experimenting with these micro trips. Where is possible in four days? I’ve also done four-day to El Salvador, Havana, and Panama City, but when I saw a low cost flight to London the night before the Remembrance Day long weekend, I thought, why not Europe?

To clarify, I live in Vancouver, so Europe is pretty far, but if I can fly when I would otherwise be sleeping, I could manage at least 2 days and 3 nights in my destination. Not bad.

I’ll spare you the process by which I picked Sofia, Bulgaria (let’s just say it involved a spreadsheet), but I did pick Sofia, and that is how I came to spend my long weekend in Bulgaria. At present I am flying home and feeling pretty pleased with myself.

I landed in Sofia at 10:50pm on Friday, having flown from Vancouver to London to Sofia. No hassles at the airport, I exchanged some Euros into Bulgarian Levs and was at the metro station by 11:15. The metro is right at Terminal 2 and will take you right to the historical centre (starting from Serdica station) which is where you should be going if you’re traveling for pleasure. The train ends at the airport, so it is impossible to get on the wrong train, leaving the airport. What it is possible to do is foolishly pay for your 1.60 Lev ticket in the machine with a 20 Lev note, as I did, and get ALL your change in 10 cent coins, as I did. It was like a slot machine. I spent the rest of the next day paying for things with my sack of coins. (As I turned around from the machine, I saw a lady at a window from whom I could have bought a ticket.)

I arrived at Serdica station and walked to Hostel Mostel. I booked a private room, which was $30 cdn a night, in a great location,and included free breakfast and free dinner, and other added bonuses like free walking tours and pub crawls daily. The dorms are an even better bargain. It is kind of a legendary hostel and I can say it deserves its reputation.

Anyway, I went to bed, which was tough because walking from the metro, then almost midnight, the streets, bars, and restaurants were lively. But I had sightseeing planned for the next day.

Sofia is perfect for a weekend city break. It is beautiful, cheap, and all of its wonderful sites are clustered close together in the historic centre. I set out after breakfast a about 8 am and by 3 pm I had pretty much seen what I wanted to see and spent the rest of the day wandering a bit more aimlessly and leisurely.

*Krystal Garden monument to Stefan Stambolov*

Sofia has some truly stunning churches and they are all free to visit as they are not relics; they are active places of worship. I think all of the churches I visited were in the midst of a service, with prayer and singing swirling with the candle and incense smoke. I tried to pretend I was entering as a worshiper, crossing myself in the orthodox way, but I don’t think anyone was buying it.

Of course, the highlight was Alexander Nevsky Cathedral which I walked circles around, taking pictures – lots of pictures – trying to find just the right angles and taking several wholly unsuccessful selfies.

Some churches did not allow photos inside, but I was happy to be able to capture a few of the warm interiors, with their beautiful paintings. (The Alexander Nevsky Cathedral charges I think 7 Lev for a photo permit, but the kiosk to buy the permit was closed when I was there so I just snapped a few shots surreptitiously.)

And it wasn’t just churches; mosques and synagogues represented with equally compelling architecture.

The streets of central Sofia are lined with imposing and impressive buildings, which made just wandering around a delight.

Even the main street that passed through all these architectural riches was delightful. An actual yellow brick road.

I browsed at a small flea market, which had many icons and antiques. I found a few cigarette boxes that looked interesting at first, only to discover that they had swastikas on them. There was a lot of Nazi trinkets for sale there along side old trumpets, cameras, and opera glasses. I walked away empty handed.

The weather was perfect. In the mid high teens (Celsius) and sunny. I had to take my jacket off whilst sitting on a patio.

I hit a couple of eateries. A cafe and a proper restaurant. I tried a banista, the traditional cold yogurt soup (tarator), and berkova livtivka, a spread made mostly of local white cheese and super hot peppers. All pretty good. There are loads of inviting bakeries, cafes, food kiosks, and restaurants, but with only two days there is only so much eating I can do.

Everyone I encountered was friendly. Many people spoke no English, but usually there would be someone around who could assist where my phrasebook failed me. I did practice some Bulgarian phrases, which the security guard at the crypt museum was happy to help me with. Oh, yes, I went to the crypt museum at the Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, which was pleasant but in my opinion one could skip it, unless you have a bottomless appetite for 17th and 18th century icons. There are so many on display in the churches anyway.

I walked up to the “ladies market”, which is just an outdoor market selling fruits and vegetables, honey, nuts, and an assortment of household goods, like brooms and blankets. The market was thoroughly skippable, but I had some extra time, though the walk there was more interesting than the market itself.

I did see a little bit of street art en route.

Finally i strolled Vitoshka Boulevard, a pedestrian street link with busy restaurants and mediocre shops. As night it is a swell place to go for a bite and despite smoking being banned inside, smoking outside is fine, so I was happy to grab a table and people watch the next night

*Statue of Aleko Konstantinov, lawyer, writer, founder of tourism in Bulgaria*

On my first evening however, I opted to grab a cheap slice of pizza and head over to La Casa del Habano for a couple of cigars, including a regional Bulgarian edition Bolivar. If you smoke cigars, it’s pretty cool. Trust me.

And that was day one. The only thing I would have done differently knowing what I know now, is I would have skipped the market and the walk to the cultural centre and the stroll down Vitoshka (because I’d end up there anyway), and instead taken transit to the museum of communist art. But that is a small quibble. It was a perfect day; I saw the highlights of Sofia and was ready to venture outside of the city the next day.

Central America / Caribbean Panama

El Chorrillo

On my third and final full day in Panama City began with a good walk. Had I not scheduled a walking tour for 1pm I would have gone to the Metropolitan Park, which looks amazing – a big rainforest just north of the city centre with wildlife and hiking trails. But I didn’t have time, so while I was having coffee at the hostel one of the workers suggested I hike up the Ancon hill. It turned out to be an excellent idea.

I left the hotel and walked up Avenue Central outside the Casco Viejo into another neighbourhood. A few blocks and the area changed utterly. Casco Viejo is beautiful, but it is quiet and a little sanitized. The locals were basically relocated when the restoration occurred and so it all feels a bit artificial. Old Havana is similar in that it is colourful, touristy, and has been restored, but Old Havana still has locals living there so it is lively. Casco Viejo is not. But this new area was totally alive. People selling bananas and onions, lottery tickets and newspapers. Shops and restaurants busy with local people. None of them fancy, but busy. In the square that I passed people were hanging out, kids running around, music loudly playing.

The buildings in this area are mostly not so attractive as they were (I learned later that day) bombed and rebuilt, or bombed and left as shells during the American invasion of 20 December 1989, which is a date still spray painted around the area for remembrance.

There was still lots of street art, including one painted of two women painted on the shell of a former church.

I walked down Avenue Central until I saw the McDonalds on the right and took a left, walking about a block until I saw a small monument to the riots of 1964 wherein some high school students tried to take down the American flag and erect the Panamanian flag. A riot broke out and American soldiers killed a number of students. On the concrete walls along the highway that I crossed were murals honouring the event, including portraits of some of those killed.

From there I followed a snaking street past a hospital and fancy gated houses until the path up the mountain revealed itself. (If you are making this walk, just follow the road. It will seem like you’ve missed a turn off, but it will come. The signage just is not great until you have arrived.) Climbing up gave good views over the city with glimpses of skyline and tiled roofs, cemetery and harbour. Lots of families and ambitious cyclists were making the same ascent.

Half way back down it started to rain. Tropical, aggressive rain. Fortunately, I had an umbrella. Unfortunately it dod nothing but keep the water off my face and by the time I got back to town I was soaked. I spent the spent 30 minutes or so haggling to buy dry shoes.

Later that day I met with Victor who runs walking tours through his company PTY Local. This particular walk was through the El Chorrillo neighbourhood, known for being dangerous and poor. Indeed, my taxi driver had told me firmly never to walk there. I had already walked there a little bit and it seemed fine, but I wanted to see a bit more and learn a bit about the neighbourhood so I took this walking tour. I am so glad I did.

The tour was great. Victor was great company and explained about the history of El Chorrillo, Casco Viejo, and other neighbourhoods through dictators, invasion, gangs, and tourists. We walked around seeing murals and markets and meeting local people.

Victor also took us to the police station to learn about a program he started to keep kids off the streets and out of gangs. We chatted with people paying passionate games of dominos, playing music, and just hanging around, listening to music and having a drink. I was great. At the end Victor and I had dinner at the Coca Cola cafe, which had a pleasant diner feel and was cheap.

It was nice to have the company, but I really appreciated seeing other areas and knowing there is more beyond the boundaries of Casco Viejo.

I didn’t do much that evening. Went for dinner, read my book, had a cigar. And the next day I was home (via a super brief visit to Mexico City).

Panama City was a great weekend break. There wasn’t too much I wanted to do, so I left feeling satisfied, but also rested.

I like these little city breaks between longer vacations. It’s such a good way to see places that I have only a passing curiosity in or that only take a few days to see. And what would I do if I stayed home? Work? I’ll take Panama.

Central America / Caribbean Panama

Panama Canal

On my second day in Panama City I was met at my hostel at 8am by Ana, the taxi driver I met the day before. We were heading to the Panama Canal. Honestly, I was not excited to see the canal. I figured it would be boring – an engineering marvel no doubt, but not an interesting sight. But I also felt like I couldn’t go to Panama and not see the Canal. Surely they will ask me when I leave the country if I saw the Canal, and if I say no, I will not be allowed to leave.

The Miraflores locks are not far from Panama City. It costs $20 to go to the observation area and visit the museum. (You used to be able to go to a bar and get a drink and watch for free but they put an end to that.) Fortunately, just when I got there there was a large ship and a small boat passing through. Had there been no vessels to see, I do think it would have been dull. Like, really dull. But seeing ships pass through was actually, surprisingly, interesting. Really.

The museum is pretty good too, as it explains how the locks work and about the history, which I previously knew nothing about. So it was good.

From there I asked Ana just to drive me around. There really aren’t many sites in Panama City I was interested in, at least not enough to make an effort to get to or the time to explore, but I was happy to see some areas. We stopped at a market selling crafts.

We drove out to an area of cafes and whatnot to take in the view of the new city and have some shaved ice.

We took obligatory pictures in front of the Panama sign.

We drove through the new city to look at the high rises where the rich people live.

Along the way, Ana told me about some history and different areas. She played me local salsa music and sang along. It was a good time. I didn’t see anything amazing, but it was pleasant.

I was back at my hostel a little after noon. For the rest of the day I walked around and found a few new areas, but ultimately I ended up having a cigar in a square before dinner and a cigar on a plaza, listening to jazz music and relaxing. As I often do, I had ideas of going out to a bar or a night spot, but I was tired and asleep by 10pm.