cigar Archives - Page 19 of 25

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Exploring Havana

Yesterday I opted to spend the day solo, leaving Stripes and Noodles to stay poolside at their hotel. I started out at the Plaza de Armas, which is my favorite plaza for coffee drinking and people watching. It is leafy, has several nice cafes and is perfect for looking out at the sellers of books, Cuban posters, and antique cameras and odds and ends.

After that i walked to a nearby Casa del Habano, which was lovely. I picked out an H Upmann Magnum 50 and sat inside, smoking and marveling at the vast selection of cigars.

From there I went on a walk along the sea and chatted with a fisherman before turning back into the city to look at the incredible number of 1950s American cars and street art.

I then went to the large Cuban modern art museum, which had 3 floors of mostly excellent modern art. A lot of great abstracts and political art, as well as a number of statues of Jesus being maimed and impaled by swords and communist sickles. (No photos allowed.)

From there I walked through an area devoid of tourists to La Epoca, a department store, where I went to the basement, which houses a supermarket. The shelves were pretty sparse and had little variety (other than rum, which was plentiful).

I then walked to this large arts and crafts market, which was a delight to look at, though there was nothing I wanted to buy.

I finished my wandering at the Plaza Vieja at a wonderful cafe that actually had a good vegan sandwich (a rare thing here). After that I went back to my casa to shower and get ready for the big Partagas festival opening dinner.

The Partagas dinner was at the Hotel National. I went there by taxi to meet Stripes and Noodles. Stripes, as it turned out, was quite sick and had to stay at his hotel, so it was just me and Noodles for the evening. The setting was lovely and the crowd was impeccably dressed – except for me. I tried to cover up the fact that I was wearing the same sweaty outfit by putting on earrings and lipstick. The attendees were from all over the world: North and South America, Africa, Europe, China, and Japan. We sat at a table with a group of men from Switzerland, which turned out to be perfect because they were very reserved. Other tables erupted into spontaneous salsa dancing and whatnot which would have made me feel quite out of place.

The food was mediocre, but the service perfect. We were given an array of limited edition cigars, endless wine and rum, and were greeted by various cigar dignitaries. There was also entertainment: colorful couples of salsa dancers and locally famous singers. We saw many familiar faces from our past few days in Havana, including El Jefe, who made the rounds, never missing a photo op. The whole thing went on for hours. I knew it was time to leave when around midnight a conga line broke out. Noodles and I had a final piña colada on the outdoor lookout, where the sea was lost to darkness but the stars were exquisite.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Cigar Story

This morning i did a bit of early walking before meeting Stripes and Noodles. I tried to visit a few churches, but all were closed or under construction. Nevertheless, all walks in Havana Vieja are entertaining with much to see.

We met up at Partagas and had a cigar before Stripes and Noodles’ friend, El Jefe, found a car and convinced the driver to take us to Pinar del Rio. With us was a lawyer from a certain South American country and his girlfriend. We bounced along in the utility vehicle for about two hours, making stops just for the boys to buy beer. The countryside was green and filled with palm trees. The vehicles included far more horse and cart configurations. Occasionally we saw large signs with pictures of a young Fidel Castro promising death to invaders.

In Pinar del Rio we stopped at the Vegueros cigar factory. Not open to the public, but El Jefe said he had a friend that worked there. We stopped and went inside and with a bit of talking, El Jefe organized for us a tour of the factory. So this was one of the things i was really looking forward to on this trip. I’ve read dozens of books on cigar production and i’ve been to factories in Miami, but to actually see Cuban cigars being rolled and sorted in person was incredible. (Unfortunately no pictures were allowed according to a government ordinance passed that day.)

The first area we entered was the rolling room. Rows of men and women of varying ages sat at wooden desks rolling cigars. They start with a pile of leaves that have been pre-approved and de-veined, and they gather a group of leaves (the filler; again, pre-organized to have the correct composition and blend for whatever cigar they are rolling) and they roll the together in an outside (binder) leaf. Too much or too little tobacco and the cigar is not smokable. Uneven distribution of tobacco and the cigar will not burn evenly. From there the cigars go in a wooden press, which looks like it has been in use for a century or more, and they sit for 20 minutes. After that they go to someone who puts on the outside leaf (the wrapper). The wrapper must be aesthetically perfect and perfectly applied for a uniform, smooth appearance. This person also applies the cap (the bit you cut off when you smoke it). Each of these jobs was done by a different person – mostly women but some men. A man sits at the front of the room reading newspapers and books to the workers, just as they have for nearly two centuries.

The sizes and varieties of cigars they rolled varied, but all of them passed on to the next step: testing the draw.

A man sat at a simple looking machine and one by one he placed each cigar in it and, somehow, forced air into it or something to test the draw. If a cigar did not fall in the required range, it would be rejected.

The cigars that passed the draw test were passed on to the next room. The first stop was something i have always been curious about seeing: the color sorting. The cigars that go into each box must be sorted so that they are all exactly the same shade of brown. Some boxes are darker and some lighter, but each must the uniform. The man’s station was covered in rows of robustos, which he stared at and reorganized like he was playing Tetris.

Behind him at other stations, girls applied bands to the cigars, one by one, using a ruler to ensure they were uniform and perfect.

Next, women adhered colorful paper and images to the wooden cigar boxes to differentiate the Partagas from the Hoyos and whatnot. Finally (out of sequence) we visited a room where women sorted through giant tobacco leaves, keeping the good ones, de-veining them, and preparing them for the rollers.

It is simply amazing, the amount of detail and handwork that goes into each cigar, each one passes through probably 20 sets of hands before it can be sold. We tipped our guide and he gave us each three cigars that had yet to be banded.

Our next stop, down a dirt road was to the Robaina tobacco plantation. Alejandro Robaina was Cuba’s most celebrated tobacco farmer and his farm grown what is probably the best tobacco in the world. Alejandro died a few years ago but his grandson, whom we met (and who Stripes knew previously) carries on the family business. We walked the grounds and smoked cigars and were served a lunch of fried lobster, pork, black beans (with pork), rice, and beer. I had rice. I must have been hungry because that alone satisfied me.

After lunch a man gave us a tour and explained the delicate and time/weather sensitive process of how they plant and harvest the tobacco. How it can only be picked on certain days and only two leaves can be picked from each plant per day. Then he showed us the barns where the tobacco leaves are strung up and rotated to keep them at the perfect temperature and humidity while they ferment. Then we watched an in house roller demonstrate how cigars are rolled. The lawyer from a certain South American country tried his hand at rolling. (I have tried this previously and know it is a lot harder than it looks.)

We left and made the long, bumpy drive back to Havana. Back in the city we all went to the beautiful Hotel Inglaterra for drinks and cigars. We sat on the front patio and listened to live music and watched a lonely prostitute try to cozy up to various men traveling solo. At the Inglaterra, the lawyer from a certain South American country told us that as a criminal prosecutor in that certain South American country he was constantly under threat from violent retribution and had to carry a gun which he had had to fire on more than one occasion. As civil lawyers in Canada, Stripes and i had nothing worthy or comparable to contribute.

After that we walked across Parque Centrale to La Floridita: a bar made famous by everyone’s favorite international alcoholic, Ernest Hemingway. Allegedly this is where the daiquiri was invented and for Hemingway they made a special grapefruit one. It is a fairly fancy place and quite charming, although the lighting is too bright and it is packed with tourists there for the same reason as us. The Daiquiris were refreshing, but not amazing. What was amazing was smoking inside and listening to the excellent band which inspired a couple of couples to take to salsa dancing between the tables.

Leaving there, cigars in hand, we left El Jefe, the lawyer from a certain South American country and his girlfriend. Stripes, Noodles, and i walked down the bustling, pedestrian Calle Obispo to some outdoor tables at Cafe Paris, where we had very cheap and very bad cheese pizza, cigars, and listened to another band. Kitty korner to us was an unassuming bodega outside of which a group of teenage-looking prostitutes stood looking bored, occasionally approaching interested looking men.

After that, past midnight, i left Stripes and Noodles and made my way back to my casa, accompanied only by a stray dog who staying by my side the whole way. A very long and thoroughly enjoyable day.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Cigars and the Perfect Piña Colada

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

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

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

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

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Dinner Rolls and Love Songs

I’ve always had sort of a mental block about Cuba as a travel destination. It always looked nice, but i was never drawn to it. Then when i was quite young i became a cigar fanatic, worked in the business, smoked and smoke cigars nearly everyday, so Cuban became more interesting for that reason. But the problem then was since then everyone i know goes to Cuba regularly. I hear about it, i see pictures and it loses all sense of wonder and mystery. Time spent living in Miami did nothing help this. So for years i didn’t go. Finally, with the US embassy opening and the likelihood that all manner of capitalist horrors will soon follow (chipotle, walmart, real housewives havana), it seemed like a now or never situation.

The weird thing is that while i am here alone, the trip was coordinated with two friends from Canada – Stripes and Noodles (to preserve their anonymity) – so we could all attend the annual Partagas cigar festival, which encompasses a couple of events, dinners, and specially rolled cigars for the occasion. I never travel with people except my mother, so i had some serious trepidation about this idea, but we are flying snd staying separately so i should still have enough alone time. It shall be a new experience.

I arrived in Varadero on a sunny sunday afternoon. The flights to Havana were crazy expensive, but not Varadero, which caters to the all inclusive crowd. I have to say rarely have i seen such an unattractive group of people as i did on that flight. Fat, sloppy, slack-jawed hicks traveling with Molson Canadian t-shirts and boxes of Tim Hortons Timbits. The couple next to me were so large that the use of arms rests were an impossibility.

Anyway, on arrival i opted for the more expensive one hour taxi ride to Havana over the inexpensive three hour bus trip. I was happy with my choice. We sped past the lush countryside, empty beaches, and industrial complexes, past the odd cow, policeman, or boy selling fresh cheese and guavas by the roadside.

Arrival in Havana was pleasant. It really does look like all of the pictures: beautiful 2-3 storey buildings in poor repair but wearing colorful paint jobs. Bicycle rickshaw taxis. Fortresses by the sea. Sidewalk cafes with live music. Endless shops selling colorful knick knacks and anything and everything with Che Guevara. It is all very visually appealing. The downside for me is, it all looks familiar. Mostly it reminds me of Cartagena, which is fine in that i liked Cartagena, but so far i haven’t gotten that rush of excitement on seeing something new, but it really is lovely. The two things that do seem special and unique are the 50s American cars, which really are ubiquitous and not just for tourists; they actually use them and they are beautiful. Also the amount of buskers is notable. There are on every corner almost small bands playing Cuban music and jazz and they are great.

It is worth pointing out at this point that all of these observations have been made by me while walking in Havana Vieja (the old city). This is the postcard perfect area which is the city’s oldest and filled with churches, squares, and wonderful streets lined with appealing bars and cafes. This is the area in which i am staying, just off the Plaza Vieja, at a casa particulares called Marta y Israel. A casa particulares is basically someone’s house in which they rent out a room or two and provide breakfast. By far the cheapest option for accommodations. I really like this place: easy to find with a great location, a nice interior, a rooftop patio, clean, hospitable and it has AC and hot water. What more could i want?

So, i arrived, i settled, and i walked all over the old city. Many tourists and many people who make their living from them, though the restaurant touts and taxi drivers are polite and far from aggressive. I walked, i smoked, i sat, i walked some more. Finally, after getting hungry to the point of irritation, i found the perfect restaurant.

The seating was outside on a narrow cobbled lane. White table cloths, candles, a band playing soft Spanish music, and a vegetarian meal on the menu. I stayed and had cigar and ate my dish of bland but delicious (extreme hunger leads to lower expectations) rice and vegetables and the softest, tiniest, whitest dinner rolls. After eating the rice and one of the rolls, i was stuffed but i didn’t want to let them go to waste, so i began surreptitiously slipping the rolls one by one into my bag. My attempt at remaining invisible was cut short when the band – a group of six musicians, whom i had fatally tipped 5 Cuban pesos earlier because i hadn’t a smaller note, encircled me at my table and began to serenade me at close proximity with romantic songs. The main singer sat down next to me and, with his face no more than 12 inches from mine, made ceaseless, soulful eye contact while singing Bessame Mucho. The whole restaurant looked on at my visible discomfort and the dinner rolls poorly concealed in my fists. Three songs this went on for. I smiled and tried to find a place to look other than the eyes of the singer, but that just made it more awkward. At least the music was nice though at that moment i longed for the comfortable anonymity of recorded music. I had a laugh when it was over and again when i ate the successfully pilfered dinner rolls for breakfast the next morning.

The walk back to my casa was pleasant, past throngs of people congregating in the streets for drink and dance and get lost in the warm, dark air.

North America USA

The Broad

Today started by taking the Metrolink from Burbank to Union Station.

Once downtown, i skipped Olivera Street this time to grab some sushi in Little Tokyo. I then had a cigar at the 2nd Street cigar lounge where i had a lovely chat with a boxing manager/promoter about our shared love of international travel. After that i headed to The Broad.

The Broad is a new (opened last month) modern art museum downtown showcasing the private collection of a local billionaire/art collector who is now sharing his amazing collection of post-war modern art in an incredible building. (Take note, billionaires who are inexplicably reading this blog: this is a worthwhile use of your otherwise unjustifiable wealth.)

It is like a pared down NY MOCA, sans the Pollacks. A fantastic collection of Beuys, Twombly, Cindy Sherman, Jasper Johns, Koons (not my favourite, but fun to look at), Murakami, Wharhol, Lichtenstein, Damien Hirst, and more. And terrific customer service. The staff are more than happy to talk with you about the art.

It delights me not only to see the art, but to overhear the reactions of people. A lot of “i could paint this” and “i don’t get it”. But at least they’re there.

Ethiopia Trip 2015 Europe Germany

Addis Ababa to Frankfurt

I arrived in Frankfurt from Addis Ababa and had a brief layover – 7 hours or so – but it was long enough to leave the airport and go for a walk in the city. Frankfurt was kind of a perfect place to have such a layover. I have never been interested in going there and it lacks ‘must-see’ sights, so i could wander without feeling any pressure to do or see anything in particular. I did do some planning and determined ahead of time where the best/most scenic places would be to go (the less time in a place, the more planning required).

I passed by the disinterested customs/immigration officials and caught the easy and efficient train to central Frankfurt.

After my weeks in Ethiopia, and most recently Addis, the air felt so cool and fresh. I arrived early in the morning and it was a Monday so the streets were mostly quiet and then filled with suits off to work and a few buses of tourists, waving a plethora of selfie sticks.

The city was…nice. Attractive and clean, with some pretty, historic and very German buildings, some public art, waterways and bicycles. It wasn’t remarkable or amazing, but it was nice. Sort of like a German version of Vancouver.

I had a great coffee and bread and cheese for breakfast from a cafe on a pretty square. My first non-Ethiopian food in a while, which made it especially delicious.

The best thing about my hours in Frankfurt was that no one spoke to me unless i spoke to them first. No one said hello or smiled. No one asked me where i was from or what my name was, how old i was, if i had children, etc. I think i dealt fine with the constant barrage of attention from locals on the street in Ethiopia, and it is nice, i suppose, to have connections and interactions with strangers, but at my heart i like to walk down the street and have no one care or pretend to care. That urban, western disinterest felt so welcome and comfortable on that morning and was probably my favourite thing about Frankfurt.

Back to the airport, i flew to Vancouver, another trip concluded.

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Back to Addis Ababa

I left Lalibela the morning after the day of my mule trek. I awoke that day feeling like i might die. Fever, vomiting, and excruciating soreness all over. Thankfully my sightseeing was complete or it would have spoiled the day, but as it was the day was mostly travel: Waiting around for a bus to get to the airport, waiting at the airport, flying to Addis, and then waiting for a shuttle to my hotel. By the time i arrived and settled, all i wanted to do was have a cigar and a bath and go to bed. A word about my hotel, i figured that by the end of my trip i would be worn down, tired, dirty – all of which are true – so i had booked my last two nights in Addis at the Hilton, which is super fancy. I felt like a hick walking in in the same outfit I’ve been wearing for the past 2+ weeks, smelling of sweat, mule, and probably vomit, but it was the perfect place to actually relax for a change and get some rest. And, as it turns out, there are lots of great places here to curl up with a cigar and enjoy some overpriced coffee.

Thankfully, my sickness turned out to be a 24 hour thing and i awoke the next morning read to take on the city.
I walked north of the hotel through a bit of a park like area and came upon a big church with a wedding procession outside. It was lovely, with people singing and clapping and drums being played as the couple paraded around the church.

I didn’t get to go inside the church but all around it were giant tortoises, like the kind that may easily be 100 years old. That was neat.

From there i walked up to the National Museum, which houses a small but satisfying array of Ethiopian historical artifacts and artwork, in addition to the remains of “Lucy” the oldest or most famous found skeletal remains of an Australopithecus, a precursor to homo sapiens, dating back about 3.2 million years, which is pretty amazing. (Look, I’m not a scientist. If you want some detailed info on Lucy, google her.) People all throughout my trip have been encouraging me to go see my “great grandmother Lucy” and they are understandably proud that we can presently locate the ancestors of all mankind to Ethiopia.

After that i walked further north past various traffic circles and busy street scenes, enjoying the walk and stopping for fresh mango juice or coffee.

I walked up to the university and wandered around a before checking out the Ethnographic Museum, which had a good art gallery as well as very interesting displays on cultural practices of people in different parts of the country.

It was all very enjoyable and quite walkable, though by the end of it i was content to stay in and enjoy a cigar on the hotel patio, by the palms.

Today i resolved to walk to the Mercato (yes, they use the Italian word for market). This was quite a walk from the hotel, made more difficult by the fact that i didn’t have a maq, but i knew it was in the north east and near a really big mosque and i was delighted that i was able to find it without having to haggle for a taxi fare. I was less delighted that, being Sunday, the market was rather quiet and most of the surrounding businesses closed. It still made for a satisfying walk though, and one which i followed up by walking to Meskel Square and down Bole Road and back. Trust me, this was a long walk. Nothing of any great interest occurred, but it gave me my final glimpses of Addis before i head to the airport this evening.

And that, is pretty much that for Ethiopia. It has been a wonderful trip which has exceeded my expectations and has been a far easier trip than i expected. Terrific sights, cities, people, food, a d experiences. I only regret that i do not have time to see the many other parts of the country, which look so appealing. But it is back to work for me, with just a bit of a visit to Frankfurt en route.
Flying soon.
d

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Aimless Walking in Lalibela

Having spent the previous day exploring the churches of Lalibela, i devoted my second day to just checking out the town. After breakfast, i did pop into a couple of the churches I had seen the day before, but this time i was without a guide and felt i could linger in silence and snap a few photos (because the 200 hundred i took the day before wasn’t enough).

As i walked away from the churches i heard a group murmuring and saw robed men and women ascending a boulder. I climbed up after them and saw a group of people sitting beneath the trees, including many priests and nuns, chanting. It was not in unison, though i heard many of the same recurring phrases. There seemed to be no leader. It was certainly religious in nature. I sat and watched for a while, resting under a juniper tree, enjoying the shade and peacefulness.

After that, i headed to the market. Everyone said Saturday was the bug market day, but i had to settle for a Wednesday. The market was obviously half its usual size but was still very interesting. A very limited amount of root vegetables were for sale as were unroasted coffee beans, barley, rice, lentils, spices, and sorghum. Women picked through the grains and beans, discarding the reject specimens, while livestock grazed in the dirt.

After climbing back up out of the market and wandering uphill in the blazing heat (it doesn’t seem to matter which direction I head I Lalibela, it is always sharply uphill) i settled in at a couple of different coffee shops for coffee and fresh mango papaya juice.

Everyone is so friendly and so eager to chat. The kids follow me down the street wanting to know where i am from and telling me about their school. They all know the capital of Canada and all of the countries of Europe and were eager that i quiz them. Others just say hello and run away giggling when i respond. One little boy and i played kick the empty water bottle up a hill until i, in all my uncoordinated glory, kicked the bottle off a cliff. I felt awful and would have gladly bought the boy a ball or at least a bottle of water had there been any sign of commerce in sight.

I browsed a few gift shops (for the first time on this trip) but didn’t do any buying. There were so many wonderful things to look at and the proprietors didn’t pressure me to buy, which was nice.

I basically lazed away the rest of the day, just reading, smoking, and drinking endless thimbles of coffee fresh from the fire. Finally it was time for dinner and i decided to check out this restaurant everyone had been telling me about: Ben Abeba. It is owed by an Ethiopian man and Scottish women and is perched on a mountain top housed in a crazy specimen of Ethiopian architectural whimsy.

It is all outdoors on various levels connected by ramps and spiral staircases. The food, service, and prices were all excellent and the view…

I ate and watched the sun settle into a glorious sunset before the sky and landscape turned jet black and the sky filled with incredible constellations.

For a day without any specific sights or planning, it was terrific and i took a tuk tuk back though the twisting mountain roads back to my hotel and to bed.
d

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

The Churches of Lalibela

I arrived in Lalibela early this morning where i was greeted by hot, sunny weather and a landscape that looked both appealing and inhospitable.

Upon landing they took my temperature, as they have upon each arrival, and i bused to my hotel, the Tukul Village. While my lodgings in Addis Ababa and Harar were sketchy and charmless, those in Gondar and Lalibela are fantastic. Upon seeing where i would be staying for the next three days, i wished i would be here longer.

I have this wonderful, round little hut built in the traditional style but with the comforts of a nice hotel. (So far there is running water and electricity so i am hopeful anyway.)
Immediately after settling and swapping a book at the book exchange, i went to explore the churches.

Lalibela is famous for a few groups of churches that were built about 1000 years ago after King Lalibela decided to create a new Jerusalem in Ethiopia. But rather than building the churches, he decided that they must carve them into the sold rock ground, such that the roof of each church is level with the ground and the rest is sub-terrainian, with each church being carved from a single stone. Just think about this for a moment. It’s madness and incredibly beautiful and confounding. What is even better is that these churches are still very much in use, with white robed priests and pilgrims attending for prayer and blessings.

Some of the churches are plain inside, and others have lovely carvings and paintings.
As if all this wasn’t cool enough, to get from church to church, you either walk through stunning pastoral settings or through underground tunnels. Now, a word about these tunnels. They are wide enough for one person and i had to stoop to walk through them. The ground is uneven and slippery from centuries of footsteps. That is fine, but they are also suffocating, pitch black. You can’t see your own hand in front of your eyes. In one tunnel i was able to use a flashlight, which was a great blessing, although even then, i was terrified. I am not really afraid of anything – danger, death, loneliness, hyenas, heights…but i am completely freaked out by the dark. Even with the flashlight i was very uncomfortable. As it turned out, all the flashlight did was bring to my attention that the tunnel was full of bats – two of which flew directly into my head. Since bats have excellent abilities to find their way in the dark, i can only assume that they did this on purpose.

After surviving that experience and visiting another church, there was another tunnel, which my guide (yes, i hired a guide. I don’t normally but i would have been quite lost without one in this experience) said was the tunnel of hell, or something like that. He said it is forbidden to use light or to speak in this tunnel. I suspect that he might have just been messing with me, but i obliged, with the light part anyway. This tunnel was equally dark and bat filled (i could hear them all around me), but longer. I really though i might die of fright as i felt my way slowly

along the twisting wall. I did not comply with the no speaking part and swore viciously the whole way. When i finally saw the light, i ran for it and then collapsed in laughter. I’m glad i did it.

One other thing worth mentioning is that in the walls of rock that surround the churches are many small tombs carved into the rock – basically tiny caves where people were laid to rest. Most of the bodies have been moved and reburied elsewhere, but in one spot, there were still two or maybe three bodies piled up at eye level, reduced to dusty bones and bits of cloth.

After that i walked around a bit but it had made for a long and tiring day, so i went out for dinner and am now sitting outside at my hotel with a cigar and pot of tea, listening to the tv on which the staff are watching “The Golden Child”.

A fantastic day. From what i have seen Lalibela ranks up there with the wonders of the world and i feel very lucky to be here.

Africa Ethiopia Ethiopia Trip 2015

Final Day in Gondar

My final day in Gondar was a relaxing one. After breakfast i went back to the market to wander around and sat and drank coffees while watching the street scene. Two things i haven’t mentioned: the macchiatos here are incredible, like tiny, perfect lattes. Also there are pool halls her everywhere. Typically just a one room place with a pool table and nothing else, but they seem to be very popular.

After that i visited Debre Birhan Selassie, a beautifully decorated church dating back to the late 1600s, found at the end of a lovely walk on a countryish road just off the piazza. It was wonderful, but my relaxation was interrupted by a fellow who wanted to talk to me about my life in Canada and was very intent on getting to the bottom of whether i was truly happy. By the end of the conversation, I just didn’t know any more. But i did enjoy the church.

After that i enjoyed a lazy lunch and cigar and lengthy bit of reading at a restaurant near my hotel before catching a tuk tuk to Kuskuam, which is the ruins of the palace of the Empress Mentewab, from the early 1730s. It was in a peaceful, albeit somewhat eerie setting on top of a small mountain and was great for a visit, although the solitude was somewhat broken by a group of school children who were entertained by following me around and jumping out to say hello and then run away.

The evening brought thunder showers and another power outage, so i spent the evening at the hotel reading by candlelight and reflecting on the day. Gondar was wonderful – much better than i had expected based on the accounts of other travelers, who said the sights were swell but that the constant hassle for money was exhausting. This was not my experience. I found it to be an interesting and restful place and could have easily spent more time there, but i had a flight the next morning to Lalibela, where more exploration would await.

Wandering North

Tag: cigar

Exploring Havana

Cigar Story

Cigars and the Perfect Piña Colada

Dinner Rolls and Love Songs

The Broad

Addis Ababa to Frankfurt

Back to Addis Ababa

Aimless Walking in Lalibela

The Churches of Lalibela

Final Day in Gondar