cigar Archives - Page 18 of 22

Asia Georgia (the country) Georgia Trip 2014

Tbilisi Loves You: First impressions

My flight from Warsaw landed in Tbilisi at 4:00am, a time i am well acquainted with but after almost two days of plane travel i was bleary eyed. The sign that greets you at customs says, “Tbilisi: the city that loves you.” And i felt the love, or at least, i felt welcomed. It was too dark and early to do anything, so i settled into a comfortable cafe in the airport terminal and drank coffee and smoked (inside the cafe) until the sky lightened. I haggled briefly and successfully with a man who said “i have car. I drive you,” and we drove to the city. (The price: 25 lari) i wasn’t able to gain access to my hostel until 9:00 so i spent 3 hours walking around the old city part of Tbilisi and around the river.

Wow. This place is awesome. Seriously, from the sleepy early morning until now, the lively evening, it is beautiful and and so incredibly interesting. My pulse quickened as i walked down the winding streets with their beautiful, dilapidated buildings, medieval-looking churches, pocket sized squares, cafes, and shops, all nestled beneath mountains dotted with more churches and imposing fortresses, along a rushing river. There are also a handful of crazy super modern architecture structures, which add to the old world charm by way of their juxtaposition.

I know what you are thinking:”your pulse quickened? Cut the hyperbole already.” But it did. On first glance the whole place was just that exciting. It is that unique: not quite European, a bit middle eastern, a bit Central Asian…but wholly enchanting. And none of it feels precious or artificial. It’s just…great.

First impressions aside, i was exhausted and must have looked it, bedraggled as i was, with my pack on my back, that as i stood looking up at a synagogue, a man, the caretaker, invited me in to sit. I hung out there for about an hour, chatting with the man, drinking his coffee.

After that relaxing interlude, i went to my hostel to drop off my bag. I am staying at the Old Town Hostel. I have a private room with a kitchen on the 4th floor. Shared bathroom, shared, living room area, on one of the particularly ramshackle side streets, which is, as far as i can tell, walking distance to everything.

Dropped off my bag and set off again. The day was beautiful – sunny and warm. I walked all around, stopping to have breakfast and a cigar in one of the squares. Happily the rumours are true: everyone here smokes and there are no restrictions on where they do it.

I went to so many churches today. All simple, medievally looking ones, beautifully painted on the inside and decorated with candles, urns, and gilded pictures of saints. Unfortunately, i haven’t any pictures from inside the churches, as they were filled, crammed, and overflowing with worshippers. This is a religious culture. People cross themselves, just when walking past a church. Women cover their heads to enter, and everyone seemed to be going. They lit candles and incense, prayed, took communion from dramatically dressed and dramatically bearded orthodox priests, and they kissed everything: pictures of saints, the floor, the interior and exterior walls, crosses, each other… And the singing was some of the loveliest i have heard in church. Each stop was wonderful, although in some cases the best i could do was stand outside and listen, as the church was so full, that worshipers stood outside doors and windows to participate.

I also wandered around the area where the public baths are: underground, sulphur baths, both public and private where you can enjoy hot and cold pools, brutal massages and exfoliation at the hands of strong and serious men and women on stone slabs, and all the public nudity you can handle. They are fairly ancient and renowned, but i know i won’t be partaking, not being comfortable with either public nudity or massages.

I have just finished a walk around many of the same areas, but now in the evening. The bars and restaurants are busy. There are a few narrow, pedestrian streets lined with cafes, bars, and lounges, all busy and at least half of them hookah lounges filed with men smoking and playing backgammon.

I’m still a bit tired, so i have opted for a quieter bar/restaurant where i am enjoying a glass of Georgian wine and a cigar, just a few steps away from the louder, busier places, where they are playing a loud mix of middle eastern music, techno, and hits of the 1990s.

There is still so much so see and explore. This is only day one. I am already so happy i came here. Tbilisi says it loves me. Is it premature to say i love it back?

Europe Georgia Trip 2014 Poland

Warsaw Whirlwind

I arrived in Warsaw at around noon and zipped through security and immigration and onto a train which got me into the city centre speedily and without incident. I did a bit of reading up before leaving and knew where i planned to roam around. Of course, upon leaving the train station I promptly set off, quite confidently, in the wrong direction. Walked for about a half an hour before I realized something had gone wrong. No matter though, I got to see some of the more ordinary parts of the city, filled with traffic, cafes, milk bars, and kebab shops.

Once i had my bearings i walked up the lovely Nowy Swiat (street), lined with cafes, churches, palaces, the university, and oodles of inviting cafes and eateries. There were certainly people about but the streets weren’t particularly lively as it was pouring rain and windy. A winning combination. First purchase: an umbrella. Nevertheless, the walk was lovely. The churches were filled with worshipers and three of them had weddings underway, so I watched for a bit. In each case, the bride & groom sat on chairs, which led me to believe that these are long ceremonies. I didn’t stay long enough to find out how they ended.

One church stood out for the fact that it (allegedly) has Chopin’s heart in an urn inside one of the columns in the nave. I was disappointed that it was not on display in a box, like something out of Snow White, but it was cool anyway.

At the end of that street it opens up into a beautiful square in the “Old Town”. I am using quotation marks because this part of the city was decimated in WW2 and then later re-built and restored, painstakingly, into an exact replica of what it was before. So it isn’t technically old, i guess, or at least not entirely, but it really is beautiful. Wonderfully open squares with outdoor cafes are surrounded by colourful buildings, often ornately decorated with design or paintings of people and animals. Of course there are countless places luring you in with their pastries, vodkas, meats, and dumplings.

After walking for quite a while (and getting quite soaked in the process) i cozied up inside a warm eatery with wooden…everything, and lots of books lining the walls. (An observation: there are still tons of bookshops here. Awesome.) i had a plate of golden pierogies and a cabbage salad, washed down with a pot of tea. Perfect rainy day fare.

After that, more walking, including poking around in an antique store filled with soviet and WW2 odd and ends, where i picked up an (allegedly) antique, wood-lined, silver cigarette box with a skull on top of it – with a cigarette in its teeth. There was no way that wasn’t coming home with me.

This really was just a Warsaw sampler. There are so many wonderful looking museums and areas to explore, but i only had 10 hours, and there is still the airport to factor in. I spent the last hour or two in the most perfect cigar lounge, settled into a leather chair with a Bolivar Belicoso Fino and a Punch Limited Edition torpedo, watching the rain and reading. There were some other guys in there, but they were in pairs, talking in hushed, conspiratorial sounding Polish, so i didn’t make any new friends.

I then confidently got on a train back to the airport, with just enough time to spare and rode three stops before i realized i was on the wrong train and did not know any words in Polish to assist. After drawing a picture of an airplane and something that was intended to be Chopin (after whom the airport is named) for a foursome on my wrongly chosen train, much to their amusement, they pointed me in the right direction, and, well, here I am back at the airport, waiting to board my flight to Georgia.

I’ll be back here for a sequel to this Warsaw whirlwind next Sunday, at which point I should have a better idea of where I am going.
On to Tbilisi!

But first, a few more photos:

Asia Georgia (the country) Georgia Trip 2014

Georgia (the country)

In one week I’m off to Georgia – the country, not the American state. I know. Georgia. Random. This will be a short trip, 10 days in total, so it seems somewhat ludicrous that I am flying to the other side of the globe, but I think I’ll be able to pack a lot in to my time there and I love flying so the long flight is kind of a bonus (all that forced relaxation and guilt free napping…heaven).

It’s not like I discovered Georgia of course, but I really hadn’t given it a thought until about a year or so ago when I was looking at my atlas one lazy day over a cigar (as you do) and I saw it and thought, “What’s the deal with Georgia?” So I started reading about it and became very intrigued. First of all, it looks beautiful in terms of landscape and architecture: snow-capped mountains, bucolically verdant valleys, medieval churches, and glittering modern design. Second, people don’t really go there – not like they do to Italy or Argentina anyway. This appeals to me. The off-the-beaten-track places are always the best. Fewer crowds and a sense (albeit somewhat false) that you are discovering something new makes any place better. Third, Georgia is small enough that I can see enough of it in my time allowed such that I shouldn’t feel deprived. Fourth, I feel an obligation to select travel destinations that will help to improve the geographical knowledge of my friends and family. You’re welcome.

You can read about Georgia on your own if you are so inclined, but here are some basic facts to get you started. Georgia is technically in Western Asia, on the ‘balcony of Europe’. It is nestled between Azerbaijan, Armenia, Russia, and Turkey, with its West coast on the Black Sea – the Caucasus region. Population: about 4.5 million. It was in the news most prominently in recent memory in 2008 when it fought a war with Russia. It has this awesome looking language – Georgian – which is a Kartvelian language. Seriously, Kartvelian. It’s fun to say aloud. It is a family of about 4 languages which are only spoken in that region, so it is entirely dissimilar to neighboring languages like Russian and Turkish. The written language looks like this: ულოცავენ. სად არის უახლოესი სიგარების მაღაზია? (Which means, “Greetings. Where is the nearest cigar store?” I think.)

The flag is this cool looking medieval design that would not look out of place being held high by a knight on horseback.

Apparently, Georgia is the oldest confirmed wine-producing country on the planet, with evidence of wine making vessels discovered from about 6000 bce. From what I can tell the food looks good, with lots of dumplings, bread, eggplant, walnuts, and tomatoes.

The capital city is called Tbilisi (or T’bilisi), which will be my base for the time that I am there. It looks like a beautiful city with charming crumbly bits and beautifully re-built areas, set along a river lots to explore.

From what I’ve read, the Georgian people are renowned for their hospitality, much of which may be booze inspired, but nevertheless, the stories of friendly and welcoming locals was appealing.

But here’s what sealed the deal for me: you can still smoke everywhere in Georgia: in restaurants and bars, in the backs of buses, etc. The thought of being able to smoke cigars with my meals or beverages – inside – is so appealing, that this alone makes it a winning destination. I plan to smoke constantly and joyfully. I have read in two different books however that in Georgia, although it has very high rates of smoking, that when it comes to women, only prostitutes smoke outside on the streets. This is a theory I will obviously be testing on a daily basis.

One added bonus is that my flying itinerary affords me two lengthy layovers in Warsaw, so I’ll be able to do some exploring there are well.

So that’s what I have planned. I’m sure it will be terrific and I hope to have lots of interesting adventures to share.

Now, let’s see how many cigars I can cram into my backpack…

Asia South East Asia 2013 South Korea Thailand

Temple of Dawn & Cold in Seoul

We did so much in our first full day in Bangkok that we were a bit burnt out on the third and final day. We had already done so much exploring and seen so much, but we had saved a couple of things for the final day: we began by walking down to one of the many piers along the river and caught a boat across to the Wang Kang pier where a market was bustling. It was a fun one to explore, as it was a bit different (a bit more clothing and odds and ends and a bit less pig entrails). We did that until we grew weary and then caught a couple more boats south down the river. Each crossing of the river by boat is brief and cheap (3 Baht) and quite pleasant.

We arrived at our final destination: Wat Arun, which means ‘Temple of Dawn’. It is one of the oldest Wats in Bangkok and is very interesting as it is decorated with perfect symmetry of design largely out of broken pottery. It also has steep stairs that one can climb about half way up the outside. It isn’t too far, but the stairs were quite steep and seemed like a bad idea, given my sprained ankle from my fall at Angkor Wat. It was a beautiful structure though.

After that the afternoon sun was merciless and we hailed a tuk tuk back to the area around our hotel before killing a few hours languishing on restaurant patios, enjoying cold and fruity drinks, snacks and cigars, just killing time until it was time to go to the airport.

When we left (narrowly missing the lantern festival) the moon rose large and full over the city.

After a 5 hour flight we arrived in Seoul, having had no sleep and realizing that it is winter here and the temperature was about 2 degrees celcius. We were still dressed for the tropical weather of Bangkok. I hadn’t really factored this into my plans. We had a 12 hour layover in Seoul and when i have done this previously, it had been summer and perfect for walking. I had foolishly planned a wonderful walking route around Seoul to occupy us during our layover, but we arrived not only finding it wintery but windy. Canadian though we may be, we are just not that hearty.

We gave it a go though, taking the train to Seoul station and walking to Namdaemun market, where we had some breakfast bibimbap and tried to warm ourselves by browsing through the market shops, but we had to admit defeat. It was just freezing. We headed back to the airport, stopping ay Seoul station for coffee and looking around in a supermarket and various shops selling cute and confusing items.

No photos from Seoul this time. We were too icy and tired to even think of it.

Fortunately the airport in Seoul is extraordinary and we have had no trouble keeping ourselves entertained and catching up on much needed rest. We will be boarding our flight to Vancouver presently. The trip has been a great one. I hate to return home, but we are both badly in need of clean clothes and baths, so home it is.

Thanks for following.

Asia Cambodia South East Asia 2013

Temples – Day 2

Today we again had our tuk tuk driver Mr. Lum take us to temples. Today we did the ‘grand tour’, which was a longer ride through the countryside, past fields of rice, and villages of simple open air homes of wood and thatched houses on stilts, with families outside, chopping wood, cooking dinner, and selling fruit. We passed one street of women stirring large caldrons of what we discovered was palm sugar which they made into delicious sweets. The ride was wonderful, although in the morning we did contend with a downpour, which left us wet and muddy.

I hobbled though the temples, and climbed over stairs and tree roots with great caution. Betty Lou seemed delighted that for once I was not walking at too brisk a pace, and could only amble.

All of the temples were lovely and each a bit different than the next. One was only accessible by walking on a long bridge over a picturesque swamp, another was built in a pyramid configuration, and another, Bantay Srei, was a glorious pink color and featured impossible ornate and in tact carvings.

Today we again had our tuk tuk driver Mr. Lum take us to temples. Today we did the ‘grand tour’, which was a longer ride through the countryside, past fields of rice, and villages of simple open air homes of wood and thatched houses on stilts, with families outside, chopping wood, cooking dinner, and selling fruit. We passed one street of women stirring large calrdons of what we discovered was palm sugar which they made into delicious sweets. The ride was wonderful, although in the morning we did contend with a downpour, which left us wet and muddy.

I hobbled though the temples, and climbed over stairs and tree roots with great caution. Betty Lou seemed delighted that for once i was not walking at too brisk a pace, and could only amble.

All of the temples were lovely and each a bit different than the next. One was only accessible by walking on a long bridge over a picturesque swamp, another was built in a pyamid configuration, and another, Bantay Srei, was a glorious pink color and featured impossible ornate and in tact carvings.

There were far fewer tourists at these temples than yesterday’s, but there were still countless children and women selling palm juice, fruit, and souveniers, and groups of men with limbs lost to landmines playing haunting music.

We returned to the hotel fairly beat from the walking in the heat and me also from my stupid limping. We had a tasty lunch at an outdoor restaurant which included the most delicious lemon smoothie. We are staying in tonight. Tomorrow is our final day in Siem Reap and we have nothing planned aside from arranging our transport to Battambang and doing a bit of shopping. Right now i am sitting on the balcony of our hotel with a cigar and listening to the noise of the street.

Asia South East Asia 2013 Vietnam

Journey up the Mekong

We left Ho Chi Minh in the morning on a minibus bound for a town on the Mekong river, where we joined about two dozen others on a small boat which took us out further onto the river where we boarded our proper boat – the “Mekong Eyes”, a lovely wooden converted rice barge turned into a fairly posh cruising boat. It was simply lovely. We had a well appointed room and the boat had a dining room and a wonderful top deck with places to sit and take in the view. It almost felt too fancy for me, but I guess sometimes it’s nice to travel in style.

We began sailing and we relaxed on the top deck watching the lush, green jungly landscape pass by, with its occasional small, ramshackle houses on the shore. Various other boats passed by – mostly fishing boats and small sampans rowed by women and men standing atop them and rowing with long oars. It was very peaceful and pleasant (and perfect for cigar smoking).

After a delicious lunch, we took small boats to a village along the river where we were able to wander past rice paddy fields dotted with above ground graves, tiny houses with open air rooms and families resting in hammocks, chopping wood for the stove, and cooking and eating meals, and past trees growing papayas, jack fruit, coconuts and bananas. After returning to the big boat we spent the rest of the day watching the shore slip past until it was dark and the sky was dotted with migrating bats.

We had a wonderful sleep on board, delayed only slightly by a fantastic lightening storm, which lit up the night sky.

This morning after breakfast we again took a small boat to the floating market, where countless boats crowded together on a wide part of the river to sell all manner of produce and hot coffee and tea. The boats, which ranged from small canoe-like contraptions to larger boats displayed their wares by way of tying them to masts on their boats – the pineapple vendor, for example, had a pineapple hanging from a stick, high above the boat so that others would know what was for sale. The market was so lively and colourful as the boats all paddled and motored their way amongst each other to connect vendors with buyers. Along the shores we had excellent views of people’s houses and could see people going about their daily lives on the water.

After the market we took in some other sights on foot and then after a meal of delicious fruits, we left our boat and travelled by bus about three hours to Chau Doc; a small but busy city near the border with Cambodia.

Our hotel in Chau Doc is ridiculously fancy. It is the Victoria hotel and is this posh establishment on the water with a beautiful outdoor pool, restaurant, and beautiful rooms. We went for a walk though the city, which was buzzing with motor scooters and has a bustling, colourful market. We walked though the market, looking with wonder at the many unidentifiable fruits and vegetables and taking in the sights and (pungent) smells. The evening has wound up with a cigar on the hotel grounds, looking out over the water.

In the morning we are catching a speed boat to Phnom Pehn, where the second leg of out trip shall begin.

Asia South East Asia 2013 Vietnam

Ho Chi Minh

What can we say but…

We arrived yesterday late morning after two flights and a layover in Taipei. We were greeted by the roar of motorcycles and horn honking as we took a car and zoomed to our hotel through the chaotic traffic – mostly motorcycles/scooters, often with multiple passengers (the most we saw on one was a family of five). Our hotel – the Bich Duyen – is on a quiet back lane off one of the main streets in the backpacker area. It is a great location and the hotel is clean and cheap and pleasant.

We went out yesterday walking through the city. We quickly learned how to cross the street against the traffic, which seldom stops. The key is: just step out into the street, keep your eyes open, but just walk ahead and trust that the hundreds of motorcycles will just part around you. So far it has worked. One time though we must have hesitated too long before crossing, as a tiny, old woman crossed the street towards us, took me and my mother by the hand and walked us back across, me laughing with fear the whole time.

The city, for the most part, is not attractive, but is very interesting. We wandered down narrow back lanes lined with what appeared to be one room houses and people cooking on the street over open coals, all manner of meat, vegetables, and tofu. There is a wonderful assortment of street snacks here – all of which looks delicious, but little of it vegetarian. Women are everywhere in their conical hats, carrying food for sale and other trinkets.

We visited the Ben Thanh market which was a maze of items for sale, including textiles, clothing, household items, and food. We sat at the low, plastic (child-sized) tables and stools outside one of the food stalls and had a bowl of vegetables and noodles, and a thickly sweet iced coffee.

We also visited a couple of temples/pagodas. The Jade Emperor Pagoda had ponds outside teeming with fish and turtles, which people fed with needlessly large amounts of bread, which floated on top of the water appetizingly. The inside was beautiful though – small and dark with carvings of Buddhas and tigers, with two altars of gold Buddhas and dozens of people making offerings of flowers and incense. The incense was thick and filled the room with an atmospheric haze. We visited a similar temple in the Cholon (Chinatown) neighborhood where we were charged by a brave rat, which sent us off on our way prematurely.

In the evening we went out for dinner and sat on a patio on a busy street, with a cigar, watching the traffic and people. It was a pleasant evening. The weather has been nice; it is hot and humid, but not oppressively so. i think it is nice.

We have just had breakfast at our hotel and will now go on a walk in the neighborhood before catching a bus to the Mekong, where we will tranfer to a boat, taking us north.

Colombia South America Venezuela

Wrapping things up in Colombia & Venezuela

On my final night in Cartagena I went out for dinner and then to a La Casa del Habano cigar shop/bar in Gethsemani. It was fairly quiet when I arrived but I had a decent chat with the Manager who showed me bundles of tobacco to be rolled into Colombian cigars.

The smoking situation is Cartagena has been better than in Bogota. You still can’t technically smoke inside, but with the weather being so beautifully tropical, there is no shortage of patios to smoke on; plus, you can smoke in cigar shops and there are at least three in the old city. There are lots of “Cuban” cigars being sold on the streets here and they are all fakes. There are real Cubans for sale in the shops, but they are very expensive – as much as in Canada.

Here’s a few more Cartagena pictures from my final day:

The next morning i flew back to Bogota and sent many hours walking around, doing a bit of shopping and finally killing time in doors when it got too cold and wet to be comfortable outside. That night i flew to Caracas.

I had a nine hour layover in Caracas, which would have been great had it been during the day, but we arrived at about 12:30 am. I thought initially i might stay at the airport and sleep on a row of chairs, but i realized that i probably needed some sleep if i was to be at all functional when i returned home and went right to work – plus, the airport in the middle of the night feels pretty sketchy. Not the sort of place i would feel comfortable sleeping in public. This is also what i determined reading accounts by other people who had been in the same situation. Indeed, the whole area around the neighborhood seems pretty dodgy at night.

Earlier in the day i did some hotel research and discovered that there are only two hotels near the airport and they are both very expensive. There are other hotels in downtown caracas of course, but they are quite far from the airport and transportation is expensive. Anyway, I was too tired to look for creative or alternative options so i got a room at a fancyish business hotel about 10 minutes from the airport. I took some colorful Venezuelan Bolivars out of the ATM and the next thing i knew i was in a tinted-windowed SUV being driven to the hotel. (the taxi ride: also expensive)

I checked in and had a restful, but brief sleep. The next morning i saw that the hotel was right on the Caribbean and had lovely pools and patios. So i ate a an overpriced breakfast taking in the view before taking another taxi back to the airport. From what i saw of the neighborhood on the drive back; it looked poor and unremarkable, but had lots of colorful Chavez graffiti and beautiful mountains. That was my brief foray into Venezuela.

Colombia South America

Cock Fight

Yesterday morning, before it got too hot, i went for a walk around the walls of the old city. The walls are fairly high and thick and hold numerous cannons, pointed out at sea. The walk is quite pleasant and offers great views into the streets below.

After my walk i hung out at the hostel in the hammock for a bit and ran some errands and had dinner with an Australian girl and then i headed to one of the squares where i was meeting someone who had promised to take me to a cock fight.

This all started the day i arrived when i met this guy, a local, and we were chatting about what i was going to see and i asked him if her knew where i could see a cock fight. (I had originally wanted to see a bull fight but they only happen in January and February.) The man said, you have no idea who you are talking to–i have 48 chickens for fighting. And so he said to meet his at 6:00 on Friday and we would go.

On the face of it, this seemed like an exercise in poor judgment on my part. I was going to go to a dodgy part of town with a guy i just met to see a cock fight. My instincts said do it, but be cautious. So i met the guy and his two cousins at 6:00 on Friday. I was happy to find out that a young couple from Australia (a girl and a boy) would be joining us. (The Australian cuople told me they had been mugged at knifepoint the day before at 5:00 right in front of their hostel in the touristy neighborhood, but they said they only gave the guy about $5 and he went away.) We hopped in a taxi and went about 15 minutes out of town to a much, much poorer neighborhood.

Before we went to the arena, we went to the patio of this bodega on the corner and had beers (well, i had water) and chatted and took in the people watching. Although it was not an area i would go on my own, i really enjoyed it. Loud salsa music was playing and people were out walking and shouting at each other jovially and dogs were playing in the street. The whole area was really run down and dusty, but it had a friendly feel.

At about 8:00 or so we went to the arena. It is an arena dedicated to cock fighting and in one of many in Cartagena. It seats people in the round on three levels (the admission fees vary depending on what area you sit in). Just outside the arena is an open area with a bar and placed where they keep the chickens on fight day, where they prepare them, etc.

the spikes are applies to the chicken legs

So people have chickens and they have their chicken trainers bring them to the arena. The chickens have their feathers clipped in particular ways and underneath and on the legs the feathers are removed. The chickens are weighed in a special scale to see what weight class they belong in, and then the spikes are attached. A cut is made in the back of the chicken´s leg and a metal thing is inserted and it is bandaged to the leg, then into the metal thing a spike is screwed in – a spike about 2 inches long. Then the lower part of the chicken’s leg is wrapped, kind of like how boxers wrap their hands.

While all this is going on, men are standing around drinking beer, smoking, chatting, and checking out the chickens who are to fight.

The fight began and we took our places. The two chickens are brought into the ring and the betting begins. Some of the betting is organized and some of it is just guys betting with the guy next to him. The whole process is really chaotic with everyone shouting names and numbers all at once and waving money around. The minimum bet is 20,000 pesos (about $10 or $12 dollars), but bets go into the thousands i am told.

The fight starts and the chickens start pecking at each other and flapping and the crowd goes crazy yelling. Above the ring hangs a clock, counting down from 15 minutes and a sign with each chicken’s name and stats (wins, losses, weights, village of origin). Also in the ring are two judges. If one chicken takes the other down for a period of time, that chicken is the winner. If 15 minutes goes by with no big wins, then it is a draw. Judging by the reaction, the crowd doesn’t like draws. Most of the fights lasted about 10 or 12 minutes and ended with one chicken dead or nearly dead. The quickest fight lasted about 5 seconds.

the winning chicken and the dead chicken

I found it all quite fascinating and i enjoyed yelling at the chickens: Come on Chino, don’t be a pussy, take that motherfucker chicken down! Or sometimes, if i was rooting for chicken number 2 (when both chickens had the same name, which happens more often than you would think), i would yell: Numero dos es numero uno! The fighting was interesting, but the best thing was just the experience of being there and knowing it was something not a lot of people get to see. Also, i liked that you could sit in the arena, watching the fight and smoking cigars. That was pretty cool.

We definitely stood out, the Australians and I. We were the only gringos there and the Australian girl and i were the only girls, aside from the one selling the beer. We hung out there for a couple of hours and then took a taxi back to the centro historico. After being dropped off i went to the Casa del Habano and had a cigar and mojito with the manager while watching Romancing the Stone on the tv. The manager says it is his favorite movie.

Over all, it was an awesome experience. A definite first for me – and maybe a first for them, as i am not sure how many cigar smoking, tattooed, pale, blonde vegetarians they get at the cockfight.

Colombia South America

Smoking Cigars in Bogota

The smoking situation in Bogota is the only this that has been disappointing. It seems that it is illegal to smoke indoors and the law is followed. Despite the lovely courtyards at my hostel which are technically outdoors, they are also smoke free. There are also virtually so outdoor eateries, cafes or patios here – probably due to the rainy and generally cold climate. This means that my cigar smoking has been done walking, sitting on steps of churches, or convincing a cafe or bar owner to bring a chair outside. It is not the end of the world, but i would have liked more options. I look forward to seeing what the situation is in Cartagena.

Also, i am very glad i brought lots of my own cigars, as i have seen no where selling them and no one smoking them.

Still, it is easier to smoke in public here than in Vancouver, so i am not complaining.

Wandering North

Tag: cigar