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Wandering North

Chronicling my travel adventures since 2007

  • Home
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    • Africa
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      • Benin
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      • Burkina Faso
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      • Mauritania
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      • Sudan
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Tag: Bolivar

Posted inEurope Switzerland Tunisia Trip 2018

Zurich

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Read More about Zurich
Posted on 26 March 18
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Posted inAfrica Burkina Faso Trip 2016 Morocco

7 Hours in Casablanca

I had two choices when booking my trip to Burkina Faso: a 2 hour layover in Casablanca or a 7 hour layover in Casablanca. The choice seemed obvious. There is a train from the airport and no visa is required, so with a bit of planning i figured i could pull off a quick visit to the city. And so i did.

Everything fell into place. Bag checked straight through, flight on time, no line at immigration, easily found the train which was just pulling into the station. About a half an hour later, past rural areas and industrial zones, i was at Casa Voyageurs Station. Form there i bought a ticket for the tram and took it 5 stops to the old medina, which was the area which most interested me.

The signs were now in French and Arabic. The weather, thankfully, was in the 20s and sunny. Everything was busy. People bustling about dressed in everything from traditional Moroccan clothes, to American outfits. People were selling nuts, water, coconuts, popcorn, balloons, and a collection of odds and ends. And that was even before reaching the medina. Outside the main gate of the medina was a water seller dressed in the traditional costume, offering brass cups of cold water to passersby. I tried to surreptitiously take his picture, but he saw me, smiled, waved me over, posed for a selfie, and then put his hat on my head. He refused to take any money.

Once inside, i was welcomed by every salesman and would-be guide. People were friendly even when i made it clear i was not buying. One fellow walked with me for a while and we chatted about movies and music and he pointed out some historical sights, which was nice, as he did so even after i said i didn’t want a guide and wouldn’t be paying. A couple of guys weren’t so great and there was a bit of ‘accidental’ groping, but it wasn’t the end of the world; i admonished them harshly and they scurried off. I had a good time, wandering the alleys past people selling produce, spices, clothing, house wears, and carpets. People were gutting fish, tending to chickens, cutting hair, smoking, and drinking coffee. Tucked into the commercial enterprises were mosques, cafes, and doors and passageways leading where i know not.

I tried to keep track of where i turned so i could find my way out of the labyrinth. That was a folly, but eventually (through nothing but luck) i made my way outside the wall and back to where i started. I thought about taking a taxi to see the big mosque but i was mindful of the time, so instead i just wandered around some more and then sat down on the patio of a nice cafe, where i smoked a Bolivar Belicoso Fino and watched the sun set and the rise of what i understand to be some sort of super moon.

Back at the airport, via the same route in reverse, through customs and awaiting my flight. From Brussels to Morocco and now to Burkina Faso. Big day. Posts to follow from Ouagadougou (internet permitting).

Read More about 7 Hours in Casablanca
Posted on 14 November 16
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Posted inCentral America / Caribbean Cuba

La Casa Del Musica

Thursday was another lazy day. The only plans we had was to have dinner with Stripes’ friend Ramón who is from Havana. I had a late start that day and then just went for a walk around the old city, stopping for a Bolivar at the La Casa Del Habano on Calle Mercaderes, which has a comfortable quartet of chairs for smoking and a another cigar and an espresso on Plaza de Armas.

I met up with Stripes and Noodles at 3ish. We did a spin around the plaza and i bought a beautiful book from 1870 or so on adultery and one of those Cuban Revolution trading card books that they sell everywhere. Despite their ubiquity, i still think they are pretty cool. From there we walked down to the arts and crafts market where we bought nothing, save for Stripes and Noodles acquiring a couple of rum filled coconuts for sipping. On the way back to my casa to drop off my books, rather than walking, i insisted, over Stripes and Noodles’ objections, that the three of us take one of the cute/cheezy coco taxis, which (barely) seats three. It was ridiculous, but very fun to zip through the narrow streets in a bright yellow ball on wheels.

We ended up at Parque Central, where we retired to the rooftop of the Hotel Parque Central for a few drinks, Cohiba Behikes, and the excellent view over the city.

We met Ramón at the Hotel Telegrafo for a drinks before we drove in his car to a restaurant in the Vedado area. Stripes had been there before and described it as “a hidden gem”. Hidden no more, because as we arrived we saw a tour bus outside and the place was crammed with tourists. The restaurant was good, with a lovely atmosphere and good food (including vegetarian options), and ponds of colorfully lit fish. Over dinner, Ramón told us about the trials of operating busineses and buying and selling cars and property in Cuba and the role played by the government in all things. As do most things in Havana, dinner went late, so by the time we left it was after 11pm and Stripes suggested that we head to La Casa Del Musica in Miramar. (I wanted to go to the grittier one in Havana Central, but i was outvoted.)

La Casa del Musica’s opening act didn’t start until midnight and the main act at 1am. We paid our cover and took out seat in the busy and freezing cold club. I immediately noticed one thing: no one was smoking. And then i saw flashing across the screen on stage (in Spanish) “no smoking”. I was horrified. When i imagined myself in a Havana music club, i always saw myself with a large cigar. Apparently the policy at this club had changed very recently. So i sat there in the ice cold, too fresh air and stirred my mojito sadly.

Fortunately i was distracted when the opening act started: two singers, and a bevy of dancers in feathered brassieres and headdresses with a small band playing salsa music. Despite the lack of a real dance floor, couples all around us stood up and began to salsa and shimmy. I remained sensibly seated.

The main act, Bambaleo, took the stage at 1:00. We were fading at that point, but i insisted that we stay for a couple of songs. The 16 member ensemble dazzled the audience with tempting salsa beats and vocals. It was good, but my eyes were heavy and the hour late, so we left after two songs. As we left, groups of what i was told were prostitutes entered, dressed festively, in search of visiting men.

Read More about La Casa Del Musica
Posted on 20 November 15
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Posted inCentral America / Caribbean Cuba

Cigars and the Perfect Piña Colada

Day two in Havana began with breakfast at my casa (fruit, coffee, juice, bread and honey) before going out to walk aimlessly a bit more in old Havana. Everything was quieter in the morning, but just as lovely.

I was meeting my friends, Stripes and Noodles, at the Partagas factory at noon so before that i walked out of Havana Vieja and to central Havana, where i walked around the currently reconstructed capitol building (which bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain government in the US), past some lavish hotels, then beyond, into a grid of streets which still bore the same once beautiful buildings, but they were less restored, far from postcard perfect. This was actually more to my liking in some ways than Havana Vieja – fewer tourists, more locals shopping at sparse bodegas with blaring salsa music, butchers, fruit sellers, and windows selling greasy looking pork sandwiches.

I met Stripes and Noodles at the Partagas factory. It technically is no longer a factory, with the manufacturing having been moved elsewhere, but it still houses a great cigar store and a “vip” smoking lounge. The selection of cigars was terrific and i helped myself to a Partagas Serie P No 2 as we headed into the smoking lounge. The lounge was crowded with men from all over the world, here for the same, annual Partagas cigar festival that we are here to attend. Stripes and Noodles knew a lot of these people from their past visits and so they visited and i sat and smoked and ogled the well-stocked humidor. Rum was plentiful, but i stuck to coffee.

After a long smoke at Partagas, Stripes, Noodles, a friend of theirs, and i walked to a new restaurant operated by a fiend of theirs (I’m not sure if “owned” is the right word, given that everything is owned by the government.). The walk was nice, the weather humid, but not too hot. The neighbourhood was relatively quiet and situated near the Malecon and the sea. We had lunch there at the surprisingly fancy cafe, which was great – few veg options, but i had enough to eat – and then we retired upstairs to the rooftop patio for a cigar. The spot was lovely, but unfortunately it was already populated by a group of Canadians – two dopey men and three shrill women who prattled on about their periods and shopping at Walmart. We didn’t stay long. From there we walked along the Malecon (the thoroughfare that runs along the sea) to the National Hotel. The walk was glorious. The waves crashing along the wall and drenching pedestrians in showers of sea foam. Locals had begun to congregate for the evening, listening to music and hanging out. Fishermen wrapped up their hauls before the dark set in.

 

Read More about Cigars and the Perfect Piña Colada
Posted on 16 November 15
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About Wandering North

Welcome to Wandering North, where I have been blogging about my travels since 2007.

Dale Raven North

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