Wandering North

Around the World 2022 Asia Saudi Arabia

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

It was a trip to Bangladesh that led me to travel to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. I was going to fly through there anyway, but why not spend a couple of days? But Jeddah was already and recently on my radar. For many years I wrote off Saudi Arabia as a travel destination altogether. Too repressive of women and their government seemed too … problematic. But over the years I travelled to so many other countries with problematic human rights and social policies that why single out this one country as a no-go zone? And over time, Saudi Arabia did lift some of their laws. They allowed women some more freedoms and put in place a tourist visa program that actually welcomes tourists, so the time seemed right to visit.

Saudi Arabia is, of course, huge, but the only bits that appeal to me are the desert ruins and Jeddah. The desert ruins I would have to see on a tour (I don’t drive & there isn’t adequate public transportation) but a couple days in Jeddah seemed like a good way to see something of the country.

I had booked my flight to Jeddah where I would spend three nights and two full days. Not a lot of time, but as it turned out, just the right amount. (I have already posted about the flights and visas for this round the world trip on another post.)

I arrived in Saudi Arabia from Vancouver via stops in London and Cairo. While I waited to board my flight, I noticed all of the signage for Mecca. Jeddah is the closest airport to Mecca and my flight was full of people making their pilgrimage. Many were dressed in specific white robes that they are required to wear before passing a certain boundary around Mecca, called miqaat or miqat. On the flight there was an announcement 15 minutes before passing this boundary so the pilgrims could prepare themselves and recite certain prayers. I’ve never had that on a flight before. It felt a little weird sitting inches away from people engaging in a religious ritual while I watched some random horror movie on my seat back.

I landed in Jeddah and, having already secured my e-visa, I entered into the country without issue. I changed some Euros into Riyal at the airport and got a taxi. It was all quite easy.

I had booked myself into the Red Sea Palace Hotel. There are no hostels in Jeddah that I could find. There are a ton of very fancy (and expensive) hotels. I picked the Red Sea Palace Hotel because it was right by the old city, Al-Balad, which was the area I was interested in. Most of the fancy hotels are in a fancy area quite far away and that area did not appeal to me at all. My hotel was fine. Clean and comfortable and not too pricy, though still more than I prefer to spend. The location was perfect.

It was in an area that was older and had a lot of restaurants and a market and was basically across the street from Al-Balad, the historic centre.

*me in the morning, while I still looked presentable*

Al-Balad, a UNESCO site, is this lovely and intriguing area founded in the 7^th C but filled will beautiful buildings from about the 1600s. Many of them have been restored and many are currently under restoration. Others are still dilapidated. They are mostly a few stories tall and feature balconies with colorful wooden screens, designed to provide shade from the punishing sun and also protection to women from the gaze of people outside of their households.

It is a lovely place to explore and it very photogenic. I loved it, but was a bit disappointed by how quiet it was. There are some shops and cafes in Al-Balad, but most didn’t open until late in the day, and at all times it was just quiet. I understood from people I talked to that because it was August and so hot that people weren’t so inclined to hang out. Things got busier in the evening, but still, there were not a lot of people around. After all, Saudi Arabia is not a poor country where you would be more likely to find people crowding outdoor cafes in the evenings to escape the heat. People have houses and AC and seem to prefer to frequent the fancier restaurants and malls in the newer areas. That said, I did find some places to enjoy a tea and a bit to eat and there were some people out playing backgammon and visiting, but it was far from lively.

In Al-Balad, apparently, there are some small house museums one can visit, but they seemed to be open only to people on tours, were difficult to find, and when I did find them they were just closed. I did find one art gallery in an old, large house. It was free, contained some lackluster paintings and I was the only person there.

The areas just around Al-Balad were more energetic. There were shops and markets. People hard at work selling textiles and spices, butchering meat, or making hookahs.

*Shops and streets around the historic centre*

My first day was spent exploring these areas. I finished the day having Indonesian food and Wong Solo, a popular restaurant near my hotel. That atmosphere was lacking but the food was excellent.

The next day I decided to see a bit of the sea and what lay beyond the historic centre. I caught a taxi and had it drive me quite a ways up the corniche and drop me off. I decided to walk back. As you head north everything is quite modern. Big malls, hotels, restaurants, and commercial centres. None of it appealed to me. Plus, it is very car-centric. Long distances between things, big busy streets, and not a lot of charm.

I decided to walk back along the corniche, along the sea. The sea is lovely of course, but it was hot. And humid. I walked for miles, with little to stop and enjoy apart from a pretty white mosque. I took refuge in a Starbucks – a place I would usually avoid, but it was just so hot. I needed refuge and there was not much else around.

The heat was increased by what I was wearing. Saudi Arabia does not require that women wear abayas, but you need to be covered at least to the elbows and knees. That said, I realized right away that wearing an abaya is the way to go. I found that if I didn’t wear one – even if I was fully covered, I was not treated as well as when I was wearing an abaya and headscarf. So I wore leggings, a long-sleeved, light shirt, a long black abaya and a headscarf. I looked ok, but I was sweltering. I guess that is part of the reason why I saw so few people walking.

*Me in the lobby of my hotel dressed to go out. Headscarf in my bag.*

I felt like an outsider. Aside from a few conversations conversations, I didn’t find the people to be super welcoming and felt like I was at arm’s length from really experiencing the culture. I think visiting places outside of the major cities would be a different experience. I should say that the were people who I did engage with were very nice. One two occasions, people just came up to me on the street and gave me bottles of water. The man who was making hookahs in his shop invited me to watch and take photos. The coffee kiosk in a small square was busy with construction workers who went out of their way to make sure I got what I needed and had a shady spot to sit. Most people did not speak English, but their gestures and efforts told me they were kind and hospitable.

While I didn’t love my walk down the corniche, I did like Jeddah, but specifically the area in and around Al-Balad.

I had an excellent meal at Foul Fattah, a popular local restaurant on the edge of Al-Balad that served up delicious breakfasts of foul and hummus and fresh flat bread with spicy pickled peppers, and had some of the friendliest people I met in Jeddah.

I spent both of my evenings enjoying cigars and cool beverages in amongst the buildings of Al-Balad.

I had worried that two days might not be enough. They were. I had a good time and while there was more I could have done, I was happy with what I saw and glad I went. That said, I didn’t love it. It was interesting and Al-Balad was beautiful, but the vibe or soul of it wasn’t for me. In some ways I feel bad saying that, but in other ways, it is kind of a welcome change to not always be gushing about how ‘amazing’ my travel destinations are. This is, after all, just an account of my experiences.

I would go back to Saudi Arabia, but only if I were going to see some of its amazing-looking desert vistas and historical ruins outside of the cities. It would be interesting to visit some small towns and engage with people more. I’m not at the stage where I am re-visiting many places, but maybe someday.

I left Jeddah at an ungodly hour on a flight to my next destination, one I was eagerly anticipating: Dhaka, Bangladesh.

Around the World 2022 Asia Bangladesh Saudi Arabia Singapore

Planning for a short ’round the world trip

Trying to decide where to travel next is not a science for me. I don’t have a process or a list of criteria. A place will just start to become interesting to me through something I read or saw, and usually it will be a place that is far away geographically and culturally from the last place I went. So I can’t say why exactly, but I decided I wanted to visit Dhaka, Bangladesh. It had been on my radar for a while. It looked crowded and exciting and intense. I decided to go.

Bangladesh is very far from Vancouver. Multiple stops would be required and when I was doing my flight research, I saw that a number of the flights went through Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, somewhere else I had never been. I also found that several of the flights back to Vancouver took me through east Asia, and many through Singapore, another new-to-me destination.

This is how my ‘round the world’ flight itinerary was built. I decided to spend two full days in Jeddah, four full days in Dhaka, and two full days in Singapore: starting in and returning to Vancouver. (Plus making connections in London, Cairo, and Tokyo.) It seemed like a great opportunity to see three places in one go and circle the globe in one trip. Saying ‘yes’ was an easy decision.

Of course, a trip like that requires a bit of planning. I worked out the flights (all separate; not a ‘round the world’ ticket) and then needed to sort the visas. The visa for Saudi Arabia was easy to get: an expensive and instantaneous e-visa. The visa for Bangladesh was a different story, being one that required an application to be made by mail or in person with loads of supporting documents and a fee. It also required several follow ups by email and several recitations by email of things already provided in the application. It always amazes me when countries that have very low levels of interest from tourists make it exceedingly difficult to visit. Singapore welcomed me without hassle.

I booked my accommodations. A proper hotel in Jeddah, a cute guest house in Dhaka, and a capsule hostel in Singapore.

I devoured guidebooks and blog posts, studied my maps, and tried to memorize some basic phrases (many of which I quickly forgot).

I packed my backpack with two outfits suitable for all three destinations, plus an abaya for Saudi Arabia, and cigars to last the trip.

It came together quickly. I was so excited. All around the world to visit three very different destinations.

I don’t often write planning posts, but this was an ambitious itinerary and I have gotten a lot of questions about how I picked the countries and why I chose them, about the visas and the packing. So there you have it.

Onward to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia.

Europe Germany Riga Long Weekend

Munich Layover – Part Two

Six hours in Munich. That was my opportunity as I flew home from my long weekend in Latvia. Never one to leave a crumb of vacation on the table, I decided I would again head into the city, just as I had three days prior. This time, though, I was more efficient (and did not get lost looking for the entrance to the S-Bahn).

Getting out of the station at Marionplatz, this time I turned left instead of right and wandered down a big pedestrian street, popping into a café and a church (the Frauenkirche).

The boulevard was busy with leisure seekers, sipping coffee and shopping. Buskers staked out their places – my favourite being a young kid playing an upright piano with the skill of a trained classical composer. I watched him for some time and was dismayed by all the people who video recorded him and did not give him a cent. I over tipped him, which both compensated his talents and made me feel like a superior person in comparison to those who gave nothing. (I’m sure there are plenty of time I don’t give money, but this time I did.) Money well spent.

I popped into a bright yellow church: the Theatin Church of St. Cajetan (built in the late 1600s). I’ll pretty much poke my head into any old church. I generally know they will either be dull or beautiful and occasionally they will be jaw-droppingly opulent, like many of the orthodox churches in Russia. This was something else. While the outside was brightly hued the inside was a monochromatic pale grey. It was extremely decorative in its carved ornamentation, but every bit is it was this pale grey. It looked like someone just turned the color off and left it in monochrome, like an optical trick. I thought it was extraordinary.

*interior of the Theatin Church of St. Cajetan*

Feeling elevated by the street music and the architectural design I set off to see some visual arts at the Haus der Kunst, which was a pleasant walk through a park.

The Haus der Kunst was built by the Nazis to show its collection of dull, rural, Aryan art, but now features art that represents diverse groups and challenges. I hadn’t been there before, but picked it because it is fairly small, so it seemed perfect for my short stopover.

I don’t know what they normally show, but when I was there, they had all installations – light, sound, and fog. Many years ago when I first heard of a light or sound art installation, it thought it was stupid. Some kind of pretentious scam. I later realized they are legitimate and can be amazing. But when I heard of a fog installation, again, my first reaction was scepticism. “That sounds stupid,” I thought, as I entered a large, high-ceilinged room with a long pool of water down the centre and taking up most of the floor space. We all stood around, waiting, then there was an almost imperceptible sound. Was it a rumble or a tone? And then fog started to rise from one end of the pool and it rolled in a controlled way down the pool to the other end, filling the room with haze until the figures around me nearly disappeared. Subtle lighting gave everything a blue-green tint. It was eerie and beautiful and menacing. And then it was over. I was converted. I know it sounds stupid, but it was great. (I should say that the artist is Fujiko Nakaya from Japan and this is what she does.)

There were also excellent installations where record players on pedestals filled a room and randomly turned on when a shaft of light fell on them and each would play its record, each of which was a soundscape of a different city. Calls to prayer, traffic, overlapping conversations.

Another favourite was a room then enveloped the viewed in a swirl of sounds and words.

The experience of all of these things left me feeling full of emotion and conviction that art (be it music, writing, architecture, or even bloody fog) is the most important thing we do and makes the world a better place. I mean, I do feel this way generally, but sometimes i get kind of swept up in it all.

With my heart full and spirit uplifted, I made my way back to the train station and the airport and returned with plenty of time of time. I understand why one might not like to leave the airport with a six-hour layover, and this may seem obvious, but I am amazed at what one can do and experience in such a short time. It was a wonderful end to my already great Latvian long weekend and left me feeling satisfied. I would be happy to see more in Munich, but I can’t believe all I enjoyed in my two layovers.

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Riga: The Historic Centre and Beyond

I had the morning to myself on the second day and wasn’t quite sure what to do, but the decision was made for me a bit when I awoke to blue skies.

The previous day had been grey. Now, with this improved backdrop, Riga looked even more beautiful and so I walked around many of the same streets I had the day before and took new pictures. This included taking pictures of the famous ‘Three Brothers’.

The Three Brothers are three dwelling buildings built right next to each other, each built in a successive century (more or less) between 1490 and each built by men from the same family. (Not sure about the veracity of that latter claim, but that the story.) They are amongst the oldest in the city. The buildings are interesting and photogenic but I did note that while every picture I saw of them on Instagram depicted them as being technicolor, in reality their colors (yellow, green, and white) are very muted. They are very cute and a have a fairy tale quality I thought.

I walked over to the House of the Blackheads, which was originally built in the early 14^th C as a house for single men who were members of the Brotherhood of the Blackheads guild. It was entirely rebuilt after being destroyed in WWII. This is a fact that was a bit of a disappointment to learn. Like wandering the old town of Warsaw, for example, I am left thinking: this is beautiful and I am thankful to see it, but it’s just a copy. It could be Disneyland. It was open to the public and I went in. It is worth a visit but honestly the interior pales in comparison to the crazy beautiful exterior. And the history, which includes that it was the site for the first ever decorated Christmas tree in about 1510. There is a fact that I plan to pedantically pull out at some future time to the mild interest of my conversational companion.

I had a coffee and a snack and met up with my tour guide for the afternoon.

I had booked, the night before, a private tour of ‘alternative Riga’. There are loads of free walking tours of Riga, but I really wanted to get out of the city centre, and I didn’t feel like trudging along at a glacial pace with a bunch of strangers that I would judge harshly the moment any of them asked a stupid question. That’s how I felt on that day anyhow. So I booked a walking tour where I could have a guide all to myself and see what I wanted to. It was the best decision I made that weekend.

I booked it through E.A.T. Riga. My guide, Arturs, was great. We got along and I appreciated his knowledge and his sense of humour. He walked me out of the centre to the Jewish Ghetto area, telling me tales of Riga though the wars, highlighting the experiences of the Jewish community, immigrants, outcasts, political figures, and ne’er-do-wells. In doing this, we walked through neighbourhoods that were formerly sketchy but had recovered and were just becoming a bit cool, with great coffee shops and neighbourhood bars.

We visited a sort of artist hang out yard (sort of a hippy vibe), saw some graffiti, and an installation of a giant fox, meant to draw attention to the cruelty of the fur industry.

We wrapped it up by having a bite to eat in a little backyard restaurant in a mostly residential neighbourhood. A few of Arturs’ friends came by and joined us and we hung out for a while. It was great. Not planned, and probably my favour thing I did in Riga.

We parted ways and I walked back to the old city, taking a detour to visit this excellent anti-Vladimir Putin banner that as hung on a museum directly facing the Russian Embassy. I spent the evening walking around, soaking up the evening atmosphere, and looking for a bookstore/bar that I never found.

Riga was great. I really liked it and felt comfortable there. I left really early the next morning and flew back to Vancouver via Munich again, where I enjoyed an excellent layover in the city. Of all of these international long weekends I have done from Vancouver (not including those in the States), Riga ranks highly. Maybe top three. Mexico City is still my favourite, I think. If money was no object, I think I would visit a new city every long weekend. More to come in the future.

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Latvia Long Weekend – Riga day one

I landed in Riga, Latvia very late. Past midnight. I would get just a few hours of sleep before getting up early to see the city. No time for sleeping in or having leisurely breakfasts. I had flown to Riga for a long weekend. From Vancouver. Not the sort of trip with time for relaxation built in.

As I said in my previous post, I didn’t know much about Latvia. Riga just seemed like a nice place to spend two and half days, the architecture looked pretty, and, well, what a great opportunity to learn something about a place I knew little about.

I took a taxi from the airport to the old town centre, to my hostel, the Blue Bird Hostel. I let myself in with a key code and snuggled into my bunk bed, careful not to wake my sleeping roommates.

In the morning, I went outside and began to explore.

Riga’s old city centre is stunning. So are the centres of many European capitals, but this one really stands out. Gracefully curving streets lined with colorful buildings, often adorned with decorative paintings or whimsical flourishes. There is, for example, a building that is yellow with turrets and at the top of each is a black cat, arching its back with hostility (a sort of ‘fuck you’ to a particular guild that had denied entry to the owner of the building.). Another has a statue of a German Shepherd standing guard over the roof.

The place is a delight and a dream to take pictures of. And because it is touristy, you don’t feel weird taking pictures of streets and shops and whatnot, the way I sometimes do when I am the only tourist around and everyone else is just trying to get on with their lives.

There are some museums and galleries here and there, but when I visited, all but one was closed for refurbishment or covid. No matter: the streets were the main attraction.

I stopped for coffees at cute little cafes and went in search of public art, including a statue of a ghost that, inexplicably, made me uneasy even though it was, you know, a statue. There were tourists wandering about doing a lot of the same things that I was, but the town was far from over run.

Getting outside of the historic centre, the city felt less precious, but the architecture was still awesome. Riga is known for having an impressive display of art nouveau buildings. They are not difficult to find. There are a few streets that are lined, end to end, with these gorgeous buildings. Colorful and decorated with white filigree, often depicting ancient legends, or incorporating imagery like dragons, flowers, and sexy naked people. One of my favorite details were large faces staring out, open mouthed in shock or horror.

*Buildings on and around Alberta Street*

I do feel a teensy bit bad for the people who live in the buildings on Alberta Street, where there must just be an endless parade of tourists snapping selfies in front of the striking structures. (But that concern did not stop me from taking dozens of pictures.)

When you get away from these streets and before plunging back into the confection of the old centre, there are more ordinary streets, but charming in their own right. Modest but appealing old two-level wooden buildings, serious coffee roasters, and graffiti.

I had a coffee at the excellent Rocket Bean Roastery and then decided to seek out the Oak Lounge, a cigar lounge, for a break. (I had been walking for hours without rest.) To my delight, the cigar lounge was across the street. Sweet serendipity. I bought a Bolivar from the modest but reasonably priced selection and settled in with a tea and my cigar. It was early and was quiet. I chatted a bit with a local guy until his friend came to join him. Otherwise, is just smoked and planned my next moves.

I spent the rest of that day continuing to walk around. I walked over through a park lining the Daugava river, visited a grand, orthodox cathedral, and then over to the Riga Cental Market.

The market visit was good. They always are, but this had the bonus of being housed in WWI zeppelin hangars. Yeah. It was cool. I spent time wandering amongst the pickled vegetables and dumplings, fruits, and honey, trying to imagine dirigibles filling the spaces, which then led to me thinking about air ships generally and trying to remember the difference between a dirigible, a blimp, and a zeppelin. (This is, incidentally, something I look up regularly and never seem to remember.)

The area around the market was just a little bit seedy and busy, which was a great antidote to the beauty of the old centre.

Riga was beautiful and I loved it, but you really can see the old city in a half to a full a day. I loved the wandering, but it was not a big area. With the museums closed, before I was finished my first day, I was starting to feel like it was out of things to do, in that area anyway. So I planned a walking tour of ‘alternative Riga’ for the next day.

I had a mediocre meal on an excellent patio before wandering over to the Grand Hotel Kempinski, to enjoy their very fancy cigar lounge. The cigar prices were insane, so I smoked a cigar I brought with me (a Quai d’Orsay) and had a fancy tea service. In the lounge I had a most pleasant conversation with a Norwegian accountant in town for a corporate weekend and nursing a hangover from the previous night’s festivities (strip clubs).

After that I went and had a martini under an umbrella on a patio (it was raining) where I had yet another cigar while chatting with vacationing and moderately intoxicated Brits and Russians.

I had hoped maybe to find someone from my hostel to hang out with, but the people I encountered there were fairly dull and seemed to spend the whole day sleeping and watching Netflix. Dull.

It was a perfectly pleasant Riga day. I was completely satisfied with my first day and looking forward to more.

Europe Germany Riga Long Weekend

Munich Layover Part One

Latvia for a long weekend in May

It was the May long weekend, and I had an extra day off. There was no question that I was going somewhere, but where was the question. For the May four-day weekend in April I went to Malta, which meant that, for variety, I should have gone somewhere other than Europe, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about Latvia. I don’t even know what I was thinking except that 1) the only Baltic country I had been to was Estonia (and that was years ago) and 2) they have incredible art nouveau architecture in Riga. The tipping point in favour of going was when I saw that I could spend a long layover in Munich on either end of the trip, and I hadn’t been to Munich. Flying to Riga for a long weekend from Vancouver isn’t exactly a budget fight for a long weekend, but not terrible and being in Riga is a bargain, so I booked the flight.

Layover in Munich

I was excited to have a layover in Munich – two layovers actually. Six hours each. Long enough to see something of the city. I arrived at about 1:00 pm and power walked my way through the airport, through immigration, where the officer told me, looking through my nearly full passport “you travel too much”, and to the S-Bahn station. (As an aside, this was the final trip that I took with that passport, as it was full – 6 years into its 10-year lifespan. I wear that as a badge of honour.)

The S-1 and the S-8 both go to the city centre of Munich and come every 10 minutes or so. The ride takes about 40 minutes. To save time, I had pre-purchased my train ticket online. (This was not really necessary. I could have bought it from a machine easily, but like I said, it was a 6-hour layover. Every minute counts.)

The Marienplaz Station is the one right in the centre of the old town and coming up the escalator from the station into the sunlight, was a delight. Germany! I was immediately surrounded by beautiful old buildings, street musicians, and throngs of people. It was a hot spring day and even if all I had had time for was a coffee in the square, that would have been satisfying. But I had time for a bit more.

I had done a bit of map review before my flight, so I had a rough plan about where I wanted to walk. I didn’t stray too far from the main square, gawking at the Neues Rathaus (the new town hall) and Alte Rathaus (the old town hall) before walking around the food stalls of the Viktualienmarkt, picking up a perfect sandwich to munch on.

I didn’t linger anywhere too long, but enjoyed wandering around the area, having a coffee, buying a cigar at a little shop, enjoying the architecture, and poking my head into shops and churches.

With a 6-hour layover, I comfortably had 3 hours in the city, so was never totally relaxed. My pace was brisk and I checked the time a lot, but I had a good time and made mental notes (also some actual notes) about what I would do when I returned in 3 days’ time.

I took the train back to the airport where, thankfully, there were no extraordinary queues, and was back in time to duck into a lounge at the airport before boarding my flight to Riga. Next stop: Latvia.

Europe Malta

Easter in Malta

They take Easter seriously in Malta. The population is about 90% Catholic and grand churches are ubiquitous. People actually seem to practice their religion – or at least the holidays. I thought it would be interesting to visit on Easter weekend and take in the celebrations. And it was, although visiting that weekend means a lot of things are closed on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Let me be clear that I am an atheist, but I love visiting religious sites and seeing people in prayer or religious ritual. I try to blend in, but I always feel like my heathen status is apparent. I was also keenly aware of the fact that I had a fresh tattoo of the devil on my left forearm. Thankfully it was long-sleeves weather.

I had arrived on the afternoon of Good Friday. On that day in Valletta there are processions through the city with Christ on the cross carried aloft. Things are closed and there is a solemn air. I missed the processions but caught enough of the solemnity.

On Easter Sunday in Valletta – and in the other cities in Malta – there is a festive atmosphere as processions proclaiming Christ reborn happen. There are parades with statues of Christ risen carried through the streets and then people run through the city carrying the Christ statues. I had to see that.

The problem is, it is very difficult to get any information about when these processions start. I thought it might be in the morning, so I went out early, walking around and luring around various churches and squares, drinking coffees. The day was sunny, and I was happy to hang around, even if I had seen most of the sights the previous day.

One thing I hadn’t yet seen was the interior of Saint John’s Co-Cathedral, a massive church in the centre. I got there just before it opened and there was already a big queue (not sure if that is an Easter thing or a regular thing). The queue moved fast though, and I was led into the crowded, but ornate interior. It was worth the wait.

Saint John’s Co-Cathedral (Kon-Katidral ta’ San Ġwann in Maltese) is a church built in the 1570s. It has a relatively simple exterior and a glorious, Baroque interior. Every inch is covered in glided design and ornamentation. Some of the chapels have paintings by Caravaggio and there is a small but lovely crypt. Definitely worth visiting, even if if i had to elbow my way past the crowds.

I poked around various churches and caught a bit of an Ethiopian service where people were dressed like the pilgrims I had seen in Lalibela, Ethiopia. I watched through the door of an orthodox service and caught a bit of a Catholic one.

As it turned out the processions started in the afternoon. I found the church where people and marching band members were congregating, and I waited. Finally, a palanquin with a huge statue of Christ was brought out of the Church by a group of young men in white robes who carried it on their shoulders. And it began.

The procession was headed by a series of…religious guys. I want to say they were priests, but I feel like they had higher titles, but I don’t really know. They were dressed in fancy robes and headdresses, some carrying ornate staffs, some swinging thuribles burning incense. One guy was dressed in red robes with a comical grey wig. I have no idea who he was, but he seemed important, even if he looked silly. Following the statue was a marching band and then hundreds of people.

They paraded through the city. I followed along and sometimes got ahead of it to take pictures. It ended at Saint John’s Co-Cathedral, where Christ was taken inside and then brought out again as bells rang. After that, the running with Christ started.

It was an interesting spectacle.

After all that was done, I wandered around a bit more as it got dark and then settled in for a late dinner of pasta, a perfect negroni, and a cigar on a quiet street where jazz was playing. It was cold, but I didn’t mind.

My time in Malta was at an end, as I flew home in the morning. I liked Valletta. It didn’t satisfy that part of my that craves adventure, but it was beautiful, pleasant, and I did feel like participating in the Easter festivities gave it a special flavour, even for a heathen like me.

Europe Malta

Malta Long Weekend

The Plan

I had an extra day off work on Easter weekend, which gave me four clear days off. I canvassed my list of possible international trip ideas for a four day weekend and decided on Malta. It looked lovely, it is tiny, and it isn’t packed with too many sights for a couple of days. Plus, it was Easter weekend, which meant processions and ceremony. Done. I booked the flight.

An overnight trip from Vancouver to Frankfurt, a short connection, and a flight to Valletta. I left Thursday after work and was in a taxi heading to my accommodations on Friday afternoon. Like magic.

Arrival in Valletta

Malta is a couple of small islands in the Mediterranean, just south of Sicily. It is a country. A beautiful island micro country, like a tiny jewel in a magnificent setting. A few fun facts about Malta: they speak English by and large but they have their own language which is Maltese, which seems like is a mix of Italian and Arabic, but then there are unique letters like an H with an extra line through it. Interesting.

Malta is immediately impressive. In that first taxi ride, the sun was up and it was stunning to see that light reflecting off of the sand coloured buildings and churches that lined the hilly streets, which led to the sea in every direction. Domed churches, clusters of cemeteries red, blue and green wooden balconies — all lovely.

I stayed at what called itself a hotel but was really more of an Airbnb in that I let myself in with a key pad and never saw anyone. Not my favourite, but the hostels were not in central Valletta and the hotels that were, were expensive. This place was fine. Not cheap, but about as good as can be expected for a destination like this. I was happy enough.

On that first day I did what I always do: I walked. I walked fairly aimlessly to get my bearings and see what there was to see. Valletta was even better on foot than it was in a taxi. So many narrow streets with tremendous views, beautiful architecture, and inviting cafes and bistros.

It was a bit cold when the sun went down but I found a restaurant with some heaters on its patio and I had dinner, a cigar, and a martini. It was a great introduction to the city.

Valletta Day Two

This is normally the part where I would break to a new blog post for day two, but, I don’t have that much to say, so I’ll carry on. Here’s the thing, Valletta IS beautiful and it IS a great choice for a weekend break, but two and a half days there felt long. Valletta is small and easy to walk and see in a day (a busy day). I would have spent more time in galleries and museums, but many of them were closed; some due to renovations or maybe covid, but almost everything was closed on Easter Sunday. So mostly, I walked. I explored the narrow streets, enjoyed the architecture new and old, visited the library, MUZA (the National Museum of Fine Arts), and the 17th C historic house of Casa Rocca Piccola.

When I needed a rest, I stopped for a coffee and a small cigar. (Weirdly, there are no cigar lounges in Valletta, but smoking outdoors is fine, if a bit chilly in April. I SAW “weirdly” because Valletta seems quite posh and classic and it seems like it should have dark wood panelled cigar rooms filled with posh men in leather chairs. But it doesn’t — or maybe it does but they are so posh that they are off limits to me.)

I visited the Upper Gardens, which, as gardens are fine, but the impressive thing is they have the most incredible views of the water, the rooftops, and of the neighbouring islands. Cannons line the edges, facing the sea.

From the gardens I took the outdoor elevator, running parallel to a cliff, down to the lower part of the city and got on a small ferry boat. Tiny things, they only hold about six passengers and look a little like gondolas. The ride across to the “Three Cities” is cheap and pleasant and, if you take the crossing on a super windy day, as I did, it is a little exciting. The boatman did not share my enthusiasm for the wind and waves.

Taking the boat across to explore the other side is reason enough, but I had a more specific purpose. The Fort of Saint Angelo. It is open to the public and is fine for a visit, if not very interesting, but what I wanted to see was the visit to the upper fort.

The upper fort of Saint Angelo is technically, kind of, it’s own sovereign state. It isn’t one of the 193 universally recognized countries on the UN list, but it is recognized by the UN as being sovereign. It is the territory of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta (or the Sovereign Military Order of Malta for short.) It has no land per se, but has this space in Malta and some in Rome. The Order has relationships with and is recognized by over 100 countries and had its own stamps and I have read that it also has passports and currency but I’m not sure about that.

So will I add it on to my list of countries visited? No. But it is pretty cool, like visiting Transnistria or the Vatican or Christiania. I love these geographical/political rebels.

I expected some kind of fan fare, but sadly I just stepped across the threshold of a black gate, under a seal, past a sign, and I was in.

There wasn’t too much to see on the other side. I had hoped for cloaked figures in the shadows at least. But I walked around and took pictures and then when I was satisfied I left and bloated back to Valletta.

The evening was an excellent meal and a negroni with a couple of cigars.

Reflections

It was all lovely and pleasant and pretty…and I am happy I went … but it wasn’t super exciting. I think Malta is one of those places where it might be nice to be there with a significant other (something I am sure I will never have or do); I say this because Valletta is just so romantic — romantic and a teensy bit dull — so I could imagine being there with someone with whole you want to linger over meals or glasses or wine with. Or maybe it is better for people who want to relax more than I do. Plus, being that Valletta is decidedly not a backpacker crowd, I had trouble meeting people. It seemed like everyone else was there for their own family or romantic weekend so people didn’t seem so open to chatting up weird Canadian cigar smoking solo travel women. Fair enough.

I don’t want to dissuade anyone from going to Malta; it is gorgeous and unique and historically interesting, and romantic. It’s just that for me, travelling the way I do, a day and a half was fine and I could have done with some (mis)adventure.

The next day, were it not Easter Sunday, I would have ventured to the ancient temple of the Hypogeum, but it was closed for the holiday and I really wanted to see the Easter Sunday festivities in Valletta. That I will save for another post.

Central America / Caribbean Guatemala North America

The Ruins at Tikal

I had gone to Guatemala for a week or so of work and was flying home on a Sunday, which meant I had one Saturday to do with as I pleased. There was no way I was leaving Guatemala without seeing the Mayan complex of Tikal. Guatemala has a wealth of beautiful sights to choose from and I knew I was only going to see Antigua and Tikal. The photos of Tikal have always looked so mystical: tall pyramids rising out of the jungle. I love that stuff (who doesn’t?) whether it is Machu Pichu or Abu Simbel, or Tikal, there is the allure of a lost civilization leaving exquisite remnants and just a bit of a feeling like you are Indiana Jones. It’s irresistible.

So I was determined to make it work.

I don’t recommend going from Antigua or even Guatemala City to Tikal for the day. It is a long day and while I was happy with the time I spent at Tikal, it meant not getting to spend any time in the delightful looking town of Flores, which is the gateway to Tikal. But it IS possible to do it as a day trip if you have transportation at both ends of the flight to Tikal and don’t mind starting at about 2:30am. The logistics of handling the transportation on my own seemed daunting, so I just booked a day tour, which I felt was the best option.

I was picked up and driven to Guatemala City where we gathered the others, maybe 8 of us in total. We flew in a small twin propellor plane for about an hour to Flores where we were picked up by our guide and driven to the Tikal national park.

Tikal was built between about 200 and 900 AD by the Mayans (although the site of Tikal was settled about 1000 years prior) but it was not discovered, covered by jungle, until the 1840s. It seems impossible that it could go unnoticed for so long, but even now, some of the temples are still covered by vegetation and it was only when our guide pointed them out that we knew they were there. They just looked like green hills.

It was great, walking through the trees, monkeys overhead, and then seeing a pyramid peak peeking out above the trees, or entering a clearing with one just sitting there. It was lovely. And we got to climb up many of them, which I always like, even if sometimes that seems like a better idea going up than coming down.

I don’t feel like I learned a lot on this tour about the civilization itself, but I was very happy to have a guide take us around and the people on the tour were all nice and good company. That said, no one in the group had seen the very enjoyable horror movie “The Ruins”, which was so clearly on point; it was disappointing.

(“The Ruins” is good travel horror movie where a bunch of young backpackers visit a pyramid in the middle of the jungle in Central America, only to find that the vines covering the pyramid are sentient and sacrificing the humans that invade the pyramid. I mean, come on, it’s the same thing. They may as well be selling DVDs of it at the Tikal gift shop. [There is no Tikal gift shop.]) I feel like often obvious horror movie references go unappreciated in places around the world. Like the Paris catacombs and “As Above So Below”, or the Amazon and “Cannibal Holocaust”, or the Australian outback and “Wolf Creek”, or any hostel in Eastern Europe and…”Hostel”. I could go on, but won’t.) It’s almost like other adults don’t spend all their free time at home watching trash.

Horror movie digression aside, Tikal did not disappoint. It was incredible. I would say that it was a little less impressive than Machu Pichu or Abu Simbel. Better than Teohuacan. Maybe similar in enjoyment to Borobodour. But there is not requirement to rank these places. This isn’t that kind of blog. All these places are wonderful and worth seeing.

Tikal was great. I’m glad I went. It was the perfect way to end my time in Guatemala.

Central America / Caribbean Guatemala North America

Smoking Cigars in Antigua

Anyone who knows me or reads this blog with any regularity knows that i love smoking cigars. Pretty much daily whether at home or away. It’s just one of my favourite things. This means that when i travel anywhere, part of my travel planning is researching where I can smoke and if there are cigar lounges and stores. Antigua, Guatemala is an unusual place in this regard.

Guatemala is in the part of the world where tobacco is grown and cigars are rolled, but, unlike many of its neighbours, Guatemala doesn’t really have a cigar industry. Perhaps connected to that, smoking (at least in Antigua) is mostly not allowed. Smoking is not allowed indoors and not in any outdoor courtyard. (Harumph)

Antigua has all of these charming cafes and restaurants, but, due to the style of the buildings, the outdoor areas are all courtyards (super lovely ones), which means they are smoke free. It was a bit disappointing, however, i could smoke on the patio of my air bnb and no one complained when i smoked on benches in parks, – but there were even better options.

If you like cigars and are in Antigua, your home away from home will be Antigua Cigars. It is this perfect cigar store/lounge in the historic centre of Antigua. It has a small humidor with a limited selection of Cubans and a selection of excellent non-Cubans, including their great house brand and a wide array of Plasencia cigars, which I enjoyed.

Attached to the store is a small and inviting lounge with just the right decor and music and, best of all, great people. (I swear to god, they aren’t paying me; i was just so happy there.) The owners are lovely people, a husband and wife, from Canada, and they have lived in Antigua for years. Full of great stories and hospitality. The other clientele at the lounge were mostly expats/immigrants and every single one of them were delightful company. I went there maybe 4 or 5 times in my 8 days there and felt like I had friends.

*My arm is complete again, at Antigua Cigars*

The owners at Antigua Cigars also let me in on two places that allowed smoking: one is the rooftop patio of an Irish pub called The Snug. It has a casual and fun vibe and excellent views of the volcanos and no one had an issue with my cigars.

The other place is called something like Primavera and it is a restaurant maybe two blocks from Antigua Cigars. It has a romantic courtyard with a fire and fairy lights and cozy nooks. It also had excellent food. I went twice and ate and drank more than i needed so i could keep enjoying the ambiance, which also included live music.

There is another cigar store/lounge: Cigar Boutique and Lounge Antigua. It is just half a block down from the yellow arch towards the end of the street. It has a very well stocked humidor of Cuban cigars and a nice room of leather chairs. It didn’t seem to have a crown of regulars, but was a nice place to smoke. I’m not totally sure about the quality of the cigars though. I bought four there; two were excellent, and two smoked so badly i would have bet they were counterfeit (but maybe they were just duds), and on my second visit, i found a box in the humidor that had cigars riddled with beetle holes. So i don’t think i would buy a lot of cigars there, but i would still visit and buy a cigar and use then space.

*At the Cigar Boutique and Lounge near the Yellow Arch. That Bolivar was excellent.*

I also spied a lot of egregious counterfeit Cohibas at the local crafts market. Don’t be fooled.

I smoked an obscene amount of cigars in Antigua, even if it was not as open as i might have liked. And i brought back a couple bundles of the house brand cigars from Antigua Cigars, which I am still enjoying. But the best thing, as is often the case with cigar smoking, was not the cigars themselves, but the connections made while doing it.