cigar Archives - Wandering North

Kuwait Mongolia-Kuwait-Bahrain trip 2025

Kuwait: Quick and Quiet

I had wrapped up my time in Mongolia and flew to the next country on this trip, which was Kuwait. You may be thinking what I was when I came up with this preposterous itinerary, which is, “Kuwait is nowhere near Ulaanbaatar.” And you would be right. After deciding to visit Mongolia, I wanted to visit another country that I had not been to before, but there wasn’t much around Mongolia, so I looked West and decided it was time to time to hit up a couple of Gulf microstates. Next stop Kuwait.

Almost every blog or social media post I see from people who have been everywhere and feel the need to rank countries, ranks Kuwait near the bottom. Boring is the consensus. No problem. I didn’t plan to spend much time there and, in my experience, everywhere is interesting for a day or two. I would be in Kuwait for about 36 hours.

I landed in the middle of the night and took a taxi to my hotel, the ibis Sharq (so called because it is in the Sharq district). Uninspired, but it was cheaper than a lot of options. I have no idea if there is a better area to stay in Kuwait City; something walkable and affordable. I feel like it does not exist, but I am open to suggestions. The ibis was fine. I slept for a few hours and headed out. I wanted to get an early start because I was there only a short time and I knew the afternoon would be hot.

I wasn’t sure what to wear in Kuwait. I heard mixed things about how covered up and conservative I should be, so erring on the side of caution, I wore a light black abaya and matching headscarf with some black beading at the hems and underneath I had leggings and a t-shirt. I don’t know that it was necessary to be so conservative, but I think I would have felt conspicuous walking around without it. But the thing was, it was very hot. It was at least 45°C and I think at one point it went up to 48. It was not pleasant for walking. Throughout the day, I kept tucking into air-conditioned establishments or sitting on the sidewalk in the shade and drinking lots of water trying to get my temperature down. It was intense.

My main stop, and I think every tourist’s main stop in Kuwait City, was the Kuwait Towers. Three retro futuristic sipe-like towers built in the 1970s. Two of them piece blue spheres. One sphere is a water tank, one is a café, and one is divided in its lower half as a water tank and its upper half is a restaurant. I did not pay the money to go inside and I don’t regret it. But they were cool to see in person. During the day they are blue and white but at night they are lit up in different colours. I was able to walk there from my hotel and took a bit of a stroll along the bay, again until the heat overtook me.

Thankfully they have Uber in Kuwait, and I called a car and asked it to take me to another area of town so I could visit a big mosque and the souk area.

A couple of problems with Kuwait: One problem is that it is a car culture. It’s not designed for walking, so the streets don’t have much life them. The distances are long and there’s not a lot of things to engage with along the way. Also, it’s hot, so walking isn’t great to begin with. The other problem was that I was there on a Saturday; a Saturday being sort of like the equivalent of a Sunday in a Christian nation and pretty much everything was closed. So a city that wasn’t super exciting to begin with felt even more quiet. The business district was a ghost town.

I did wander over to the souk and that was a little bit interesting although most of the shops were closed. Fortunately, some of the cafes were not, and I found a café (Dalalwa Café) with lots of outdoor air conditioners and men lounging outside, drinking tea and smoking shisha in crisp white thawbs (locally called dishdashahs). I joined them and drank tea and smoked a cigar. They refused to take my money. I attracted a lot of curious looks, but they were polite and no one was no one made me feel unwelcome. (I’m not sure if the looks were due to my gender, the cigar, or the face that my face was so red and sweaty.)

The mosque I wanted to visit wasn’t open. All I could do was walk around the outside. I walked around some streets and took in more of the atmosphere, such as it was. I tried to visit the museum, but it was closed, as was the aquarium. There really aren’t a lot of designated tourist attractions in Kuwait.

What Kuwait lacked in museums, it made up for in cigar lounges. I was able to visit two. Both were in commercial buildings: one, simply called No.21 high up in The No2 of the two Pearl Towers; a bit difficult to find, but worth it. (UPDATE: sine I was there it has relocated to the 4th floor of the Four Seasons Hotel Kuwait at Burj Alshaya. The other, the Cabinet Club on the second floor of Salhiya Mall. They were nice lounges. Very well appointed and with excellent selections of cigars. Not cheap. Nothing in Kuwait is.

I enjoyed the respite from the heat, and I was able to chat with the employees of the two lounges. It wasn’t easy to engage with people in Kuwait because there weren’t a lot of them around but the people working in the lounges were all from other countries and spoke English and were happy to chat for a bit. I was the only woman in the two lounges. The others there were men, again dressed in gleaming white dishdashahs with designer sunglasses and perfectly groomed facial hair. They looked very fancy. I felt bedraggled by comparison.

At some point in the day, I started to feel a bit unwell. I wasn’t sure if it was heat stroke or if it was the subtle food poisoning that I had been experiencing yesterday at the Istanbul airport, but my stomach just wasn’t right. I went back to my hotel to have a bit of a rest before dinner. Because I had some big dinner plans.

The most interesting thing about going to Kuwait was that I was having dinner with someone that I have been working with for over 10 years but had never met. If you don’t know, I’m a lawyer. In 2015 we took on a case involving members of the Kuwaiti royal family and their deceased father who had invested in some properties in British Columbia Canada. Several of the children ended up suing each other including in British Columbia and we became lawyers for one of them. (I’m able to write about this this because there are several reported decisions in the Supreme Court British Columbia, so all of this is public information.) At the time of writing, the case is ongoing. Anyway, I had never met our client, the Sheikha, and I was excited to have dinner with her and her daughter. A Sheikha is effectively the equivalent of a Princess. She and her daughter selected the restaurant and picked me up at my hotel in a black window tinted SUV. And we went to a restaurant called Dar Hamad in Salmiya, which is its own city, but really seems like part of Kuwait City.

Again, to be respectful I was wearing my abaya with my headscarf loosely draped over my shoulders. The Sheikha was also wearing a black abaya with her hair covered but the daughter was wearing a more western style outfit, although still quite modest. The restaurant we went to was gorgeous. Beautifully designed and fancy. We had a table that looked like it was meant to seat ten but it was just for us. I didn’t understand why we had such a large table until they started bringing out all the dishes. The Sheikha had ordered a feast. Not a veritable feast but an actual feast of different things for me to try. She knew ahead of time that I was a vegetarian so most of the dishes were designed to be vegetarian.

*some of the dishes i was too sick to enjoy*

This would have been heaven, except that by the time I went to the dinner I was feeling extremely unwell. I had been suffering from terrible bouts of nausea and feeling like I was going to throw up. I hadn’t eaten anything all day, but I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. I politely told them that I wasn’t feeling that well but that I was excited to try all the food. And I did have the smallest nibbles of all of the different dishes but every time I did, I felt really ill. On two occasions during the meal I urgently had to leave the table and I went to the bathroom to violently vomit. This was not the first impression that I wanted to be making, but it was a very enjoyable dinner and I felt very privileged to be able to experience it.

They drove me back to my hotel and I went to bed. I had a flight early the next morning.

Apart from my dinner with the Sheikha and the cigar lounges, I didn’t love Kuwait. It wasn’t the most interesting of places, however, I think being there on a weekend was a bad decision. For that reason I would like to go back and get a better sense of what the country has to offer. So while it’s not high on my list of countries that I’ve visited, I’m not sure I gave it a fair shot. But that was my visit and my next flight would take me to another new country of similar size, Bahrain.

Mongolia Mongolia-Kuwait-Bahrain trip 2025

Ulaanbaatar redeems itself

On that third day in Ulaanbaatar, I woke up in a good mood. I had so enjoyed my tour the day before and, despite not loving Ulaanbaatar on my first day, I was excited to see more of it. I devised a loose walking plan through the city, with plans to meet someone for a cigar in the evening.

I walked from my hotel (the Hotel Nine by the main square) to Gandantegchinlen Monastery. It was a pleasant, if unremarkable, walk. I did make one blunder, though: I walked by but did not visit the newly constructed Chinggis Khan Museum. I felt like I had done enough of that the day before, and I didn’t think I had enough time, so I skipped it. Everyone I have talked to since has told me it was a mistake and that the museum is incredible. I should have at least popped in. Next time.

I arrived at Gandantegchinlen Monastery and discovered my favourite place in the city. It is a complex of Buddhist temples, and I’ve seen lots of Buddhist temples, but there was something about the way they were laid out and the openness of the space. There was also this low, deep chanting and the occasional soft sound of a gong that permeated the space and made it feel so serene. I felt it kind of deeply. I think it was mostly the chanting. I think, with the right music, I could be tricked into joining a cult.

From there, I walked to a café/tea house called Potala. I read about it on a blog or in a book because I would never have discovered it otherwise. It is on the 11th floor of an office tower called Gem Palace. Weird. But it is a lovely café, decorated in a Buddhist-temple style, with lots of places to sit comfortably and look at the view. They had food (including vegetarian dishes), but I wasn’t peckish. I did try one of their specialty drinks, “Potala Coffee.” which was strong coffee with shar tos (Mongolian clarified sheep or cow butter). It wasn’t terrible, but I think I’ll stick with black coffee. Great café, though. They even had Wi-Fi and lots of outlets; it would be a great place to work on a laptop.

After that, I wandered around more and made my way to a restaurant at the Corporate Hotel. There isn’t anything too special about the hotel, but it has a restaurant with a big, covered patio and comfortable seating. I had a veggie curry and a cigar (Juan Lopez No. 2) and decided it was time to try Mongolia’s vodka. I opted for the Chinggis Gold Vodka, which was the best they had on the menu. The menu said it would be just an ounce, but the waitress brought out the bottle, and I swear she poured me half a glass of vodka. Look at the photo; that’s not water. (It tasted like…vodka.)

Rested and feeling good, I walked south to the Bogd Khan Winter Palace. Bogd Khan was the leader of Mongolia from 1870 to 1924, and this was one of his residences. It was not a great walk there, but I did find this excellent Soviet-style mosaic on the way.

The palace had small, modest interiors and a little bit of a museum, but the palace itself was the real draw, with its decorations and murals.

I didn’t feel like repeating the long walk back to the centre of town, so I hopped on a bus heading in the right direction, and it got me where I wanted to go. I meandered around town for a little longer and then took a taxi to a cigar lounge to meet a stranger.

When I had posted on Facebook that I was flying to Ulaanbaatar, a cigar friend of mine from Vancouver who now lives in Hong Kong messaged me to say that his neighbour, who is also a cigar smoker, was in Ulaanbaatar for a year for work. I’ll call him Pemberton. My buddy connected us, and Pemberton and I arranged to meet at a cigar store and lounge called Habanos Cigar Lounge.

*a nice lounge in an uninspiring setting*

I greatly appreciated that there was a lounge in Ulaanbaatar, but the selection of cigars for sale was only so-so. I bought a Bolivar Belicoso Finos and a Partagas Serie D No. 4 from a disinterested salesperson and settled into the lounge. The inside was actually pretty nice, but, when Pemberton arrived, we sat outside on the patio. It was nice.

We chatted, and I got to hear what it was like to live and work in Ulaanbaatar. Dismal was my takeaway. Pemberton was from the Netherlands but had moved to Hong Kong long ago and worked for a beverage company. His posting in Ulaanbaatar was for about a year, during which he worked with the government to set up manufacturing and distribution in Mongolia. Similar to the stories I had heard from others, doing any work with the government was slow, inefficient, and a bit corrupt. Pemberton found living in Ulaanbaatar depressing and unpleasant. I can see that.

We parted ways well after dark, and I walked back to my hotel. Ulaanbaatar may not have a lot going for it, but it did feel very safe. The next morning, I got up early and took a private transfer to the airport (hoping not to take the bus this time). The sky was beautiful.

I enjoyed my three days in Mongolia, even if I was only lukewarm on Ulaanbaatar. If I were to return, though (and I wouldn’t rule it out), I would take the train to some other locations in Mongolia and try to spend more time in nature.

But I was on to my next destination from Mongolia, which was, illogically, Kuwait.

*some murals and a random Beatles monument in Ulaanbaatar*

Mongolia Mongolia-Kuwait-Bahrain trip 2025

First impressions of Ulaanbaatar

I arrived in Ulaanbaatar at about 9:30 in the morning flying in from Seoul on, what would turn out to be a ’round the world’ trip.

Mongolia. A new country and a new capital city. Apparently, some people will shorten Ulaanbaatar by just calling it “UB”, but I was committed to the saying the full name every time. It’s fun to say and even better to read and write. With all those long As. I was excited.

As exciting as it was to land, getting in from the airport was a bit annoying. It is far from the city. There is an airport bus to take you on the approximately 50-kilometre journey, but the traffic is so terrible that the journey can take up to two hours. It took nearly that long the morning that I arrived. It’s bizarre really, there is lots of room for roads through the countryside, but it is a narrow highway congested with too many cars. I was impatient, but I still enjoyed the journey. The scenery was beautiful with rippling hills of green but very few trees. The bus dropped us off in the main square in the city which was just a minute or two from my hotel on foot. The main square was impressive. Imposing buildings some with attractive colours and columns; a giant statue of Genghis Khan – the fellow who would be everywhere – and the weather was nice.

I walked to my hotel the Hotel Nine, which is nothing special to look at but it has an excellent location, a good buffet breakfast, and reasonable rates. The nicer hotels were mostly unremarkable and overpriced.

I went out to explore. Ulaanbaatar didn’t make a great first impression on me. I’m not sure it made it great last impression on me. At least not in terms of beauty. It is, generally speaking, an unattractive city. There are some buildings that are nice, some that look decorative, some that look a little bit Soviet, and there are some beautiful temples, but overall, it is just quite ugly. It is unattractive buildings with busy streets and neighbourhoods that were designed for cars and not walking. It’s not the sort of place that you wander around and explore and get lost in charming little nooks and crannies. But it was interesting and I enjoyed it.

I visited the National Art Gallery which had some nice works of art, but mostly it was interesting to see the very specific Mongolian paintings of nomads and camels and harsh winters on the steppe.

There was a temple area sort of in the middle of town that I wandered over to. I wasn’t able to go inside, but viewing them from the outside was and gave me hope that there would be more interesting things to see.

I walked a lot around the central part of the city that day exploring what there was to see and I wasn’t really loving it. I was having a good time, as I always am when I’m exploring somewhere new, but I wasn’t charmed or wowed or impressed by what I saw. I did visit a little cafe with some vegetarian food, and I went there and had a bite to eat and smoked a cigar. It was kind of a cool place with music playing and lots of young people with neck tattoos and army boots. I was pleased to see that there was kind of a cool alternative subculture. And in walking around the city I have to say that I think Mongolian people are underrated for their beauty. Obviously not every person is beautiful, but the people that are attractive are extremely good looking.

I wandered around some more and found myself on the patio of another restaurant where I had a negroni and a cigar and watch the sunset behind some unattractive buildings. Speaking of the negroni, a fun fact about Ulaanbaatar is that until it was repealed in 2022, on the first day of each month alcohol was not allowed to be sold or consumed. It was a law. Apparently, Mongolia has high rates of alcoholism, but the law was repealed because it just drove drinking and alcohol sales into the black market for that day.

I was tired from my journey and underwhelmed by the city and I didn’t stay out late that night. There also didn’t seem to be anything in the evening that I really wanted to do, so I had an early night. The next day I had booked a driver to take me around to see some sights outside of the city. That day would be excellent, as would my second day exploring Ulaanbaatar which I’ll write about in another post.

And this is one of the downsides of writing a dairy-style blog, The first day was mediocre, but it got a lot better from there. So if you are reading this and thinking “Ulaanbaatar sounds awful” or “Ugh, she didn’t even visit the good spots”, I get it. My next two post will be decidedly more positive. But this was my first day and impressions.

Read on for enhanced positivity. (Nature! Temples! Gers! Cows!)

Asia Mongolia-Kuwait-Bahrain trip 2025 South Korea

Hello Kitty to the Rescue: A Layover in Seoul

I don’t know why, but in the last few years my travel planning has become a little bit more chaotic. I used to book my trips many months in advance, and I would spend time refining the itineraries and learning phrases in the local language and getting organized. But more recently I find myself booking the trips with just a few weeks’ notice. I still make a good itinerary, but it all feels a little rushed. I don’t think I can conceive months in advance of actually being able to take time off work, but then something happens and I just need a holiday and then I book it without much planning. This was one of those trips.

I had decided that I needed to go somewhere, and I decided to go to Mongolia. But I didn’t just want to go to Mongolia, I wanted to try to visit a couple of other countries. And that’s what I tried to do on this trip. I decided to go to Mongolia and Kuwait and Bahrain. I’m aware that Mongolia is nowhere near Kuwait and Bahrain, but it made for an interesting itinerary. And it started with an overnight layover in Seoul South Korea.

This was my third or fourth time visiting Seoul, although each of those visits has been on some sort of long layover. I’ve never actually taken a trip just to see South Korea. I probably should, but this would be another layover visit.

I don’t love Seoul. I know that Seoul is very popular but, overall, I am not enamoured with it. It does make for a good layover though. I appreciate its excellent public transportation and its affordable accommodations, and that there’s lots going on day and night to fill your time. As much as I don’t love it, I was happy to be back for my layover this time.

*Arex: the fast train into the city. Of course it has a cute mascot.*

I arrived at 4:00 PM and I would have to leave again at 9:00 in the morning, so I just had an evening. I booked myself into the Hostel Drip & Drop, which is conveniently located in Myeongdong and right by the Euljiro 1(il)-ga metro station. I took the AREX Express train (which is only slightly faster than the other train) into the city with my backpack and walked to the hostel and dropped it off.

Before I say anything else, I have to say how impressed I was with this hostel. I have fantasies of designing the perfect hostel because there are so many of them that just have design flaws, like having no lighting options between pitch black and blinding white or showers in shared bathrooms with no place to take off your clothes or hang them up outside of the soaking wet shower. This hostel was close to perfect.

It had an immaculate sleeping quarter. I opted for the girls’ dorm and it was one of those ones where every bed is a pod with a proper curtain, a shelf, lighting, and a comfy mattress inside. For the first time ever, I had a little bunk with a window in it. This hostel also had an adjoining room where there were lockers to put your backpack and your shoes, so you would take off your shoes and get your pyjamas, or do whatever you needed to do, and then you could either go into the room with the beds or into the shared bathroom. What this meant was there was no possibility of anybody in the sleeping room rummaging around in their bags, or getting dressed, or crinkling plastic bags because all of that happened in another room. I’m sorry if you’re not here to hear about effective hostile design, but I was very excited by this. And it was $56 Canadian per night. Not exactly dirt cheap, but pretty close.

I don’t know why it’s called Drip & Drop except that it has something to do with coffee and they do provide you with a coffee pour-over situation and they had a pour-over station in the common area. I mean, that’s pretty great. The downsides were no kitchen, and the common area was very sterile and didn’t really invite one to hang around, but that’s OK; I wasn’t there for long. I would 1000% stay there again.

Once I was finished admiring my hostel, I set out into the city. I decided to wander along the Cheonggyecheon, which is sort of a man-made urban river that runs through the city lined with pedestrian and bike friendly spaces with benches and sculptures. It’s a really wonderful use of public space and provides some serenity into what a busy city is otherwise.

I meandered around taking exploring the streets. There appeared to be some sort of festival happening geared towards children and there were a lot of inflatable things and children’s activities. I have no idea what was going on but it did make for some fun photos. It was blisteringly hot in Seoul, so, to cool off, I lingered by the fans set up outside next to some inflatable children’s water park set up for the event, until I realized that a single adult lingering near strange children is creepy.

I wanted to visit a cigar lounge before it got too late (and I needed an escape from the weather) and so I went to the Resolver Cigar Lounge. It was walking distance from my hostel in a commercial building. The lounge was a little bit difficult to find and I nearly gave up and left but finally I found it and it was worth the effort as it was a beautiful lounge. Dimly lit with comfortable leather chairs, excellent cigar accessories, and a sophisticated atmosphere. I visited the humidor and picked out a Plasencia Alma Fuerte – a cigar made at the Plasencia factory I had previously visited in Nicaragua. They had a decent selection of Cubans and some non-Cubans but the prices were very high, and this was the cigar that I decided best fit my budget and palate. The only downside of the lounge, if there was one, was that it was very quiet. There were a couple of other groups of men smoking cigars, but it didn’t have a very social atmosphere. I’ve noticed this a lot with cigar lounges in East Asia which is that people don’t really seem that inclined to talk to each other. Everyone seems to kind of keep to themselves.

By the time I left the lounge it was dark, but that did nothing to reduce the heat and humidity. Sweating profusely, I walked back to the area near my hostel to visit the Myeongdong Night Market. I was delighted to have a night market to go to. At first, it was terrific to walk around the area with the market. The neon signs were twinkling, throngs of people were out gawking at the stalls and eating things on sticks and there was food and merchandise for sale throughout the streets. It was a fun atmosphere. Except now not only was it hot, but it was hot and I was walking past stalls frying up food and producing clouds of hot greasy air.

I quickly became very uncomfortable. I also desperately wanted to eat something but, as is always the problem with night markets in Asia in my experience, it’s very difficult to find anything vegetarian; plus, I had forgotten to get cash from the ATM. After a while I just needed some air conditioning and relief from the weather and that’s when I saw it, like a beacon calling to me. My savior. Hello Kitty.

I love Hello Kitty and I’ve been wanting to go to a themed cafe forever. And there it was: a two-story Hello Kitty café, open late and artificially ice cold. While I was thankful for the air conditioning, I will say that the interior of the Hello Kitty cafe was so brightly lit that I felt like I was in some sort of alien spacecraft, but I was happy for it. I bought two food items that I’ve never had before and will certainly never have again which was a dragon fruit iced tea and a mango cake that was shaped like an actual mango inside a hard shell. It was delicious; or maybe I was just hot and famished. I sat by the window by myself, my eyes ringed in smudgy black eyeliner; I was looking goth-adjacent smelling of cigar smoke and thoroughly enjoying my Hello Kitty meal.

After that, I took one last spin around the market and then went back to my hostel for a shower and asleep. In a few short hours I would be up again and heading back to the airport to fly to my next destination: Ulaanbaatar.

*Temple at sunrise. Headed back to the airport*

Egypt Yemen Trip 2025

Cairo Layover: The Interrogation

This was barely a layover, but because it involves a rather funny story, I thought it deserved its own post. My two travelling companions, John and Doc, and I had left Yemen, flying from Seiyun to Cairo. Our stopover was incredibly brief: we landed in Cairo at 9:45 PM, and my flight out was scheduled for 5:45 AM the next morning. Originally, I planned to just rough it and sleep at the airport terminal. However, realizing how crucial a good night’s rest would be, and seeing that airport hotels were reasonably priced, we each booked a room at Le Passage Cairo Hotel right next to the airport. I highly recommend it—even in the middle of the night, they have food and beverage options open, and the property itself is very nice. But first, I actually had to get there.

To leave the airport, we each had to go through immigration to get our passports stamped into Egypt. John and Doc passed through within seconds with absolutely no questions asked. When I stepped up to the counter, however, the officer looked at my passport and began typing furiously into her computer. She asked where I was coming from and where I was heading. I explained that I had just arrived from Yemen and was flying to London in the morning. She kept staring at her screen. Finally, she called over a colleague, who instructed me to follow them into a small side room. None of this particularly worried me, except for the fact that it was cutting into my precious sleeping time. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I wasn’t anxious.

The little room turned out to be an interrogation office, complete with a desk, filing cabinets, and a couple of chairs. A thin man wearing glasses, a white button-up shirt, and a tie was standing inside. He spoke flawless English and invited me to sit at the desk. He held my passport in his hand, and what followed was approximately five minutes of pure silence. Five minutes might not sound like a long time, but in a setting like that, it feels like an eternity.

The man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, unpeeled the cellophane slowly, selected a cigarette, and tapped it deliberately against the desk before lighting it. He then took off his glasses, cleaned them with a cloth, inspected the lenses in the light, and put them back on. Next, he stood up, adjusted a fan mounted near the ceiling, and switched it on. Finally, he sat down and began slowly flipping through my passport, the cigarette dangling casually from his lip.

At this point, the performance ended and the questioning began. He asked where I was coming from and exactly why I had gone to Yemen. I explained multiple times that I was simply on holiday and enjoyed visiting unique countries. He asked what I did for a living, and I told him I was a lawyer in Canada returning to my home and job the day after next. He also questioned me about the short layover I had in Cairo on my way to Yemen, noting it was suspicious that I had gone into the city for such a brief window. I countered, “Why would I miss an opportunity to go into one of the world’s greatest cities for breakfast?”

He repeated several of his questions, looking for cracks in my story. Finally, he stared directly at me and said, “I don’t believe a single thing you are telling me. But I cannot find a reason to keep you here, so I am going to let you go.”

He handed my passport back and sent me through immigration, where it was stamped and I was finally released. It was a bizarre interaction, and I have no idea what the fellow thought I was actually up to. Honestly, I am glad it happened because I thoroughly appreciated his weird, exaggerated mime theatrics. Perhaps I should have been nervous, but I was simply too exhausted to care.

When I finally checked into the hotel, I was still too wired to sleep. I sat outside in the courtyard having one final cigar before going to bed for a grand total of two hours. The next morning, I would be landing in London for one final day of vacation before heading home to Canada.

Asia Yemen Yemen Trip 2025

Yemen – Shibam and Departures

We awoke on this, our last full day, at our beautiful hotel in the valley. The previous day had been our excellent visit to the villages of Wadi Doan. The routine was well established at this point: I woke up, had my cigar, and watched the sunrise, followed by breakfast with the group before we set off on our next excursion.

Today, we would be heading to Shibam. As I’ve said in earlier posts, this was the thing that I most wanted to see. This was the picture that I had seen on the internet years ago, making me think, “Someday, I must see this place.” And that day was today.

The Old Walled City of Shibam is one of the highlights of a trip to South Yemen. The town was founded in the 3rd century, but the buildings that you see today were built in the 1500s. The structures are made entirely of mud brick and stand between 5 and 11 stories tall. They are narrow and built close together. Apparently, this particular design was meant to protect them from Bedouin attacks, but whatever the reason, it looks unusual and beautiful. Amazingly, the buildings remain strong and resilient. While they need regular, fresh applications of mud to the exterior, they have lasted all these centuries. The tallest ones are just over 30 metres high. It is the look of these closely clustered tall buildings that has given Shibam nicknames like “The Manhattan of the Desert” and “the World’s First Skyscraper City.”

Seeing it from a distance the night before was magical, but walking amongst the buildings was equally special. People actually live and work here. We saw pharmacies and honey vendors, little shops selling antiquities, and, of course, men sitting around smoking and drinking coffee. Sometimes, seeing things that you’ve been dreaming of can be a disappointment. This was not one of those times.

From Shibam, we drove back to Seiyoun, where we had started our journey; however, we hadn’t seen much of the city at the beginning. This time, we visited a museum in the market. I was delighted to explore the marketplace, finally try some Yemeni coffee, and browse through the little shops. I picked up some small bottles of oud as a souvenir. We sat around a café with our guide and driver, and I thought again about how much I wished I could just explore a little bit on my own. I could have spent all day sitting at a café, smoking and watching the people go about their daily activities.

We went to a specific spot near the market where they made jambiyas. A jambiya is a large, curved dagger that Yemeni men wear as part of their traditional ensemble, tucked into a thick, embroidered belt and worn on top of their futa. John and Doc had not gotten their jambiyas when they first bought their Yemeni clothing, but now they would. The craftsmen at the shop picked out the right jambiya for each of them and hammered holes into custom-fitted belts so that John and Doc could wear them with pride — right up until they had to go through airport security, I guess.

I bided my time at one of the nearby gun shops. This is another moment where I must emphasize that my trip to Yemen felt completely safe, and that the people were extraordinarily nice and hospitable, but there is a tremendous amount of guns. This little shop, which was no bigger than a single parking stall, sold an astonishing assortment of handguns, machine guns, and rifles. They even let us handle and pose with them—without any ammunition, of course. I couldn’t resist posing for a few photos. I had mixed feelings about sharing these pictures online, but I think I’ve been clear that Yemen is not a scary or dangerous country. I just really like this picture of myself with the machine gun. I’m not someone who does online dating, but if I did, I think this would be a fun picture to use in my profile.

Next, we made a specific visit to the honey market, where rows and rows of small shops sold an incredible variety of locally produced honey. Yemenis are very proud of their honey, and we had been eating it every day, but I had no idea there was such a wide variety. We got to sample different types and were told about how different varieties of honey were good for various ailments. Each of the three of us picked up a tiny little bottle of the most expensive honey (sidr) to take home. It was thick, a dark amber colour, and very strong-tasting. I think it was about $5 USD.

But there was still more sightseeing to do. We drove to the nearby city of Tarim, walked the streets, and took in the Al-Mihdar Mosque and some Sufi shrines.

We returned to the Hawta Palace Hotel (the place where we had stayed on our first night in Yemen) for our final night. We were called to dinner and told there would be a special surprise. A group of men arrived and set up for us just before we ate. There were about 8 men dancing and another 10 men playing musical instruments and singing as they put on a performance. It was wonderful, although admittedly, I was trying to juggle a bit of remote work during the show. My companions, John and Doc, were called up to dance with the performers. John tried to call me up as well, but it was very quickly made apparent to me that this was a men-only situation. No problem. I sat outside with my cigar and just watched the show. It was a terrific end to an incredible trip.

The next day was the day of our departure. We got up, had a leisurely breakfast, and went into the city to walk around the market a bit more. We even went to a sort of Western-style coffee shop for iced mochas and lattes. These fancy coffees were not included in the trip budget, and I think this brought the total amount that I spent on the entire trip to about $30 USD—not including the tips that we gave to our guide and driver, of course. I had no idea how much spending money I would need and had brought a lot more with me; it is always better to be safe than sorry. If you are bringing money to Yemen (and you should) make sure that it is crisp, new US bills. They won’t accept anything with any imperfections.

At the airport, we said our goodbyes to our guide and driver and headed through security. There was little to no fanfare or hassle at immigration. Once we were through, we found a little seating area with a café, and we spent the last of our local money on snacks. I realized at this point that I was no longer really in the country and no longer had to wear my abaya. I had thought earlier in the trip that I might bring it home with me, but after six days of wearing it in the heat, it was crusted with sweat and dirt. I was completely sick of it, so I took it off and left it behind.

We boarded the plane and said goodbye to Yemen. It was an amazing trip. While I wouldn’t visit those same sites again (simply because I think we did them justice) I would be happy to go back to the country if the northern part ever reopens to tourism, as I would love to see the capital, Sana’a.

We shared a quick overnight layover in Cairo before John, Doc, and I went our separate ways. Next was a short layover in Cairo where we spent the night and I got interrogated at the airport.

A few more pictures from that final day in Yemen.

*i accidentally snapped a photo of the most handsome man in Yemen*

Asia Yemen Yemen Trip 2025

Yemen – village life in Wadi Doan

On our third day in Yemen, we awoke at the hotel in Mukalla, and after a morning cigar and breakfast, we were back on the road. This would turn out to be both the best and most trying day of the trip so far. We drove to our next accommodation, the Haid Al-Jazil Hotel. It sits pretty much in the middle of nowhere—but what an incredible nowhere! Approaching the property, it simply appeared to be sitting isolated in the middle of a dry desert plain. The hotel itself consists of a series of landscape-appropriate bungalows alongside a main building housing the reception and dining area. However, stepping just past those bungalows revealed the most extraordinary view.

Before us lay a massive desert valley with a thin ribbon of green slicing through the bottom, marking where water flows at certain times of the year. Rising up from the middle of this valley was a large, round plateau topped by a tiny town. A compact cluster of mud-brick buildings sat perched high atop this rock, isolated in the heart of a desolate landscape. It was one of the most remarkable sights I have ever seen, and our accommodations offered a front-row seat.

This was Wafi Doan (aka Wadi Dawan). A wadi is a desert valley, and Wadi Doan cuts through the larger Wadi Hadhramaut region. It is globally famous for its distinct architecture and premium honey production. Looking down from the hotel’s vantage point, I could see tiny people leading tiny creatures along the valley floor. I suppose they were actually regular-sized people leading regular-sized animals, but from that immense height, they looked like miniatures. It was simply amazing.

After taking in the view, we got back on the road to visit some of the local villages. We hiked down into the wadi, but after that point, I get a little confused about the exact order of the places we saw. Trying to piece it together later by looking at my photos and searching online didn’t make it any clearer. I know that on this day we descended into the valley and visited Ribat, Qarhat Ba Humaish, Qarn Majid, Al-Hajjarain, and Sif, but distinguishing between them in memory is difficult because they sit relatively close together.

We began with the descent, which was probably the only low point of the entire holiday. The plan was to hike down to the valley floor to visit that charming village on the rock. No problem, right? I was told it would take about 90 minutes going downhill. I love hiking, so I wasn’t initially concerned. Where it became an issue was the dress code; while the guys were exempted from wearing traditional clothing for the hike and could wear shorts, I was still required to wear my abaya.

As a result, I was hiking through an exposed desert landscape with absolutely no tree cover while wearing leggings, a t-shirt, socks, heavy boots, a thick fabric abaya, and a hijab. I don’t know exactly how hot it was, but I would estimate it was well over 40°C. I overheated very quickly, and the climate took a massive toll on me. Furthermore, while the hike wasn’t overly technical, the terrain was covered in loose rocks. I had to be incredibly cautious about my footing to avoid twisting an ankle. Perhaps other people wouldn’t be so worried, but I have a historical habit of falling off mountains, so I was trying to be careful.

On the way down, I just grew hotter and hotter. My abaya kept catching on thorny bushes, which was incredibly frustrating. The closer I got to the bottom, the more lightheaded I became, to the point where I actually collapsed a few times. Frankly, it felt humiliating. Despite that, the views were beautiful, and descending into the valley remained exciting. When we finally reached the bottom, I allowed myself to collapse onto the stones to drink some water before we walked into the village.

The village itself was incredibly charming: dirt roads lined with three-story mud-brick structures, and small market areas where locals hung out in the shade of palm trees. It felt like a true oasis, even though I didn’t see any actual water. We walked through the paths, stopping to admire the goats and the fruits and vegetables for sale. There was a little open-air, covered structure where a group of men had gathered to play dominoes. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see us, and a few people even asked us to take their pictures. It was astonishing.

There are not many places left in the world where you can travel and feel like you are truly somewhere different—where there is no mobile phone service, no recognizable Western businesses, and people do not dress the way they do back home. As much as globalization is likely beneficial for the world overall, it does chip away at these unique pockets of cultural experience. But here, at the bottom of a valley within a valley in Yemen, it felt entirely distinct.

Our driver met us at the bottom, picked us up, and drove us through the various towns and villages I mentioned earlier, stopping so we could explore points of interest. We saw small palaces clinging inexplicably to sheer rock faces, brightly coloured buildings, beautifully carved wooden doorways, and winding paths through mud-brick neighborhoods where children peered down at us from windows. Everything we saw was beautiful.

One site of historical significance we visited was the ancestral Bin Laden family home. I don’t think it is a house Osama ever lived in, but it belonged to his father. We couldn’t go inside, but we looked at the exterior and took a few photos. While we were there, a young boy rode by on a motorbike and stopped to gawk at us. John asked him if he could try riding the bike, and the kid nodded. It is not clear if he actually understood the request, because when John took off down the road—going maybe 50 feet—the kid panicked and ran after him yelling, thinking he was being robbed! Thankfully, the misunderstanding was quickly resolved, and everyone had a good chuckle.

Driving between the villages, we occasionally spotted women minding livestock. While the task itself is common, their outfits were extraordinary. These women wore full black abayas, niqabs, hijabs, and what appeared to be gloves. I didn’t find the coverage unusual, since I also prefer to stay covered up in intense sun, but their hats were completely eye-catching. They wore comically tall, peaked, brimmed hats that looked exactly like witches’ hats, except they were straw-coloured. Some had the very peak and the band around the brim painted black or red. We passed them too quickly to get a clear photo, though we tried.

The hat is called a madhalla. They are woven from date palm leaves and can stand up to two feet tall. Apparently, the extreme height is designed to keep the wearer’s head cool by creating an insulating pocket of air. I have no idea how the women balance them so effortlessly while navigating that rugged terrain and tending to goats, but it looked incredibly stylish.

Walking through the villages, we also noticed a number of locals carrying firearms. We were already somewhat accustomed to this, as our tour group traveled with a guide, a driver, and an armed guard. Our driver carried a semi-automatic handgun, while our guard carried an older automatic rifle. Because a few days had passed and we felt more comfortable, we finally asked if we could take pictures with our guard and his weapon. I understand that people in Yemen do not want their country portrayed as a scary, gun-crazed society; it isn’t. That is America. Our guard carried his weapon strictly for our protection. I am not certain we actually needed protecting from anything, but if it provides a job to someone in an economy where employment is scarce, I am all for it.

Our last stop of the day was another village whose name escapes me. We drove to the end of a road and sat on a rocky outcropping looking out over the valley, and there before us was the skyline of Shibam. Shibam was the city I was most excited to visit on this trip. Because we were scheduled to tour it the next day, I will save my full description for the next entry. However, looking out over that cluster of tall, narrow, ancient mud buildings in the middle of the valley, washed in the warm glow of the setting sun, was a truly special experience.

In the early evening, we returned to our beautiful hotel with its commanding view of the valley we had just explored. We had dinner, and I sat outside at leisure, enjoying my cigars and watching the landscape until the view completely dissolved into the blackness of the night.

At one point, while I was relaxing at the hotel in my regular Western clothes, four young girls approached me. One of them spoke a little bit of English. They were fully dressed in abayas, niqabs, and hijabs, so I couldn’t see their faces. They walked up to me, said hello, and giggled. They asked me where I was from, and giggled. They asked if I liked their country, and giggled some more. I asked them a few questions about themselves, and they kept giggling. Eventually, they asked to take a photo with me. I agreed, on the condition that I could also take one with them on my own phone. Finally, twittering with excitement, they all flipped up their niqabs to show me their faces, smiled warmly at me, dropped the veils back down, and ran away giggling.

It was a wonderful interaction. I suppose they don’t see many foreign women. I thought it was incredibly neat that they felt it was appropriate to show me their faces. Personally, I am all for people wearing whatever they choose to wear, but I struggle with the idea of anyone being forced to wear certain attire because a government, culture, or religion dictates it. Even that is complicated; if your religion prescribes a dress code, and you love your faith and genuinely want to follow it, then there is nothing oppressive about that choice. Still, I certainly have mixed feelings about societal systems that imply women must be covered up. I don’t know what the exact situation was for these girls, but I was simply happy to have met them.

This was by far the best day of the trip so far. While the first two days were great, today was truly amazing. By this point, all the money we spent and the bureaucratic hoops we had to jump through to get here felt completely worth it. The next day, we would finally visit the ultimate highlight of the trip: the ancient city of Shibam.

Asia Yemen Yemen Trip 2025

Yemen – Mukalla

After a short sleep at the Hawta Palace Hotel in Seiyun, Yemen after our arrival, I awoke buzzing with excitement. We had just arrived the night before, but apart from buying our clothes at the local market, we hadn’t seen or done anything yet. I couldn’t wait for what the day had in store. I got up early and took a walk around the grounds. Because it had been dark when we arrived the previous evening, this was the first time I saw the light hitting the mountains and the flowers on the trees. It was like a beautiful oasis. I had a morning cigar and drank coffee while I waited for John and Doc to join me.

Our guide and driver arrived, and we drove to Mukalla, the main city of the Hadhramaut region on the Gulf of Aden. This was our first real glimpse of Yemen, and it made a great first impression. The city was bustling. It lacked the chaotic crowds of major cities in India or Africa, but it was still incredibly lively. People were going to and from the markets and shops, and children were out in the streets playing football and pool.

Most people looked at us with some degree of curiosity, but no one gave us the kinds of glances I’ve experienced in other cities—where people look at you with disdain or subtle hostility. Everyone we interacted with seemed friendly. Of course, those people were strictly men and children. There were women out on the streets, but they were entirely covered, including their faces, and they did not greet or acknowledge us. The men were friendly and the children were curious. John and Doc kicked a football around with the kids in an alleyway while I took some pictures and watched goats wander between the buildings.

The liveliest part of the city was along the waterfront. A river ran through the city, and it was filled with people on boats flying flags high and playing music. Yemen has two flags: one for the South and one for the North. The people here were flying the Southern flag. Additionally, some people and children were carrying pictures of figures I understood to be leaders or notable political and military figures of Southern Yemen. You know how kids love to carry around pictures of famous politicians and military figures? Maybe it’s a Yemeni thing.

The political history of Yemen is far too complicated for me to explain here. Go read a book. In short, though, Yemen used to be part of the Ottoman Empire. In 1918, the region became independent but was split into two halves: North Yemen was an independent state, while South Yemen became a British protectorate and, later, a British colony. The UK left in 1967. The two halves were briefly unified, but a series of wars broke out between them until 1990, when the People’s Democratic Republic of Yemen (South Yemen) and the Yemen Arab Republic (North Yemen) officially united to form the Republic of Yemen.

Unfortunately, the fighting has not stopped. The region operates, effectively, as two separate countries: the North and West are controlled by the Houthis, while the South and East are held by the Presidential Leadership Council (PLC) and southern factions. Skirmishes and bombings are ongoing, mostly concentrated in the northwest. All of this fighting has created extreme poverty and food insecurity across the country, a crisis compounded by the fact that most Western nations maintain strict sanctions against Yemen.

The view from the harbour was absolutely beautiful, with whitewashed, boxy buildings clustered together along the shore. The water shifted between different shades of turquoise, and everything was framed by the dry desert mountains. It was the sort of place I wished I could have wandered around on my own. It certainly felt safe enough to do so, but that is simply not how things are done there, so we stuck close to our guide as he led us through the city markets before we stopped for lunch.

The restaurant we went to (I don’t know the name, but it was a place we would visit more than once on this trip) seated us in a private room separated by a curtain. We sat shoeless on layers of carpets. In the middle of the floor was a blanket layout holding all the plates of food, which we ate largely with our hands. The thing that always amused me about these meals was that it wasn’t just shoes lined up by the door; various handguns and weapons were also set aside on the carpet just long enough for everyone to eat. Shoes off, guns down. Time to eat.

After lunch, we visited a fruit, vegetable, and fish market, which is always delightful. I don’t know what it is about seeing food sold in other countries, but it never ceases to amaze me. Mangoes stacked up in slightly different ways than they are back home? Fascinating! Truthfully, it is just interesting to see how different people go about their daily lives, and a local market is a great way to experience that.

[Update December 2025: Mukalla was such a pleasant city to visit and seemed so safe, but in late December of 2025, the port was bombed by Saudi forces targeting unauthorized weapon shipments. It serves as a stark reminder that things can seem safe—and may actually be safe for a period of time—but in volatile parts of the world, realities can change instantly. In short: go when you can, because you never know when a window will close.]

Later in the afternoon, just before sunset, we made our way to a new accommodation: the Ramada Mukalla Hotel. It felt more like a standard western hotel compared to our last stop. My room was adequate, and the property featured a massive lobby cafe where the staff had no issue with me smoking cigars indoors. I did quite a bit of that during our down times.

One of the things I quickly realized on a tour like this is that you have quite a bit of down time. The mornings start a little late, the evenings wrap up a little early, and there is always time for a rest in the afternoon; plus, there is a lot of eating. It was a bit too much food for my liking, but I certainly can’t complain about being well taken care of.

It was a perfectly pleasant day visiting Mukalla, followed by a quiet evening at the hotel. The next day, we would head toward even better sights as we left the city and ascended into the valley to experience village life.

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London Layover: Belgravia

One of my greatest travel joys is having an exciting destination to visit with the bonus of getting a long layover in London on the way there. I say it so often that’s cliched, but London is probably my favourite city. I used to live there, and have visited it many times so for me it is a perfect place to have a day layover as I already know my way around and I’m happy to revisit it.

The way I approach London as a layover is to pick a neighbourhood that I want to visit and generally stick to that neighbourhood. Sometimes it will be because there’s something in particular that I want to do, like visiting a certain museum or a cigar store, and other times it will be just an area that I haven’t been to in a long time or forever. Obviously, the length of my layover somewhat dictates what I do. On my way to Yemen, I had some time in London and decided to base my visit around a cigar lounge.

I smoke cigars a lot in London, and that usually finds me going to Saint James Street, but I had been hearing about a lounge called TomTom and decided to make that my focus. I took the Heathrow Express into Paddington station and switched to the Tube, and took the underground to Sloane Square. From there it was a short walk to the TomTom cigar lounge. But what a walk.

I don’t know the names of all the streets that I walked down, but if you look at a map and you trace the route from Sloane Square to TomTom, you’ll have an idea. I think one of them was Pavilion Road. Anyway, the streets were ridiculously charming. All bricks with Union Jack flags strung up and every door festooned with colourful flowers. It was a charming neighbourhood. It seemed that every second window had delectable looking pastries and the weather was just nice enough that people were starting to sit outside.

Just as I got to the cigar lounge, I noticed a cute pink tea and cake shop across the street and I couldn’t resist. It was called Peggy Porschen cakes. I had never heard of it before, but they certainly did a good job of drawing me in with their pink floral exterior. I went inside settled on a pot of tea and a slice of a cake that I surely didn’t need but was happy to have. I sat outside and enjoyed my delectable treats feeling very girly. Just then the weather turned and I headed over to TomTom.

TomTom is a bit of an odd cigar merchant. They have a walk-in humidor but in the humidor only one of each type of cigar for sale is on display. I’ve never seen anything like it. Normally the merchant will display a box of the cigars that are on sale this one just one of each. It had a very minimalist appeal. Cigars in London can be quite expensive and none of them are cheap, but while there are options that are hundreds of Pounds you can still get a decent high end Cuban cigar for less than $100. I picked one of those.

Had I not known that they had a cigar lounge, I would not have discovered it on my own. The retail portion of the business was quite small and there were a couple of seats outside but nothing to suggest that there was a lounge, however when I asked about it, they led me through a slightly hidden door at the back of the humidor and I went down a flight of stairs into the basement. This is cigar lounge is quite cool. It’s very stylish and has a little bit of a 1970s flavour. Unfortunately, I was the only one in there when I went so it was a bit strange to have it all to myself, but I appreciated the time to relax and enjoy my cigar. I did that before deciding out of an abundance of caution that I should go back to the airport. I probably could have spent another couple of hours, but I had a flight to catch to Egypt and then another one to Yemen, where I was meeting up with people, and I couldn’t risk missing any of my flights.

I wandered back to the Tube station through Belgravia, which honestly doesn’t even sound like a real place. It sounds like something out of a Harry Potter book. I caught the train back to Heathrow, my spirits high and my energy fueled by tea, cake, and tobacco.

Onwards to Cairo.

North America USA

Where to Smoke Cigars in Detroit

Detroit was a good cigar town. You can’t smoke everywhere, but patios seem to be fine and there are several cigar lounges.

In the downtown core there were four good spots.

La Casa Cigars and Lounge. This place had a well-stocked, walk-in humidor on one side and a bar/cigar lounge on the other. The humidor had the best selection of Foundation cigars I had seen (amongst many other brands) and the prices were very good. The bar side was casual with a pub-like feel. TVs and high-topped tables and bar seating, along with a few sofas. A good place to go and watch the game. What game? Any game. We went there twice and both times it was busy with a crowd, friendly, and a bit loud. A comfortable neighbourhood kind of place. It is also quite close to the baseball stadium, so it made for a good pre and post-game cigar spot.

The London Chop House aka LCH Cigar Lounge. I wrote about this place in my other Detroit post. It is a proper, old fashioned steak joint with all of the manly décor you would expect. It is dark, and fancy, yet cozy, with live jazz and a steakhouse-y menu. Iceberg wedge salads, garlic mashed potatoes, and various cuts of meat. Great cocktails and service. You cannot smoke in the restaurant, but upstairs is a bar with a small walk-in humidor and that bar is cigar friendly. You could go and visit only the lounge, but I think skipping the restaurant would be a mistake. It is just the perfect atmosphere, and I say this as a vegetarian. There was literally nothing on the menu that I could eat apart from asparagus and salad, and I still recommend it for the ambience, music, and service. (And the cigars, obviously.)

Uralli Cigar Bar. This is place is inside the Detroit Club – a private members’ club. The kind of place where there is a dress code and men go after a long day at the office to drink and avoid going home to their families. While you need to be a member to go to the Club, membership is not required for the cigar bar. The Club looks quite exclusive and I worried I would be stopped at the door, but I wasn’t and I was able to go to the second floor to Uralli Cigar Bar. It is a bit of a weird room. The whole building is old, but somehow this room feel less old; maybe like it was renovated (more1980s than 1880s). That said, I had a great time. It was very quiet when I arrived about 10:30pm). Just two people at the bar: a couple from Detroit. They were very friendly and they and the bartender and I chatted for over an hour as I enjoyed a cigar and a cocktail. They did have a small selection of cigars for sale, but I didn’t check them out as I had my own and, after a few cocktails already that evening, my attention to detail was waning. I would have happily stayed for another round, but it was late and I was pushing the limit into being tipsy.

Did it My Way Detroit Cigar and Wine Bar. The newest cigar lounge in Detroit at the time we went, this place is slick. It is fancy in a VIP, urban way with an illuminated bar, stylish lounge furniture, and cool art. Importantly, it has a big walk-in humidor for shopping as well private humidor lockers for cigar storage. We went there twice. The cocktails were great, the music was good, and the bartenders were friendly. The first time we went it was earlier in the day and it was quieter and chill; the second time it was evening and the place was hopping. Both were great experiences.

I found online many other places to smoke in and around Detroit (I regrettably did not get to Byrd’s Cigar Lounge), but only visited these four, all of which were walking distance to each other. Smoking outside in Detroit elicited no negative comments or nasty glances. It was a non-issue. At each of the smoking lounges, not only was there a varied cross section of patrons, but there were even people who did not smoke cigars enjoying the space. It dd not feel snobbish. It was so refreshing to be able to enjoy a cigar without being hidden away or segregated. Sometimes it feels like places like this are disappearing in North America, but Detroit made me and my cigars feel welcome.

Tag: cigar