cigar Archives - Wandering North

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.

Europe United Kingdom Yemen Trip 2025

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.

North America USA

Detroit: A Surprising Weekend in Motor City

Why Detroit?

After my trip to Belize, I wanted to get a Nexus card. For people who don’t live in Canada or the United States, a Nexus card is something that gets approved by the Canadian and American governments that allows you to cross the border by going into express lanes on the freeway and in the airport and without answering a bunch of questions because they’ve already vetted you as a not a security risk. I thought it would be handy to have because sometimes I’m transiting through airports in the United States and I have gotten ensnared in long immigration queues and almost missed my flights. The problem was that you must get an interview done and I had been trying for close to a year to get an interview at the closest place to where I live in Vancouver, but the interview slots were always full. Apparently, this is a common problem. When I looked for alternative interview spots, one place that always had available times was Detroit. I had been a bit curious about Detroit, so I thought this was a good opportunity to do a weekend trip somewhere new and accomplish something practical at the same time. And that’s how I ended up going to Detroit in April 2025.

Initially I thought I would just go for one night do the interview and come back the next day, but I wanted to be able to bring cigars back into Canada, which requires staying out of the country for at least 48 hours, so it became a two-night weekend trip. Of course, I was going to go solo as I basically always do and is my preference.

Not Solo Travel

But then things changed. One of my cigar buddies from my cigar club (we will call him ‘Mariner’ for the purpose of this post) mentioned that the weekend I was going was the season opener for the Detroit Tigers (a baseball team) and he has a dream of visiting every professional baseball stadium in America and he had not been to the one in Detroit. So, he said, maybe he would go the same weekend as me and we could go to the game together. And this is how I got hoodwinked into going to Detroit for a weekend with a cigar buddy. #notsolotravel.

I agreed to it though; it’s not like he ambushed me, but I was a little bit nervous. What if it spoiled the whole weekend? It didn’t. It was certainly a different experience, and I don’t think I would trade in my solo trips for buddy trips very often, but it was a good time. I think traveling with someone easygoing is probably the key and Mariner is good company and easy going.

We landed in Detroit separately. I arrived first and took a taxi directly to the interview station, which is in no man’s land between the United States and Canada. They did the interview in five minutes and sadly did not ask me to recount my travels to far-flung and dangerous locales, and I took the taxi back to my hotel to begin my short holiday. I was a little bit nervous about applying for the Nexus card because I thought, surely, they will never give it to me after I’ve been to so many countries that the United States warns against, but a few months later I received approval for the card.

Where I stayed in Detroit

I had selected the Siren Hotel. I looked at all the hotels in downtown Detroit and most of them were way too expensive, especially considering the Canadian / U.S. dollar exchange. I wanted to stay somewhere central and there were a couple that were less expensive but did not look very appealing. I picked The Siren because it was just barely in my budget and it was oozing historical charm. It was designed by architect Robert Finn in 1926 as the headquarters for the Wurlitzer organ company, and then it was recently almost torn down but was saved and turned into this hotel. They’ve embraced the historical design of the building, and it is picturesque at every corner. The rooms are a little more basic but still cozy. I absolutely loved it; I think it might have been a step down for Mariner, but he could have stayed somewhere else.

Art and Protest

The first thing I decided to do, because I didn’t think that Mariner would have any interest in it, was I went to the Detroit Institute of the Arts.

I walked there and paid a small fee. The museum is fantastic. Like, it’s New York or London fantastic. It has historical paintings and portraits as well as 20th century works of art that are significant. It’s probably most famous for having the Diego Rivera paintings called The Detroit Industry Murals (1932–1933), which are impressive depictions of early 20^th Century industry, but I liked the most some of the very modern works of art by black artists. It was just excellent and exceeded any expectations that I had.

*one wall of the* *Detroit Industry Murals (1932–1933)*

When I left the building, outside there was a massive protest against Donald Trump. I was in the USA and happy to see that people were exercising their civil liberties. I had been a little bit nervous about going to the States at this point because I had heard so many terrible things about the border and because relations between Canada and the United States had taken a surprising downward turn, but I will say that everyone I interacted with on that weekend, including the border officers, were incredibly friendly. In fact, many people that I talked to, when they found out I was from Canada, actually thanked me for coming down and apologized for their president. Certainly, they didn’t have to do that, but it was nice to feel so welcome.

Leaving the art gallery, I decided to take public transit back to my hotel. There was a streetcar that was headed in that direction. I sat at the stop and chatted with a couple of older ladies that had just left the protest. And on board, the two ladies and everyone seemed to be chatting with everyone else. Say which will about the US, but I find the people to be extremely friendly. The incredible thing about the streetcar was that it was free. In fact, all public transportation in Detroit is free. If I want to take the bus for two blocks in Vancouver it cost me over $3. This was great. Downtown Detroit also has a monorail (Monorail!) which I rode at one point just for the views of the city and, again, it’s free so why not?

Cathedrals of Industry and Finance

Back at the hotel, I met up with Mariner, and we went out for tacos and strolled around. We had two major objectives, apart from my Nexus interview, on this trip; one was to visit all of the cigar stores and lounges and the other was to go to the baseball game. More on the baseball game later. But we also wanted to check out Detroit, so we walked around the downtown core to take in the vibe and the architecture. It was Saturday, so maybe it was quieter than it would be during a weekday, but the city felt almost deserted. It was a little bit unsettling. Where were all the people? I had heard that Detroit was unsafe and there was no part of it that felt unsafe to me, but it did feel strange that it was so quiet. Maybe it is partly due to people driving their cars and not walking very much so it leads to quieter sidewalks? I never did get the answer, but I didn’t love the vibes of downtown Detroit; that said, there are a lot of beautiful things to look at in downtown Detroit; some interesting sculptures and some murals, but what it really shines for are the buildings.

Detroit was one of the major cities in the United States in about the 1920s as it was the centre of automobile manufacturing, giving it the nickname ‘Motor City’ and it became extremely wealthy. This is obvious as you walk around because there are many tall and beautiful buildings all built in around that period. The terrific thing is their lobbies seem to be open all the time so you can just walk in and appreciate the architecture, which we did. Some of them are truly extraordinary, incorporating with elaborate church-like arches, painted ceilings, and glittering mosaics. Really inspiring stuff. The best downtown one was definitely the Guardian (500 Griswold Street), built in 1928-1929 it has an art deco style with Aztec Designs. It is amazing.

We hit up a cigar lounge, again more on that in the next post, and went to the baseball game.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

I am not a sports person. I enjoy a bit of boxing and American football at my cigar club because it is on a lot, but I don’t follow any sports and I think it’s all a bit silly, but I am always up for new experiences, so I agreed to go to the baseball game. Mariner is a baseball fanatic. Like a savant. He knows every statistic, every player, every mote of history and trivia. He was excited to be at the game, but maybe not as excited as I was once I walked into the arena and saw how much of a spectacle it was. All around the stadium there were festivities. Buskers playing music. Vendors selling disgusting foods. People dressed up in jerseys and costumes. Inside, there were even games and best of all, a Ferris wheel where each of the little compartments was shaped like a baseball. Of course, I insisted that we ride on it and we were the only adults on board without any children to accompany us. It was excellent. But then came the time to watch the actual baseball. I have watched baseball on TV and it is extremely boring. Watching baseball at the stadium though was pretty good. It was a sunny day, and we had excellent seats and it wasn’t loud and obnoxious like a hockey game. Everybody was chill and no one tried to high-five me. I liked reading about the players on the big screen and analyzing the walkout songs that they played for each hitter. Did I really pay attention to the game? No, not really, but I had popcorn and I was enjoying being there. I don’t remember who they were playing and I don’t remember who won. We left after the 8th inning. I’m not entirely sure why, but Mariner just said he had seen enough so we left and we went for more cigars and dinner.

*Comerica Park-Home of the Detroit Tigers*

We went for dinner at the London Chop House. We picked it because it was a fancy steakhouse, and Mariner likes fancy steaks, but also because it is one of those classic old school steak houses where everything is rich brown woods and leathers with dim lighting and live jazz. It was actually a person I met at a cigar lounge in San Pedro Belize who recommended this cigar spot in Detroit. Anyway, it was a perfect place. The average age of the band members must have been about 75 and they were terrific. It was just the right atmosphere. I had salad and a martini. We then went upstairs to enjoy cigars in the lounge, which lacked a bit in atmosphere, but a leather sofa, a cigar, and a cocktail was enough to bring me happiness.

After that it was late and Mariner tapped out and went back to the hotel to sleep. I carried onto the third cigar lounge of the trip.

(More on these and the other cigar lounges we visited in this post: Where to Smoke Cigars in Detroit.)

Street Walking in Nostalgic Detroit

The good thing about traveling with Mariner was that he was not keen to get up and do anything right away in the morning, while I was. So I left him to read the newspaper and sleep in and eat eggs or whatever people do, and I went off exploring. I walked countless blocks in a different direction with the goal of seeing a particular building that I was interested in seeing and a mural that I had heard about that had both Axel Foley from Beverly Hills Cop and Tom Selleck from Magnum PI painted on it, as well as RoboCop.

While Detroit might be famous for its baseball team or its car manufacturing history or its tradition of gun violence, to me Detroit will forever be the city that Axel Foley was from in the movie Beverly Hills Cop. My favourite comedy of all time. That opening scene in Beverly Hills Cop where it shows the people of Detroit as Glenn Frey’s “The Heat is On” plays is burned in my brain forever, and as I walked around on that morning I listened to that song on my headphones and the city really came alive. Especially as I walked around the more economically depressed areas. Why not create my own soundtrack for movies for cities that I’m visiting? You can’t do that when you’re walking around with someone else. I found the mural and took some pictures of it. I know that RoboCop was set in Detroit and I’ve seen it but I’m not a big RoboCop person but I was excited to see Axel Foley and also Tom Selleck dressed as Magnum Pi, another of my favourite TV shows. Tom Selleck is a native of Detroit which is why he wore a Detroit Tiger baseball cap in the show.

Anyone who’s reading this and is under the age of 40 probably has no idea what I’m talking about and that’s fine. This part isn’t for you.

In that area were other impressive murals and appealing old houses.

I walked over to the Fisher Building and admired its stunning lobbies. There’s a theatre there as well, which I couldn’t get into, but I bet it’s stunning. I went for coffee at a charming little spot called Café Sous Terre and then I caught an Uber over to a different neighbourhood to visit a couple of businesses.

I kept reading about how Shinola was this famous Detroit store and that it was a must see kind of thing and so I decided to go to that store and I guess it is historic and everything they make in there is from Detroit and all the leather goods and watches seem nice but it really was of no interest to me; however, next door was Third Man Records. A record shop owned by Jack White of the White Stripes who is also from Detroit. It’s super cool and I thought it was worth the visit, unfortunately on the weekends the record manufacturing part of it wasn’t in operation but you could see it through a window. If you go at the right times during the week, you could take a little tour and watch them making records. I would have loved to have seen that. But in the record shop itself it was neat there was lots of music memorabilia and vinyl for sale and books and it just had a really cool vibe. Sometimes they have concerts. I left there and meandered my way back to the hotel to meet up with Mariner.

After that, we went for a cigar at a lounge and just sort of ambled about the city. Had a tasty dinner at Standby, where I had a cocktail made with roasted leeks (interesting but not amazing), followed by more cigars and then sleep.

The next morning, we flew home separately via Toronto.

It was a delightful trip to Detroit. I think if you are in North America and want an unusual city break weekend, it is a good choice, but if you are into cigars I would definitely recommend it.

I go into more detail about the cigar lounges in this post.

And I write about my brief layover visit to Toronto in this post.

Belize Central America / Caribbean North America

24 hours in Belize City

I left the island paradise of San Pedro not the way I arrived, on a tiny plane, but by ferry. I wanted to have both experiences: one flying above the technicolor blue waters and the other skimming on top of them. I preferred the plane, but the ferry was cheap (about $30 US) and convenient.

I boarded at the San Pedro Ferry Express terminal on San Pedro Island. I bought my ticket online ahead of time for the 7am departure and picked it up in person. I queued up with the other travellers. The boat was close to sold out and the seating was first come first serve and if you end up in the back of the queue you might end up on the upper deck or on the sides, in which case you would be in the sun the entire time. Not fancying melanoma, I got a seat in the middle. (It looks like there might be different types of boats, but the one I was on had two levels and was open on the sides and on top.) It isn’t particularly comfortable; just a hard seat to sit in for the 90 minute journey. The sea air was nice, but there wasn’t much to see and it was loud. The plane was more fun, but I was very happy to arrive at the ferry terminal in downtown Belize City. No need of taxis or buses, I was able to walk to my accommodations.

But first a breakfast by the water.

I walked to my hotel, the charming One South Place Hotel. It is in an old house just steps from the water, and I had a room on the top floor with a private patio and view of the sunrise. I would only be there for one night, but it was a nice place to spend time.

*My accommodations and me on the street out front*

I had only about 24 hours, so I had to make the most of it. I started walking. Reading about Belize City there really were not any major attractions I wanted to see. There weren’t even any minor ones. But the day started out promising. I walked through my neighbourhood back to the downtown centre. It was sunny and I was in a good mood. On the way I was delighted by the large sea-worn houses with accents and showing the ravages of time. The streets were pretty. Flowering bushes. Cats and dogs.

The closer I got to the centre of the city, the buildings became a little grander and there were statues of people that I was unfamiliar with. It also got busier. Belize City feels a bit like a poor city. There is no fancy or modern downtown core. The whole place feels a little bit rough, but lively during the day. I walked past people playing checkers and groups of people buying food from street vendors and sitting in parks passing the time. I visited a cute little bookstore slash café (Bricks & Books), how could I resist that? Even if Belize City was not postcard pretty, it was colourful.

Belize City, with a population of just under 65,000 people, is the biggest city in the country. It was founded in the 1600s by the British. I assume there were already people living there. Although Belize City is the largest city in the country, it is not the capital. That honour goes to a small city called Belmopan, more in the centre of Belize and with only about 20,000 residents. Apparently it was some planned community from the 1970s. Being the biggest municipality, Belize City should Have a little more going on than it seemed to. It was, in my opinion, a bit sleepy. Maybe it’s because I was there on the weekend, but it felt very quiet.

I made my way over to the Museum of Belize, which was the only attraction that I had planned to go to. If you’re in Belize City and passing time, the museum is worth a visit – but just barely. It’s small and not particularly interesting. It did not have too much on display and I was a bit disappointed, but still there are some nice and interesting things to look at and it was good to be out of the heat for a short time.

I walked around the neighbourhoods more. The thing that I did like about Belize City was all of the dilapidated buildings. You could see that a lot of them were quite lovely at one point in time. For example, one had balcony railings with swans carved into them and others had delicate wooden trim around the rooftops like gingerbread houses, but they were all in pretty poor repair, some of them maybe even abandoned. They still had a certain beauty. I also liked all the various colourful end differently designed breeze-blocks that added interest to even basic buildings. Essential in a climate like this.

After several hours of mostly aimless wandering, I really had nothing else that I wanted to do, except that Carlos at the Havana Cigars store in San Pedro had told me about a good place to enjoy a cigar on a patio, and so that is where I went next. The Cork Street Whisky Bar might be my new favourite place, at least in Belize City. It was in what I can only assume was once a mansion just across the street from the sea, set on a green yard with a big patio. The inside was beautiful like an old library or a men’s club; all outfitted in leather and mahogany. But I had my sights set on the patio, which was sheltered from the sun and off the ground and had lots of comfortable seating options. I settled into a wicker chair and had two cocktails and two cigars and watched the waves crash in. Very relaxing.

I went back to my hotel room for a bit and then decided that I was starving and I wanted to get something to eat. I was a little bit nervous because I had heard nothing but bad things about the safety situation in Belize City. It felt fine during the day, but night was a different question and I wasn’t exactly right in the centre. I decided to go out but just to stick to the main streets; and it did seem fine although the streets were quite empty. I walked a little ways until I found a restaurant that was open and I had a completely uninspiring vegetarian burrito sitting by the canal where they wouldn’t let me smoke a cigar because they said people would complain, notwithstanding that everyone else was smoking cigarettes.

I walked back to my room, passing some particularly interesting murals along the way.

*Murals, the last one with a voodoo theme?*

The next morning, I had a little bit of time before I had to head to the airport, and so I went out for a nice breakfast and a walk.

Belize City is barely worth a visit. I hate to say that. I hate to be mean but, it was not that interesting. Spending a day and a night there was perfect; any longer and I would have struggled to find things to do. I am glad that I visited it as I think it would have been a shame if all I saw of Belize was San Pedro. I wouldn’t object to going back to Belize and seeing some of its jungles or Mayan ruins, but it is not high on my list; San Pedro however will continue to live in my memory fondly.

And so ended my workation to Belize.

My next trip would be just a couple of weeks later and will keep me closer to home. A cigar weekend in Detroit.

Belize Central America / Caribbean North America

Island Life in San Pedro, Belize

One of the perks of my job, in addition to my vacation time, is that every year for the past three years I get to take a week and work remotely. I can travel anywhere, but I stay in North America to remain in similar time zones for work availability. So far, I’ve done these ‘workations’ in Antigua, Guatemala and Estelí, Nicaragua. This year, I decided to try something a bit more tropical and go to San Pedro, Belize. I had never been to Belize, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity.

Last Night I dreamt of San Pedro

Belize is, of course, the tiny country clinging to the east side of Guatemala and just below the tip of Mexico, on the Caribbean Sea. Its mainland has jungles and Mayan ruins, but what I wanted to visit was one of its many islands: San Pedro. Why did I pick San Pedro? One reason was just that I wanted to try a tropical island vacation, which I don’t think I’ve ever done (Cuba doesn’t count); but I specifically picked San Pedro because I saw that it had several cigar stores and because it is the island that Madonna sang about in her song La Isla Bonita. Honestly, the Madonna thing was really the reason that I chose it, but the cigar stores made it definitive. I was a huge Madonna fan as a kid and I’m sure I sang “Last night I dreamt of San Pedro” a million times, so why not visit the island itself?

Getting There

I flew to Belize City and then caught a tiny little plane on an airline called Tropic Air to fly the 15-minute flight to San Pedro. There are two options for getting from Belize City to San Pedro: one is the short flight and the other is a ferry. I decided to take the flight there and the ferry back because I wanted to have both experiences. (I wrote about the ferry trip in my post about Belize City.) The plane was super cool. It was tiny and it flew over shockingly turquoise waters and tiny little islands. It was amazing. And the airport, if you can call it an airport, is right in downtown San Pedro and it was about a two-minute walk from where I was staying.

Where I stayed: A Trailer by the Sea

Accommodations for workations are a little bit different than what I would book if I was on holiday. Since I am going to be in the place for about a week or more, I need to make sure that I have a suitable space for working and strong Wi-Fi. It has to be comfortable enough and I need a place where I can enjoy a cigar. I couldn’t afford a resort and the central hotels looked lacklustre, but I found this terrific little Airbnb. It was a bit weird. It was a trailer that had a little bit of an extra space added onto it (to add width to the kitchen and put in doors that open onto a wooden patio. It sat on the beach in downtown San Pedro and was painted blue and it looks very cute. It also might look a little trailer trash to some people, but I spent my early years in a trailer, so I was right at home. Really, the whole thing was bigger than my apartment and I thought what would be better than waking up in the morning and having my coffee on my own private patio looking at the beach or spending the evening in a hammock with a cigar.

*i know, it is not fancy, but very cozy*

It was an awesome place to stay. I loved it. I had all my needs met. I even had a trio of cats that came to keep me company on the patio each morning. The only downside was that there was a boat that was parked on the beach in front of the Airbnb and there was a homeless man that was living in the boat. For the most part, it wasn’t a problem; I didn’t see him or he was just doing things around the boat. To be clear it wasn’t his boat; he was just squatting in it. I am sure he was harmless, but I felt a little bit creeped out at night staying in the trailer with its big glass patio doors that didn’t have a curtain, meaning that anyone could just walk by and peer in, but I never felt unsafe. I live in a high-rise so ground level accommodations always feel a little weird to me. But, hey, this is island life; there are no highrises.

How I Spent Time

I was in San Pedro for exactly a week. I arrived on the weekend, so I had time to explore before I started working. San Pedro is small. During my time there I walked the length of the island a few times. But for the most part I stuck to the centre where most of the businesses were. You’re never more than a blocks from the beach in San Pedro.

Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows that I don’t like the beach, but I can’t deny that it was beautiful to look at. Fortunately, the downtown area of San Pedro has a string of restaurants and cafes all of which have beach-side seating. So I got to enjoy a lot of coffees, cocktails, and cigars looking out at the waves and the swaying palm trees.

San Pedro was a great destination for my workation because, while it was very beautiful, there’s not much to do. In a day and a half, I felt like I had explored the island and seen what I wanted to see, so when Monday came and it was time for me to settle into work I didn’t feel distracted things that I wanted to enjoy. The island is mostly beaches and resorts and beach bars and beach restaurants and shops selling hammocks and flip flops and souvenirs. Away from the very touristy areas it was interesting to see the neighbourhoods where people lived and the little food kiosks they shopped at and some local cafes and bars. A lot of the houses were still brightly coloured and adorable.

It is all completely pleasant. One of the neat things about the island is that there are no cars. Except for a few delivery vehicles, everyone gets around by golf carts. And there are a lot of golf carts. Tourists rent them and they seem to drive them everywhere, even if it would be faster for them to walk. The streets are positively clogged with them and if I was driving, I think it would be very annoying, but as a pedestrian I wasn’t bothered by it. It was just charming and quaint.

Speaking of tourists, while I had visions of myself going to some of these popular beach bars and enjoying my evening cigar, that idea went away quickly once I visited a couple of these spots. The tourists that were at these locations were probably nice people but not people that I really wanted to hang around with. A lot of conservative politics and alcohol. A little too loud and just not my crowd; so after that, I picked quieter spots where I could simply listen to the waves or enjoy a book or a podcast with my cigar.

So, I walked and I took in the views of turquoise waters and palm trees, white sands and colourful buildings and little glimpses into the lives of people that made this island their home. Many of which were immigrants or expats from other countries.

One thing that was a little bit of a drawback for having San Pedro as my location destination, as opposed to when I went to Guatemala and Nicaragua, was that San Pedro was expensive. My Airbnb was a very good deal, but going out for food and drinks was pricey. Everything was priced similarly to how it would be priced at home in Canada except it was priced in American dollars so for me that meant that everything was about 40% more expensive. It wasn’t prohibitive, but it certainly wasn’t a bargain. What was shockingly expensive was groceries. On the first weekend I went to a local supermarket and bought some supplies for the week. Coffee, yogurt, fruits, that sort of thing, and I couldn’t believe how much it was. I think I found a can of chickpeas that was about $7.00 US and a package of four yellow peppers that was $14.00 US. I guess this is part of the problem of island life.

Once my work week kicked into gear. I started each day with a walk somewhere nearby to grab a coffee and get a bit of exercise and then I worked until about 5:00 PM and then went out for dinner and a cigar. There were lots of appealing restaurants to choose from in San Pedro and most of them had at least one vegetarian dish – usually a delicious coconut curry. Most nights I had a virgin piña colada or some other tropical drink sans alcohol. Sitting on a patio with a cigar and listening to some music was very relaxing.

Smoking Cigars in San Pedro

As I said, one of the reasons that I chose San Pedro was because it had cigar stores. There were three, two of which had proper lounges and one that had a little patio for smoking. Smoking on patios and Belize was not a problem, but it’s still nice to go to a lounge to visit with other cigar smokers. On my first day I went to all three lounges.

One was called Saul’s Cigar & Coffee House. They had some of their own cigars and some other brands that they sold including some Cubans although the Cubans were, in my estimation, fake. I bought some of the cigars they rolled themselves to try and sat on their narrow front patio and watch the traffic roll by. Their cigars were OK but a bit expensive, although the staff was very nice and it was a pleasant place to sit.

There was also the newly opened La Casa del Habano Belize which was gleaming and pristine. It was a beautiful store with a well-stocked humidor selling all Cuban cigars. In wonderful condition and with OK prices compared to Canada. I went there twice and both times I got a cigar and sat in the air-conditioned environment in a leather chair enjoying an espresso and chatting with the women that work there. They were very nice, but they weren’t cigar smokers and were still learning about cigars. I just chatted with the staff or did a bit of work on my computer. It wasn’t my favorite place to go but I can’t deny that it was a nice place for a cigar.

My favourite place, and the place that I went nearly every day that I was in San Pedro is a cigar store called Havana Cigars. It is owned by a fellow who lives in San Pedro and has for many years, but he is originally from Havana. Nearly every time I went in there were other people, locals and tourists, stopping in to buy or smoke cigars. It had just the right atmosphere. I felt like I was a local almost from the first time that I went in and everyone went in was up for chatting. He was a great host and I enjoyed chatting with him. Particularly I got the scoop on local politics in San Pedro and we talked about the situation in Cuba. I won’t recount the stories that he told me, but he told me some incredible tales about his life in Havana and how he left on a small boat bound for Miami. I’d never really heard anyone tell me their story of fleeing Cuba and it was fascinating and emotional. It’s his story to tell, but I feel lucky for having heard it.

i think a third of my camera roll was cigar pictures.
And, yes, i did travel to Belize with an ashtray from my law firm. That’s normal, right? (Bottom right)

Looking Back

San Pedro was great. I would recommend it to pretty much anyone who wanted that sort of a beachy, chill trip. In addition to the cigar smoking and staring at the waves experience that I had, there are beaches to visit and stingrays and to swim with and other similar activities. I had planned to take a short flight over the Blue Hole (one of the main activities) but it was exorbitantly expensive and so I scrapped that idea. If I had not been in San Pedro working I think it would have been perfect for me as a two-day trip because I would have been bored after that; but it was wonderful to be there on this slower pace where I could keep busy with work and in my off hours I could just enjoy the island vibes. It was a special experience.

Onwards

After my week in San Pedro, I still had about two days before I had to be back at work (one of which would be taken up with flying, so I decided to spend a day and a night visiting Belize city before returning home. More on that in the next post (here).

Tag: cigar

Why Detroit?

Not Solo Travel

Where I stayed in Detroit

Art and Protest

Cathedrals of Industry and Finance

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

Street Walking in Nostalgic Detroit

Last Night I dreamt of San Pedro

Getting There

Where I stayed: A Trailer by the Sea

How I Spent Time

Smoking Cigars in San Pedro

Looking Back

Onwards