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Europe Ireland

New Year’s Eve in Dublin

I awoke in Dublin in my hostel bunk. I had had a perfectly lovely evening the night before but this was my one and only full day in the city. It was December 31st, and I would be leaving early the next morning. There was no time to waste.

I walked into the city and retraced some of my steps from the night before, to see the areas in daylight. The weather was not cooperating. It was windy and gray and cold. The grey and cold I was expecting and actually fine with, but the wind made things unpleasant. Fortunately, by the afternoon the sun would come out again for a bit.

I felt immediately at home in Dublin; notwithstanding the excessive alcohol consumption I had observed the night prior, it has a seriousness about it. A studious, literary kind of aura that I’m very comfortable with. It’s entirely possible that I am projecting onto the city that which I already expected from a lifetime of reading novels and poetry by Irish authors, but nevertheless, that’s how it felt and I liked it.

Walking around Dublin there were plaques and statues to great Irish writers and thinkers. I sought out Oscar Wilde’s house and the statue of him. I won’t post a photo of the statue as it is ubiquitous online and I’m not a big fan, but it was very cool to see his house.

I had planned, of course, to go to Trinity College to see the library, however, it was closed for cleaning or renovation, so I had to take it off the list. Right there is a good reason to return to Dublin. But I was able to wander the city. I visited parks and shops and numerous cafes whenever I needed a break from my walking in the cold. Everyone I chatted with was friendly.

I visited Saint Patrick’s cathedral, which was a ticketed church, but well worth it as it is beautiful inside and there is a lot to look at. I enjoyed the decoration and design of the inside of the church, as well as the mummified remains of a cat and rat that were pulled out of the pipe organ in the 1950s.

I wandered aimlessly through the city at some point taking in statues and green spaces and bits of street art.

I visited the pub the Brazen Head, which bills itself as Dublin’s oldest pub, having been open since 1198. It wasn’t the best pub that I’d been to, but since I was right there, how could I skip such superlative drinking experience?

I walked to the Irish Museum of Modern Art, which was excellent. Precisely the sort of modern and occasionally weird art that I enjoy.

I visited two cigar stores downtown. There was a James J Fox, which is related to the James J Fox tobacconist shops in London, which I frequent when I am there. As well as ‘The Decadent Cigar Emporium’. In both cases, I bought a couple of cigars and chatted with the proprietors about the smoking laws in Dublin.

I had read prior to coming to Dublin that smoking had been banned indoors everywhere, but sometimes when you make inquiries you can find that there are certain secret places to smoke. Sadly, both shops confirmed for me that smoking is indeed banned inside and that includes a prohibition on any cigar lounges. The people at James J Fox were able to give me intel on one pub, however, where smoking would be allowed because it is technically outdoors. The James Toner pub. I made a mental note of that for later.

I wandered the alleys and poked around in bookshops and vintage clothing stores, just enjoying whatever i found in my path.

I was having a perfectly lovely day – especially after the sun came out; however, things took a turn when the sun went down. It was December the 31st. What that meant was that once the evening came, everyone’s evening plans went into full New Year’s Eve mode. I didn’t have any New Year’s Eve plans being there alone in the city. I should say, I don’t like New Year’s regardless of where I am. I think it’s a stupid holiday. I don’t like excessive drinking, I don’t like staying up late, and I don’t like big raucous parties, so it’s just not for me. So spending New Years in a foreign city means that I’m a bit of an outsider. I would have been perfectly content to go for a nice dinner and have a drink somewhere but most of the restaurants had put in place expensive tickets for parties or multi course dinners with a prefix menu. And I wasn’t about to go and spend £100 to have a dinner or attend a party that I didn’t want. I also would have been happy to sit outside somewhere and just watch the world go by but, being that it was December in Ireland, it was cold and had started to rain again. I tried to elbow my way into a few pubs just to have a drink, but those places had already become so packed there was a waiting list outside.

Remembering the suggestion of the tobacconists at James J Fox, I walked to the James Toner pub. And this was my salvation. The James Toner pub is a proper pub, but they have a back entrance and there’s a sort of massive mostly enclosed patio area where smoking is allowed. You basically feel like you are indoors except that there is a small part of the ceiling that is replaced with the sky. It still had leather booths and tables and TVs and a full bar. The heaters were blaring and it was comfortable. I sat there and had three cigars and multiple Jameson and ginger ale drinks (a drink that I had only discovered once I went to Dublin and found to be quite tasty). People weren’t particularly social outside of their individual groups. It was New Year’s after all, and people were out with their friends to have a good time; they weren’t really interested in chatting with the weird foreign girl dressed in black smoking cigars in the corner. But that’s okay. I found a spot where I was comfortable, and I was happy to sit there quietly and just watch the crowd.

Once it got to be about 9:00pm, it was time to move on. The place was getting too busy and too loud, and I couldn’t sit there any longer. At this point I just reconciled myself to the fact that I wasn’t going to go to a big party so I may as well just go back to my dorm. I felt a sense of shame going back to the hostel actually. Here I was in a foreign country; was I really not going to stay up until midnight to ring in the new year? No, no I was not. I had a shower and got into my bunk and as soon as I did that I knew that I had made the right decision. I was cozy and comfortable I watched a movie and fell asleep. I got to enjoy a bit of New Year’s revelry but was able to avoid the last few hours of drunken idiots and staying up late just for the sake of staying up.

The next morning, I woke up early. I think everyone in the hostel was asleep. Even the lobby was littered with the bodies of passed-out revellers. I arranged a taxi and headed back to the airport and back to Vancouver. It was a little less than 48 hours that I was in Dublin and, clearly, I need to return to see more of Ireland, but I was completely satisfied with the short visit that I had. Although I’m not sure that I would be eager to go and visit somewhere for New Year’s Eve again, it was a great way to start off 2024.

Europe Ireland

Arrival in Dublin

The way statutory holidays fell in December of 2023, it made it irresistibly easy to take a long weekend away. I had just spent four days in Iceland over Christmas. I then returned to work for four days before again turning to the airport to fly to Dublin for New Year’s Eve. At the time, this seemed like a brilliant idea although I must admit that flying back across to Europe only four days after having just returned was a bit gruelling. But none of that mattered of course once i was in Ireland for the first time. It seemed brilliant.

I left Vancouver flew to London where I had a short layover and then flew to Dublin. This was my first time in Ireland and I wouldn’t have very much time there at all so I had to make the most of it. I arrived at about 4:00 PM on December the 30th and went straight to my hostel. I was staying at the Jacobs Inn hostel in Dublin, which was a great location, a short walk from the centre of town and to almost everything that I wanted to visit.

I don’t know what accommodation prices are like at times other than New Year’s, but at New Year’s that was very expensive. I booked myself a part in it room of 10 pods for women and I think that little bunk bed cost me about $150.00 a night CDN. Fortunately, I was only going to be there for two nights. It was a great hostel, extremely well designed. My little bunk was so cozy and comfortable it had all the necessary amenities. I scarcely saw the other girls that I was sharing a room with.

By the time I got myself organized and went out, it was dark. I walked across the bridge towards the Temple Bar area. I know, it’s super touristy, but when you never been there before it seems like a logical place to start in the evening. On the way I was walking down a street that seemed entirely unremarkable, when I past my first Irish pub.

It was called the John Mulligan pub and its sign proclaimed that it had been in business since 1782. Good enough for me, I went inside. It was exactly what I wanted it to be. It was simple, cozy, and busy, but not too loud; everyone in there looked like a local and was having a good time chatting with each other. There were still Christmas decorations up. I made my way to the bar and ordered a whiskey. This is the part of the blog where I should tell you that I don’t drink beer so I did not consume any Guinness. This was strictly a whiskey trip. I do like whiskey, but I don’t tend to drink the Irish variety. For my two days in Dublin I would use my naivete as an ‘in’ to talking with locals and bartenders about their whiskeys and asking them what they recommended. That worked well in this instance, as soon I was deep in conversation with two local fellows. If that had been the only thing I did in Dublin I think I would have left perfectly satisfied it was a great experience.

But I wasn’t done yet.

I continued over to the Temple Bar area, where things were noticeably more crowded and louder. The streets were charming. Clearly, there touristy, but they were extremely appealing. Everything seemed so Irish. There were fiddle players and whiskeys and Guinnesses, old buildings, men in tweed, young drunken boys smoking cigarettes…it was exactly what you would expect and everything you would want. I went into the actual Temple Bar itself, and got myself a different type of whiskey and elbowed my way into the centre courtyard, which only had a partial roof so, technically, smoking was allowed. I smoke some cigarillos and sat down and took in the scene. A band was playing Irish music in the occasional Leonard Cohen song. The place was standing room only and everyone was having seemingly the time of their lives.

I took this photo (below), which I think is my favourite photo that I took from the entire time I was in Dublin. There’s just so much energy and although you can’t see many faces, those faces that are exposed are all exuberant. It was another perfect experience.

From there I walked around, I had a mediocre meal of something that I can no longer recall that involved potatoes, and I hit up another bar where I had a whiskey and a cigar on the patio. A few people chatted with me, most of them drunk, some of them flirtatious. It was all very enjoyable. It was a little on the cold side but it hardly mattered as I had several whiskeys now coursing through my body.

It was a wonderful introduction to Dublin. The next day, December the 31st, was my only full day in Dublin and I had a lot to accomplish. I was in bed by about 11:00 that first night and excited for the next day.

(Whenever anyone tells me that my occasional short trips overseas aren’t worth the time for money that it takes to do them, I point to experiences like this. While Dublin certainly deserves more of your time than an evening, in that one evening I had a wonderful, memorable experience and I was thankful that I had another day to follow: New Year’s Eve.)

*many of the buildings had lighting projections*

Europe Iceland

Christmas Day in Reykjavik

Christmas Eve was behind me and i was confronted with my final day in Iceland: Christmas Day. I have not travelled much at Christmas. It is not a cheap as I would like, and some destinations are overcrowded. That said, it is easy to take a long weekend off from work at the holidays, so it is a convenient time for a holiday. Having done it a couple of times now, I can say this: Christmas is a good time to travel, but it is best to avoid Christmas Day.

That said, Iceland does have some fascinating Christmas traditions. There are a group of mischievous fellows called the “Yule Lads” (really) and their raison d’être is performing naughty pranks and delivering gifts to good children by placing them in their shoes. Their mother is a troll names Grýla who collects bad children in a sack and boils them alive, presumably for consumption. And there is the Yule Cat who hunts down people who don’t get an item of new clothing for Christmas and eats them. The best tradition, however, is the ‘book flood’, according to which books are given as gifts on Christmas Eve and then the rest of the evening is spent reading. This sounds wonderful – and after all of the naughty children have been kidnapped and eaten there is certain to be lots of peace and quiet for reading. Of course, I was solo and had no one to exchange Yuletide books with, so I needed to fill Christmas Day a different way.

I was flying home from Reykjavik on Christmas Day, but not until the evening, so I had a day to fill. That was a bit of a struggle. It was dark and cold and almost everything was closed. I ended up spending about $75 CDN on a buffet meal at my hostel. The hostel did have a nice cozy feeling, but no one was particularly chatty, so I ate alone. I am normally happy to eat alone, but on this particular day, where everything seemed a bit depressing, I could have done with some company.

I went out and walked around to sights that I had not yet laid eyes on; things I could appreciate from the outside and walked aimlessly for a while.

I stopped and I had a cigar sitting on a bench outside a closed early that had left its lights on and its pink plastic Christmas tree up and had a cigar. It was so cold, but it felt a bit special.

I then killed some time at the Lebowski Bar, simply because it was open. There was only one other table occupied inside. It did have a cozy feeling and was playing Christmas music. I had a mulled wine and mulled over whether Christmas Day was a good day to be visiting anything.

Fortunately, by early evening it was time to return to the airport.

I loved my time in Reykjavik, but I kind of wished I had left late on Christmas Eve or early on Christmas Day, as the last day just felt like an expensive way of killing time. Lesson learned for the future: use Christmas Day as a day for long haul travel; not for sightseeing.

Despite this, Reykjavik had exceeded my expectations. I can’t stop thinking about its beauty and magic. I even find myself thinking about how relatively close it is to Vancouver and how it is kind of a perfect long weekend getaway. Maybe I will return to see it again – maybe in the summer – but in the meantime there are more new places to discover. Like Dublin, which I would fly to four days later.

Europe Iceland

Iceland’s Golden Circle

As much as I enjoyed Reykjavik, I wasn’t coming all the way to Iceland and not going to see some of its heralded landscapes. If you can’t drive, it’s very difficult to see these places, and particularly difficult to see many of them in a day. As a non-driver, this left me with the only option of taking a tour. I’m never very excited about taking tours but when I do take a a tour, it usually ends up okay. What I dread is the group tour where even if the activities are acceptable, I never really want to interact with the group. That’s how this tour started, but it ended up being great.

There are countless groups offering identical golden circle tours in Iceland. ‘Golden Circle’ referring to a route of touristy spots and sites coined by the Iceland tourism board I believe. I don’t know how I picked the tour that I picked other than that it was a small number of people. It was a long day. They collected me in the morning at my hostel and dropped me off in the evening at the same place. Given that the days in Iceland at this point contained only about three hours of sunlight, much of the tour was in the dark. This is a consideration if you are going there in the winter; don’t expect to be gazing out the window at the landscapes all throughout the ride. Most of the time you’ll be looking out the window at blackness. In some ways that’s a bit of a disappointment, but I kind of enjoyed it. Once we got out of Reykjavik everything was completely blanketed in snow and snow was falling and blowing and the sky was black. At times, looking out the bus window, all I could see was the brightness of the snow and the blackness of the sky and no discernible shapes. It felt like we were in another realm.

*Picture I took from the bus window. It was originally just black but I increased the brightness to see what was there.*

And it was snowing. Hard and at an angle. I came to learn that even if you can drive, most locals don’t recommend that tourists rent cars in the middle of winter. The roads are too treacherous and the conditions too unpredictable.

Even before the sun came up, the sky began to lighten we could see the places that we were stopping.

Up first was the Kerid Crater, a volcanic crater that, in the summer, is a bright blue lake. In the winter however, it is a large divot in the earth’s crust covered with snow. Of all the sites we saw that day, this was the least impressive. I even posed in front of it for a photo but wondering why. It’s like posing in front of an empty bowl. (I have no doubt that it is better in the summer.)

Despite my ambivalence about seeing the creator, I absolutely loved getting out of the vehicle. This was the first time that we were truly confronted with winter. It was windy and snow was blowing and deep and crunchy and I had the distinct feeling that if I were left outside, I would perish. It felt very exciting. It’s difficult to capture the conditions in a photo, except that many of my attempted selfies ended up looking like this:

Back in the bus, the next stop was the Geyser. (Technically, I understand that it was the smaller geyser that we saw, called Strokkur, as the larger Geyser is no longer active.) We walked from the bus across the snowy landscape to a flat area, which was still snowy, but with crevices in the earth out of which warm water bubbled. We gathered around the geyser and waited for the eruptions. It was actually pretty impressive, as it shot into the air and enveloped us in a cloud of steam.

Strokker in action

From there, we went to the massive Gullfoss Waterfall. This was a pretty site but very unpleasant to visit. The wind was so strong that I had to lean into it and push forward with all my might to stay standing. Ice shards like tiny knives bit into my face. None of us spent much time outside. We got a quick look at the waterfall, snapped some pictures and hurried back to the bus. It was fun to really experience (albeit just for a few moments) the power of winter.

The next stop was my favourite: Thingvellir National Park. We walked from the bus on a path that led us to a corridor of sorts, with natural rock walls and trees. In the middle was hard snowy ledges and a frozen river and waterfall. It was unreal in its beauty. It one of the prettiest things I’ve seen anywhere. It did not seem real and was pure magic.

I asked a woman to take my picture. Me in my 100^th country.

At this point, I wandered off in a different direction from my group. I do not advise this. I was so enamoured with the snow that I began trudging through a deep, untouched trough of snow with the high rock walls on either side. I loved the silence and the beauty of it. …but the path didn’t go anywhere and at some point I realized I had to go back – and fast – as the bus would leave soon. I speed walked (as best I could) through the snow and past the icy river, not even bothering to stop at the place where the European continent meets the North American continent and made it to the bus as the final one to board.

*Me before I realized I was kind of lost*

Our final stop was at a hot spring. It was supposed to be at the Blue Lagoon, but a volcano had erupted nearby in the previous few days and the lagoon was closed on a lava alert. We went instead to Hvammsvik Hot Springs, a newly opened hot spring on the edge of the sea.

When we got there, it was again dark. We entered the small but stylish facility and were given wrist bands. These would open our lockers and allow us to order drinks from the bar whilst in the water. In the change room, we were to change into our swimwear and shower before entering. I am thoroughly uncomfortable with public nudity, but when in Iceland…I showered quickly changed into my swimsuit.

*View from the hot springs (with the brightness enhanced so something would be visible in the photo)*

The short walk from the change room to the pool was bracing. I had the impulse to run, but the good sense not to, as the path was slick with ice. In the water, all discomforts were gone. It was so pleasant. I’m not one for hot tubs or group bathing, but this was lovely. It was dark and warm and, in the distance, the snowy hills and frigid sea created a surreal backdrop. This was the first time on the trip that I really chatted with anyone. It was nice to get to know some of the people; particularly a father and son traveling together after the loss of their wife/mother. After we left the pool and dressed, we shared a meal in the restaurant. It was nice how in the serene environment of the springs we all opened up and shared our stories.

On the long drive back to Reykjavik there was a bit of chatter and then silence as we all gazed out into the night.

I got back to my hostel in the evening, but early enough to go out. I went out to a cocktail bar and got a drink and sat outside and had a cigar. There were a lot of stylish and cool bars open and packed with local people out in groups, dressed smartly, and bar hopping. I sat outside with my cigar and my perpetually icy drink watching the scene and reflecting on the snowy wonderland I had been in.

It was a thoroughly satisfying day. The next day would be Christmas Eve, and I had a bit more of Reykjavik to see and a magical tour of magical creatures.

Europe Iceland

Reykjavik in December

I knew I would go to Iceland eventually, but it was not a place I was excited to go. People seemed so enthusiastic about it, and I never understood why. It is a mostly outdoorsy place, and I am a mostly indoorsy person. It does look beautiful, but I thought, “What, I’m going to go to Iceland to look at a green, treeless expanse? And then what?” But the eventuality came about in December as I decided to go away for four days over Christmas and Iceland was the best option.

Practicalities

A few practicalities: Reykjavik is a surprisingly short flight from Vancouver; about 7 hours direct. Vancouver is so far away from most other countries than anything less than 9 hours seems short. There were no visa requirements places on my Canadian passport. Iceland is an easy place to visit. Credit cards are accepted widely so you don’t really need cash (which is a bit of a shame as their currency – Icelandic króna – is beautiful. While the national language is Icelandic, most people (at least in Reykjavik) speak English as well. The buses are easy to navigate and there is a good tourist infrastructure.

Iceland may be easy to visit, but it is not cheap. While there are some cheaper options farther away from the centre of Reykjavik, I wanted to be central and paid about $150 CDN/night for a prison style bunkbed at the Kex Hostel. (The Kex Hostel is nice and cozy, but it is expensive, and the rooms are basic. I.e. no curtains on the bunks and no clever amenities). Food was also super expensive. Like a drip coffee at a café was about $7 CDN and a terrible pre-made sandwich from a supermarket was about $20 CDN. It’s doable, but I was definitely glad that I brought protein bars with me.

I can’t say that I went to Iceland for Christmas and not mention the weather. Of course it was cold, but not prohibitively cold in Reykjavik when I was there. No colder than -10C. I didn’t need special clothes; I just wore my usual Vancouver winter clothes but with an extra layer. I did arrive without a toque however – like a fool, I brought only a jaunty beret and that was a mistake. I bought a woolly toque on my first day to keep my head from freezing. Oh, and I brought a bunch of those chemical hand warmer things, which was a good thing.

Exploring Reykjavik

I arrived in Reykjavik at 6am after a red-eye flight from Vancouver. On the way, my seat mate nudged me awake to see the northern lights. Subtly green, but they were there. It would, unfortunately, be the only time I saw them on my trip to Iceland, as it was cloudy the whole time.

I went straight to my hostel and dropped off my bag and went off to explore. It was dark. It was dark most of the time I was there because, well, it was at the time of the year when the days are shortest. The sun rose at about 11:20am and set again at 3:30pm; barely peeking above the horizon. This meant that most of my sightseeing was in the dark, which is definitely a different experience. I live in Vancouver, and I wake up at 4am, so going out before the sun is up is a familiar experience, but not for sightseeing, and I had never experienced such few hours of daylight each day. It was weird. It was unsettling. I loved it. It made everything feel special. It was, in fact, one of many of the things that I loved about Iceland.

Good morning, Reykjavik!

I walked the dark streets. There were patches of crunchy snow, which made everything feel brighter. It was December 22^nd, so the buildings were decorated with tasteful strings of Christmas lights. The first thing I noticed (apart from the darkness and cold) was that the buildings are a distinctive style: two-story, colourful buildings with pointy roofs and corrugated metal exterior walls painted bright colours. A pleasing aesthetic like that in Greenland and Newfoundland.

I stopped at the locally popular Braud & Co., which was just opened, and bought a fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon roll; part sweet treat and part handwarmer.

*my favourite of Reykjavik’s street art murals*

more street art

I took in several intriguing street murals and found my way to the intersection of Reykjavik’s two most famous sights: The Hallgrimskirkja and Rainbow Street. The Hallgrimskirkja is a Lutheran church built in 1937 in a striking style design to resemble Iceland’s mountains and glaciers. If you’ve ever googled Reykjavik, you’ve seen it. It is impressive. At night it is imposing and illuminated. By day light it is stark and pristine. There’s nothing exciting about the interior, but the view from the lookout, which I returned to do at daylight, is spectacular.

Rainbow Street (really Skólavörðustígur) is a main commercial and Instagram-famous street that starts, or ends, at the square in front of the Hallgrimskirkja. I walked down the street and popped into the Café Babalú for a coffee and to warm up.

*me on Rainbow Street after the sun was up*

While I loved the magic of Iceland in the winter, the downside is that I needed to patronize frequently cafes for warmth and rest. In the summer, you might take a break from your walking by sitting outdoors on a bench for free, but in the winter, you want to be inside and inside costs money. Those expensive café visits really add up. Nevertheless, Café Babalú was charming and oh so cozy; filled with cute and nostalgic bric-a-brac.

I walked and wandered until the contemporary art museum opened: the Reykjavík Art Museum Hafnarhús. Admission was about $25CDN and worth every penny. It was an excellent and not overly large modern art museum in a curious building that looks like an origami-folded newspaper.

When I exited the museum, the sun had risen and Reykjavik was revealed. I had to retrace my steps to see all the same buildings and murals by day. The real highlight was that I could see the ocean. Reykjavik is right on the coast and many of the streets appear to disappear right into icy blue water. In the distance…an island? A chunk of ice? A glacier? It looked different to anything I had seen.

I walked to the Reykjavík Art Museum Kjarvalsstaðir, which was included with my ticket to the first one. Another good museum, and the walk was stunning.

I continued my walk to the Asmundur Sveinsson Sculpture Museum, also included with my ticket I bought to the first museum. Here’s the thing, I actually did not like any of the sculptures inside this museum (with apologies to Ásmundur Sveinsson), but one of the ones outside were interesting, set against the snow, but the real draw was the building itself, which is just very cool. It was designed by Sveinsson and was his home and studio prior.

By the time I walked back to central back to central Reykjavik, it was dark again and I was feeling pleased. Reykjavik is small and I had seen much of what I wanted to see, but fortunately I had more time to explore, because there was more terrific stuff ahead.

Smoking Cigars in Reykjavik

On that first night, I found a place to smoke a cigar before I bunked down in my hostel.

Smoking in Reykjavik is banned everywhere indoors. I chatted with the proprietor of a cigar store there and they confirmed this. Not even a secret cigar lounge, but smoking is allowed on patios – Hooray! But it was winter and very cold, and most patios were not open. It seems that not a lot of people smoke, so they didn’t have the whole heated patio, cozy blanket set up. Fortunately, I found a café / bookstore / live music venue on Laugavegur street: Hús máls og menningar. It is a cool place inside, but outside, they have a small wooden patio, slightly sheltered and with a heater. I hunkered down there and had a Quai D’Orsay with a negroni. When my cigar smoking hand started to freeze, I switched hands. Totally worth it.

me with a cigar, braving the cold

My first day in Reykjavik was a success, I thought as I snuggled under heavy blankets in my hostel bunkbed. But the best was yet to come. The next day I would leave the comforts of Reykjavik for a day trip into the countryside.

Africa Zambia Zimbabwe-Zambia 2023

Last Stop: Lusaka

I had arrived in Lusaka in the afternoon of Saturday, arriving by car from Livingstone. I set out immediately to explore what I could of the city. I had read a lot of things about Lusaka that suggested that it might not be particularly safe after dark, so I wanted to get in the sightseeing that I could while I could on that first day. I set off from my hostel – Lusaka Backpackers – to explore.

Lusaka doesn’t seem to have an overwhelming abundance of intriguing touristic sites, but I always say that there’s something worth exploring in every city.

Unfortunately I had missed the closure of the museum, which I had really wanted to see, and it would be closed the next day as well, but I walked to it so that I could see the freedom statue out in front.

National Museum of Zambia and the Freedom Statue, marking Zambia’s independence.

I walked around a busy street catching some glimpses of mosques and a few interesting buildings. But I didn’t have a lot of time before the sun went down. I walked through sort of a residential neighbourhood filled with flowering bushes and trees and made my way to a cute cafe set in a garden (The Garden Café & Buddha Bar), which I recommend as a pleasant oasis.

I had a bite to eat and a cigar and ended up chatting with the owner for over an hour. He is from Zambia originally but had moved away to England and moved back. It was fascinating to hear his theories about why, he felt, Zambia is so culturally diverse and safe. His theory was that tribes from lots of different warring countries around Zambia had all fled to Zambia to escape conflicts and as a result, the country was full of people who were diverse and peace loving. I don’t know if that is true, but I certainly cannot contradict it; nor would I wish to.

I walked back to my hostel just as it was getting dark. I don’t know if it was safe or not to be out after dark, but I was also fairly tired so I spent an evening hanging out at my hostel before going to bed.

The next morning, I got up early, determined to make the most of what I could that day. I had to leave for the airport around 4:00 that afternoon. Again I went out exploring. A lot of things were closed in Lusaka on a Sunday, but it was pleasant to walk the quiet and colourful streets.

I visited several cafes, but I had breakfast at this wonderful restaurant called Meraki Café, which is not a far walk from my hostel. (I think there is more than one location; the one I went to, which is so pretty, is on Chaholi Roasd). It looked like it was lovely inside, but I never made it past the wonderful outdoor garden seating. I had an excellent breakfast and a morning cigar. It was the sort of place that if you weren’t looking for it you wouldn’t stumble across it because it was tucked away on a residential street. I got the sense in my short time in Lusaka that a lot of places were like that, just hidden away, which makes it difficult to see a lot on a short trip, but I did what I could.

Breakfast at Meraki Café

I took the bus to the African Sunday crafts market, which was worth the journey. Lots of masks and paintings and other sorts of crafts being sold. It was a little outside of the centre, so I took a bus. I walked around and looked at the offerings, which were lovely, but how many things can one buy? After a bit of haggling, I walked away with a mask for my office.

At this point it was time for me to head back to the hostel and get organized to go to the airport. My trip to Zambia and Zimbabwe was at an end — or just about, as I had a long layover in London ahead of me.

Africa Zambia Zimbabwe-Zambia 2023

Zambian Zebras in Livingstone

Coming from the border with Zimbabwe, my taxi driver dropped me off at my accommodations: The Ravine Lodge. I was still on a high from having seen zebras by the roadside and I was excited to explore a new country: Zambia.

The Ravine Lodge was comfortable. I had a nice private room in a bungalow around a grassy courtyard. I would have no hesitation recommending the hotel as it was a good price and just a short walk into the city centre. That said, that short walk into the city centre felt like a long walk during the day because it was so hot and felt long at night because it was so dark and I was concerned about what creatures might be roaming around.

The Ravine Lodge

But I didn’t come to sit in my hotel

walking in Livingstone

I walked into the city centre. I liked Livingstone; it is small and there is not a lot to do there apart from animal and river activities. The central crafts market (the Mukuni Park Curio Market) is open most days. It is small enough so as not to be overwhelming and has an excellent assortment of local handicrafts. I eventually bought a mask and chatted with some of the vendors. There is a small museum in town, which is worth visiting if you have a bit of extra time but is okay to skip if you don’t. I made my way through the city stopping at various cafes along the way enjoy some air conditioning and a bit of coffee. It was an easy place to visit. People spoke English and are used to tourists; and it felt safe.

cellphone booths

downtown Livingstone

crafts market

My time in Livingston really had two purposes: number one was to visit the Devil’s Pool at the Victoria Falls; and number two, was to do a microlight flight over the falls. Once I had done those two things in the two days that I had in Livingstone, I was going to head to Lusaka. Things didn’t go quite according to plan. The Devil’s Pool was amazing and I have written about that separately, but the microlight flight never happened. I had pre-booked a flight with this company and prepaid them what I think was about $200 US, but on the day that I was to do it they said the weather wasn’t cooperative and they wanted to reschedule for the next day. I said that was fine. However, the next day came and they said the weather still wasn’t good. And since I was leaving the next day, it meant I never got the chance to do the microlight over the falls. What was more frustrating was that they refused to refund my money on to my credit card so that was a bit of a loss (yes I’m aware I should have done a charge back on the credit card but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it). My fault. So I spent my two days in Livingstone just kind of wandering around and taking it easy.

An excellent café, the museum, and a church

While I didn’t have the microlight flight over the falls, I had something that might have been even better. On that second day when I realized the microlight flight wasn’t going to happen, I thought about what I could do. There is no end to the amount of activities that you can do at Victoria Falls, but I had already done the Devil’s Pool and I had already visited the falls from the Zimbabwean side and I just didn’t feel that excited about going kayaking or bungee jumping or any of those things. So I decided to go to a very fancy hotel for drinks and a cigar. I think this idea came from someone who commented on a post I made on Instagram about the fact that my if I was looking for something to do I should have tea ta the Royal Livingstone Hotel. I wish I could remember who that was because I would thank them.

I took a taxi to the Royal Livingston hotel, which is south of the Livingstone town centre. It is a big luxury hotel set along the banks of the Zambezi river with a view of the spray coming up from the falls. It is absolutely stunning. A graceful mansion set on manicured grounds surrounded by forest and facing the river. I could never afford to stay here, but I could afford to go there for a drink. They have restaurants and bars including one appropriately called the Traveller’s Bar, and they have a sundowner bar that is al fresco and set right along the banks of the river. I thought “what a great place to go finish out the day and have a cigar.” The real draw however was that, allegedly, because there are no fences around the hotel, animals will just wander into the grounds to nibble on the grass by the river. I didn’t know if this was true but I thought it was worth visiting to find out.

As my taxi pulled up to the hotel, a giraffe ambled by in front of the car. This is only the second time I had seen a giraffe in the wild and the first time I wasn’t expecting it. Similar to when I saw the two zebras by the roadside the previous day, I started to exclaim and giggle with wonderment. I managed to get a short video, of which this is a still:

I walked through the lobby of the Royal Livingstone Hotel (trying to look like I belonged there) and back outside to the river. As I stepped out onto the grass I saw zebras. Maybe a dozen zebras, including a baby or two, just on the grass in the shade. I became overwhelmed with emotion; it was maybe one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen and I hadn’t been expecting it to look anything like this. I felt emotion well up in my throat and my eyes were tearing up. It was a wonderful feeling.

As I walked to the bar, which was really just a wooden platform with seating under the trees, the bartender greeted me and asked me how I was doing, and I burst into tears. Not sad tears, just overwhelmed with emotion tears. Sometimes when things are wonderful I will tear up, but it isn’t very often that I actually start to cry. I was trying to explain to the bartender why I was crying: simply that it was so beautiful and the zebras were so amazing and unexpected, but as I was saying this I was still crying, a scenario I found ridiculous, which made me laugh. So then I was there crying and laughing and trying to explain myself to this bartender who only really wanted to know what I wanted to drink. A bit embarrassing, but mostly just a great moment.

Fortunately, there was another tourist there, a doctor from Vancouver Island of all places, and he offered to take my pictures in front of the zebras. I am so happy that he did because I think this has become maybe my favourite picture of myself in my travels. Cigar in hand, all dressed in black, and somewhere amazing. It really is a good encapsulation of me.

I sat at the bar and had a cocktail and watch the sunset into the river, chatting with the Canadians seated nearby. In the distance I could see and hear hippos in the river. A zebra or two walked in front of us just as the sun was setting. It was really amazing. I could have stayed there forever, but eventually it got dark and there was nothing to see.

At this point I decided to settle in at the Traveler’s Bar, or more particularly, on the patio of the Traveler’s Bar, for a bit of dinner and another cigar.

I had a bite to eat and was just about to order a cocktail when a man and a woman walked past me heading into the restaurant. The man was holding a box that contained a bottle of Scotch and an opaque Ziploc bag that I knew probably had cigars inside. I was smoking a cigar and as he walked past, he stopped and looked at me and I at him and I said “Are those cigars you have in that bag?” And he responded “I’m just wondering if we should come and join you.” I suggested that they should absolutely join me, and they did. The man and his girlfriend were locals and I found out during the conversation that the man was a member of the Zambian government. (I don’t know if I’m supposed to say who he was so I won’t.) Three of his other friends joined us and we sat and had cigars and drinks until late into the evening. It was such a great experience. His friends were all well-to-do Zambians; One a designer of banks, another owned a winery and game reserve, another one was some kind of a technology business guy. The girlfriend was, like me, a lawyer.

At one point, my governmental friend pulled out a Zimbabwean cigar – a Mosi-Oa-Tunya. This was a cigar that I had been looking for when I was in Zimbabwe but was unable to find it. I had sent an e-mail to the company, but they had not responded. When I commented on it, my friend gave me the cigar and called up the owner of the Zimbabwean cigar company and put me on the phone with him to arrange getting me some of those cigars. I always say that cigars are such a great social lubricant. If you’re a cigar smoker and you meet another cigar smoker not only do you have cigars to talk about, but it is understood that there is a fraternity of sorts and you are both members and that it is not only acceptable but encouraged to share your time and conversation with each other. Having that cigar on that patio allowed me to have one of the more memorable evenings on my trip, connecting with interesting local people over cigars

And as we sat there, the animal parade didn’t stop. Zebras continued to walk past us in the darkness.

It was an incredible evening in a perfect way to wrap up my time in Livingstone. The next day I would head for the capital of Zambia: Lusaka.

Africa Zimbabwe Zimbabwe-Zambia 2023

Visiting Harare

I arrived in Zimbabwe after a long flight from Vancouver via New York and Nairobi. I landed in Harare. The purpose of my trip to Zimbabwe it was to visit Victoria Falls, but there was no way I was going to skip visiting the capital on my first visit to Zimbabwe.

Arrival in Zimbabwe

I don’t think Zimbabwe way it needs much of an introduction, but just in case: it is in southern Africa, formerly Rhodesia. It became independent in 1980 and then from 1980 to 2017 was under authoritarian rule courtesy of Robert Mugabe. During this time there was massive inflation, human rights violations, and corruption. Things are better now. What Zimbabwe always had however is astonishing natural beauty and wildlife. The former being the reason for my visit.

Two fun facts about Zimbabwe.

It has more official languages than any other country (16), though English is most commonly spoken.
During the period of hyperinflation in around 2008-2009, purchasing power of the currency got so bad that the government had to issue notes as high as 100 trillion. Some of these are still floating around for purchase by tourists and nerds. I was not lucky enough to get a trillion note, but I did find some in the billions and millions.

Visas

As a Canadian, I was able to get a visa at the border. I knew I would be in and out of Zimbabwe a couple of times on my trip, so I tried to get a multi entry visa or at least a double entry visa, but this was denied and I was only given a single entry visa, which cost $75.00 US payable in US cash on the spot. It was effectively a cash grab and there was no formality and no application. (These is a thing called a Kaza Visa, which gives multiple entries to Zambia and Zimbabwe, but it is no longer given to Canadians since Canadians no longer need a visa to visit Zambia.)

Accommodations

I then took a taxi to my accommodation: the Bronte Garden Hotel. Honestly, the Bronte Garden Hotel is a little bit above my general budget, but it looked so charming and I felt that after such a long journey it would be amazing to stay in such lovely surroundings. The Bronte Garden Hotel, at least its main building, was built in 1911 as the house for some sort of industrial colonial bigwig. It was converted into a hotel about 50 years ago. It is a collection of two or three white two-story buildings set amidst lush tropical gardens. There are trees and flowers and pools, statues, and lovely seating areas set under the trees. A bar and a restaurant. It feels quite special.

The thing that put it within my reach price-wise is that while the main house is well outside of my normal budget, they have some more basic rooms in the houses that are much more affordable. These cheaper rooms are less fancy, but you still get access to all the same grounds and amenities, and that’s really the reason that I wanted to stay there. I enjoyed my time at the Bronte Garden Hotel immensely. The two nights that I was there, I spent my evenings in the garden with cigars (actually I also spent my mornings in the garden with cigars) and I had several conversations with other people staying at the hotel, most of whom were there on business from South Africa. It was just a lovely oasis.

me and my breakfast cigar at the Bronte Garden Hotel

Wandering in Harare

But of course, I didn’t come to Harare to sit in a hotel. I was in the city for a day and a half, two nights in total. The first day, I arrived at midday I didn’t do much of note. I essentially walked around the neighbourhood. Lovely wide streets with flowering orange and purple trees, apartment buildings and big houses. It was pleasant but I didn’t see anything too interesting.

An afternoon walk

The next day, my one full day in Harare, I really explored the city. I walked from my hotel to the National Botanic Garden (free), because it opened early. On the way I walked past a golf course and saw small antelope bounding across the greens. The gardens were beautiful, with different plants and landscaping suitable to different climates. It was massive, more than I could see in one visit, but I enjoyed a stroll around the grounds and chatted with a young man who was friendly and taking a detour on his way to school.

National Botanic Garden

From the garden I walked to a café called The Bottom Drawer. It was in a residential neighbourhood, basically operating out of a house. It was absolutely lovely, set in a garden with plants and trees and chickens running loose I sat on a comfy sofa on a covered veranda and had coffee and sandwich while I planned my next moves.

I had walked quite a far way from my hotel and in the opposite direction from where I wanted to go next, so I took a taxi back to my hotel and then walked from there.

a park near the National Gallery

I walked into the centre of town, passing along the way lively street markets and businesses, busy with traffic and commerce. I had wanted to visit the National Gallery and that was my first destination, however it was closed (Mondays). Fortunately, the Artopia Café in the in the gallery was open. A cool cafe with art and free wi-fi and coffee and lots of young people working on laptops. It was a good spot, especially after my long walk. Behind the gallery, accessible from the café was an outdoor sculpture gallery, so I got to see that, which I enjoyed.

Artopia Café and the Sculpture Garden

I could have gone to the Shona sculpture gallery, which is a popular tourist attraction, however my hotel had a lot of Shona sculptures in its gardens and I didn’t feel need to see more. But I did visit another gallery near the National Gallery about a block away, called the First Floor Gallery. It is on a higher floor of a commercial building and has almost no signage, but I found it. It is a small gallery (free) and with interesting contemporary art. Plus, it has access to the roof from which you can get a decent view of the streets below.

First Floor Gallery & and the view from the roof

Walking through central Harare was moderately interesting. It was pretty orderly and it lacked the chaos that I often enjoy in big African cities. I got in trouble only once for attempting to walk up to a statue that was accessible on a small bridge over an intersection. I got halfway there and the police on the street started shouting at me to turn around, so I did. I don’t know what the problem was it was completely accessible, but I didn’t argue.

*intersection with the off-limits statue*

I spent a couple hours just walking around Harare, checking out a market and some of the interesting architecture, and just looking around. Harare was interesting enough for a day, but I definitely didn’t feel the need to stay there for longer than that. For those of you that wonder about these things, it felt totally safe.

street markets

sights in Harare

I returned to the hotel for dinner, and cigars and chitchat in the gardens until it was time for bed. It might seem fast, but it was the perfect amount of time for me to visit Harare and I really enjoyed it. But on my third day I took off again for my second location in Zimbabwe: Victoria Falls (the town and the falls).

Balkans Trip 2023 Europe Montenegro

In Defence of Podgorica

Podgorica is often referred to as ‘Europe’s most boring capital city.’ It is either dismissed or reviled. (For the latter stance, I recommend this blog post, which is too harsh, but it is a fun read.) So why did I voluntarily spend two days there? I shall explain and also justify why Podgorica is actually ok.

A bit about Podgorica and why I was there

Podgorica was at the end of my Balkans trip. I had started in Ljubljana, gone to Lake Bled, Zagreb, Sarajevo, Mostar, and then Podgorica, from where I would fly home to Vancouver. My plan, when I booked the trip, was to use my time in Podgorica as a base from which to visit coastal and medieval Kotor. But then I arrived in Podgorica and the thought of getting on another bus and traveling in a long day trip AND the thought of visiting somewhere else precious and picturesque just did not appeal. All the places I had been were so busy with tourists and many of them were so precious, that I just found if off putting. I just wanted to do something more normal and unexciting. Podgorica fill the bill.

The thing about Podgorica is that it was decimated in World War Two. Here and there you can see slivers of history. There are a few blocks of old cobblestones and the barest of ruins of a castle, a clock tower, and a stone footbridge. Other than that, everything is after the war and it’s not great. There are even far better cities for Soviet modernist architecture. There are no impressive museums, no ornate churches, no notable street art scene, no wonderful parks. Everything it has is fine.

I arrived in Podgorica by bus from Sarajevo. A stunning journey, scenery-wise. I was deposited at the bus station and walked to my hotel: the Hotel Marienplatz. Perhaps not surprisingly at this point, there are no charming or cool accommodations in Podgorica; at least not that I could find. I picked my hotel because it was central, not too expensive, and looked conformable. After ten days of dorms bed, I was ready for a little comfort. The Marienplatz was on a pedestrian street lined with restaurants and bars and, at night, is absolutely throbbing with music. Fine. I can sleep through anything.

I dropped of my stuff at the hotel and hit the streets. I spent a day and a half (two nights) in Podgorica. Here is what I did…

The streets around my hotel

Laziness Along the River

There is a river that runs through the centre of the city. It is fairly shallow and not that wide and has high, steep edges. Various bridges run across and there is a park on either side. From the bridges you can see people swimming and kayaking in the river. If you were so inclined, you could join them. I was not so inclined, so I wandered around the ruins of the castle and took a picture of some small murals at the foot of a bridge and had a drink at the cutest little tiki bar in the park by the river.

This tiki bar is so cute; just a little tiki shack in the park with a handful of seats – a couple of them are swings. I sat and had a drink and chatted with the bartender and a young guy celebrating his early 20s birthday. We talked about our lives and about how Montenegro has a reputation for laziness – a stereotype the Montenegrins seem to have embraced. During the time I was there, the annual ‘Laziest Man’ completion was ongoing; an event in which men compete to see who can lie down the longest. The bartender spoke about how he had always been a bartender and the young man, who was going to school in Germany, said he aspired to move to Brazil because they seem to not work that hard. Fascinating.

Near the river is a hotel, the Hotel Podgorica notable for its modernist design by architect Svetlana Kana Radević. I went and had a cigar on the very excellent patio overlooking the river.

High Five

I walked to Blok Five, which is a group of high-rise apartment buildings, now at least party abandoned. They were designed and built in the 1970s/80s with the goal of creating a perfect community that emphasized community involvement and communal living. The buildings are worth a visit if you like that kind of architecture or if you like creepy feeling abandoned places, or graffiti. I like all three.

Under the Bridge

I visited a lot of cafes, the best of which was the Itaka Library Bar, which is just under a bridge, by the river. On one side f the structure is a small bookstore (all in languages other than English) and on the other side is a café/bar with some indoor seating, but the real pleasure, was sitting outside, under the bridge and next to a small riverside patch of green. I went there twice and loved it. Great spot to smoke cigars.

Cigars in Podgorica

There are a few cigars stores in Podgorica. None were cheap, but all had good selections. There were no dedicated cigar lounges, but smoking was allowed on every patio. I smoked a ton of cigars during my time in there.

Art

There is an art gallery/museum. Local artists and a few historic relics. Really it is shocking that for a capital city – that this tiny museum is the best they came up with – but it was interesting, and it was free, so I am not complaining. As mentioned previously, there are some murals/street art in Podgorica, but nothing amazing or worth specifically seeking out.

A Glimpse of the Past

There is a small (pocket-sized) historical neighbourhood that someone survived the war and there are a few streets with cobblestones and cute houses with grapes growing. On the edge of the neighbourhood is a clock tower that is the oldest surviving thing in Podgorica and it is…honestly, it is not that interesting, but if you are there, you may as well seek it out.

Two Churches

I walked to the (Catholic) Church of the Holy Heart of Jesus, which is interesting in that it is such a severe concrete, brutalist structure. The walk there is not at all pleasant, as it is just along stretches of highway, but if you are into weird, brutalist structures, as I am, it is worth the walk.

I walked to the beautiful Orthodox Temple of Christ’s Resurrection, which was stunning inside and out – and the walk there was lovely, just across the river and past the tiki bar. I bought a trinket at the church shop and chatted with the woman working there. She seemed genuinely thankful and surprised that I was visiting Podgorica.

Podgorica after Dark

In the evenings I stayed on and around the pedestrian street where my hotel was. During the day the streets was quiet and pleasant but at night….wow. It was like an actual party. Every single bar and restaurant was packed. There was live music and karaoke and DJs playing impossibly loud music. The women were so dressed up. Tiny sequined dressed, skin-tight body suits, stiletto heels, cleavage, fully made-up faces and gorgeous. Men were there too. I asked at the hotel if there was something special going on, but they said, no; on the weekends, locals just like to dress up and go out. After a lot of searching, I found a place on a patio and had a cigar and watched the parade.

Is Podgorica worth visiting?

I did all of this in a day and a half. I walked a lot, exploring to seek out other things of note, but there was not much else worth mentioning. The nice thing was that I got to sight-see at a leisurely pace. Normally I am moving around at such a fast pace; this was a relaxing change.

Podgorica was warm and sunny. It was quiet. There was birdsong and coffee, time for luxuriating on patios, and just being present. There was no reason to rush anywhere to see things because there was not that much to see. What there was to see was interesting and attractive enough. I had a great time. Would I recommend visiting Podgorica? No. Not at all (unless you are on a quest to visit every capital city in Europe), but if you are there, or if you have the opportunity for a long layover, there is enough to see to make it worthwhile. It might be ‘the most boring capital city in Europe’ but still has redeeming qualities and was a nice way to end my Balkans trip.

Balkans Trip 2023 Bosnia and Herzegovina Europe

At the crossroads in Sarajevo

I flew to Sarajevo from Zagreb. Sarajevo wasn’t supposed to be the highlight of my Balkans trip that year, but it ended up being just that.

*Sebilj in Sarajevo (Ottoman wooden fountain)*

Arrival in Sarajevo

Sarajevo is the capital of Bosnia and Herzegovina, the country that has been many things. I will not even attempt to describe the history of the geography of this part of the world and the many conflicts that led to it being what it is today, but in a nutshell, when Yugoslavia broke up in 1992, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, it was divided up into a series of states including the Socialist Republic of Bosnia and Herzegovina. When that Republic had a referendum to decide whether it should further subdivide, the Bosnian War broke out. A localized conflict between Bosniaks, Serbs, and Croats which became an international armed conflict complete with war crimes and genocide. It was probably inevitable. A perfect storm of conflict that dealt with history, culture, geography, and religion. It is probably still the thing that most people think of when they think of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

I arrived very late at night in Sarajevo and was picked up at the airport by a guy and a gal who run a tour company in the city (Meet Bosnia Tours). My hostel had arranged for them to pick me up because there wasn’t proper transportation at that late hour. I later looked them up and saw that the guy had given Bill Clinton a walking tour of Sarajevo, complete with pictures on the website. I decided that I would do their free walking tour the next morning.

I was staying at the Franz Ferdinand Hostel. It was cheap and centrally located and really felt more like an apartment than a hostel. I had a private room with a small bathroom and a shared kitchen in a hallway where there was a timeline of the events of World War One marked on the floor. My room was near the Battle of the Marne.

Morning walk

The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, and thankfully not dreaming about over half a million dead European soldiers, I went out into the city. Sarajevo is so intriguing. Divided by the Miljacka River, it is also divided between East and West. Sarajevo was the administrative seat of both the Ottoman Empire and the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and it displays its divided past proudly. One side of the city feels a bit like Turkey, with mosques and narrow streets cafes selling Turkish coffee and baklava with carpets and shisha. The other side has churches, ornate buildings, cafes selling Viennese style coffee and cakes, and more western European style streets. It quite literally feels like the best of both worlds.

scenes in a divided Sarajevo

The first order of business, of course, was coffee. Bosnia has its own coffee, Bosnian coffee, which is very similar to Turkish coffee (for the reasons just described), but the preparation is a little bit different.

I had a coffee (delicious) and wandered around the square, visited a church, and started to explore the streets. I walked along the river, which is very picturesque with numerous bridges old and new. I crossed to the other side. And meandered around residential streets. Rough looking but well cared for buildings, flowers, a bit of street art. There were some curious statues of circus performers strung across the river. I stopped to browse booksellers setting up along the river before making my way to the appointed spot for my free walking tour.

A tour through history

I haven’t done one of these free walking tours in a long time. I think they are excellent opportunities to learn a little bit about a city and the history and pay only whatever you think is appropriate for a tip, but often the schedules don’t suit me, or I’d rather just explore on my own. But the history of Sarajevo is so complicated, and the current state of things is still contentious, and I really hoped to learn something from the tour, so I joined. I’m glad I did. I got all the information that I could have wanted, including about how there are still tensions in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Some people would prefer the country to fracture further into newer smaller countries, and ethnic and religious differences are still a source of strife. The only downside of the tour was that it was enormous. There were about 30 people, and while I made a point of always being up at the front of the group, it was a bit too large and could have been a little bit faster paced with a smaller group; but it was free, friendly, and informative.

Armed with my new knowledge, I really appreciated the city even more. I notice the bullet holes that cover so many of the buildings. Some have been completely repaired, others simply plastered over so you can so you can still see where they landed, and some have been left as reminders of the not-so-distant past. There are places, like in front of the cathedral, where bullet holes and mortar shell damage is marked by red paint as a reminder of those who died on that spot. It is one of those places where the war is so recent that when you walk around you realize that everyone that nearly everyone you see either lived through or fought in the war or has parents who did. So the scars, like the bullet holes, were still fresh.

*bullet holes and markers of death at the base of the Sacred Heart Cathedral*

There are, as I understand it, several very good museums in the city about the war and the genocide and those experiences. Unfortunately, because I was only there for a short time, just two days (and one spent visiting Mostar) made the choice to skip the museums. If I were going back, they would be top of my list.

In terms of historical sites, I think my favourite spot was seeing the place where Gavrilo Princip stood when he assassinated Archduke French Ferdinand on 28 June 1914. In case you don’t already know, I like history. I even have a degree in it (which doesn’t mean that I know a lot it just means that at one point I studied it a bit) and the First World War is my favourite war. I know it’s weird to have a favourite war, but for a variety of reasons that I’m not going to go into in this post, I’m fascinated by World War One. To see the spot where 19-year-old Gavrilo Princip the Archduke Franz Ferdinand (and his wife), was amazing. This is the act that set into motion the First World War the end of the empires of Europe, and really the start of the modern 20th century. As a cynical friend said to me “if it hadn’t that act, it would be something else that started the war.” That’s true, but it wasn’t something else; it was this, and the spot itself is fascinating.

There’s a small marker which is very politically neutral. This might seem surprising given that it is a marker of an assassin and murderer, but as the tour guide explained to us Gavrilo Princip’s legacy in the country is divided. Some people view him as a hero and others as a terrorist or anarchist. So the marker does not refer to the moral quality of his act, it simply notes that this is where it happened.

*the assassination happened at the foot of this bridge (the Latin Bridge), at the corner of the pink building*

More walking and sights

I spent most of my time in Sarajevo doing what I always do walking around taking insights looking at interesting buildings and historical spots, drinking coffee and smoking when I can. The coffee in Sarajevo was great the food, for vegetarian it wasn’t so great, and at this point I was entirely sick of burek, the ubiquitous Balkan greasy cheese pies.

I had a cigar and coffee and the excellent Cafe Divan, hidden away in a pretty courtyard, thick with smoke.

I visited the Gazi Husrev-beg Mosque, and wandered the streets.

Abandoned bobsled hike

One thing I was excited to do in Sarajevo was to explore the bobsled track on Trebević Mountain. In 1984 Sarajevo hosted the Olympics, and as part of that, they built a bobsled track on the mountain. Due to years of neglect, and probably the war, the bobsled track has fallen into ruin. Just across the river you can walk and follow the signs to the cable car and for a small fee it will whisk you up the mountain. (The cable car, originally built in the 1950s, was completely destroyed during the war, but was rebuilt in 2017-2018.) The ride is 9 minutes long, whisking you 500 meters up, and when you finish you are 1164 meters high on Mount Trebević, with excellent views of the city.

*near the stairs leading to the gondola*

From the gondola, you can go hiking on the mountain or follow the signs to the bobsled track, which is what I did. Almost immediately I ran into another girl (Canadian and traveling solo), and we decided to walk along and then hike back up the track together. I was thankful for the company.

The bobsled track is excellent, particularly if you love abandoned places and graffiti, which I do. It winds through the mountain and is completely covered in graffiti. In places it is intact, in other places it is broken. Effectively, you walk to the bottom of it and you have to hike back up to the top which seems a bit punishing in the heat, but it’s not too long and it is certainly a good exercise. Apart from a couple other people we passed, we were entirely alone on the track, which gave it a bit of a delightfully eerie feel.

Zlatna Ribica

Following way descent from the mountain, and parting ways with my short-term companion, I made my way to one of the best bars I’ve ever been to. Zlatna Ribica. (Goldfish.) In the centre of Sarajevo but, it’s not something that you would likely stumble across if you were just walking around as it is a bit tucked away. It is a delightful tiny bar, warm with browns and golds cluttered with objects and antiques. It feels like the sort of place that you might go to have your fortune told by a mysterious old woman. There was soft jazz music playing and a cool goth girl serving drinks when she wasn’t knitting and smoking cigarettes. I asked for the menu, and she brought me a deck of cards. Each card had written on it in sharpie a drink. There were two people in there smoking cigarettes which was amazing to me, because, while smoking on patios in Sarajevo was certainly allowed, I hadn’t seen anyone smoking inside. I asked the girl if it would be possible for me to smoke a cigar inside and she simply shrugged and said in deadpan heavily accented English “Why would it not be ok?” And that’s when it became my favourite bar. I had previously wondered where to smoke cigars in Sarajevo? I had found my spot. I sat in there and smoked a cigar and had a drink and listened to the music and was the happiest I had been all day. And it was a good day to start with.

Wrapping up Sarajevo

I had three nights and two days in Sarajevo, which probably would have been enough time to really do it justice, except that on my second day I wanted to visit Mostar, and did, so everything that I’m describing in this post is what I did on day one. The following morning, I went almost immediately to Mostar, and I got back in the afternoon and spent my final evening in Sarajevo wandering the streets, eating local food (I found some vegetarian dumpling dish), smoking shisha, and trying to cure a recently onset cold with local apricot and honey brandies. This was before taking a bus to Montenegro.

I just loved Sarajevo. Just a wonderful combination of cultures in a historically fascinating place. I could definitely go back.