cigar Archives - Page 3 of 26

Eritrea-Djibouti trip 2024 Europe United Kingdom

London Layover: Mayfair Morning

I left Djibouti city late afternoon, had a short layover in Dubai, and then a seven-hour layover in London. Never one to miss a London layover, I caught the Heathrow express to Paddington and then walked Mayfair.

If you read my blog at all regularly, you might know that I always go into London if I have a layover of at least five hours. The longer the layover, the more I can do. (Check out this post for my best ever London layover.) Seven hours is a decent amount of time. It gives me an hour from wheels down to arriving at Paddington, and then I usually give myself three hours before my flight to head back to the airport (because i am paranoid about missing flights) so I only had about three hours in the city, but it was worth it.

Every time I go into the city, I tend to pick a different neighbourhood or activity, although often that activity involves cigar smoking. With not very much time, I decided that a little coffee crawl around Mayfair would be a good idea. My flight landed at 7:00 in the morning so it was a perfect time to hit up the cafes. The air felt cool and refreshing after having been in the scorching heat of Djibouti. I sauntered leisurely around the streets and hit up a few cafes.

I went first to Cardinals Café. Nothing too extraordinary, but I liked it, an Italian café tucked down a side street and busy with people off to work. I had a double espresso and small cigar outside on the patio where a man awkwardly told me that my backpack had caused my dress to ride up above my bottom. Is there a word in English for being both mortified and thankful? There should be.

I went to the charming and fancy H.R.Higgins, a tea and coffee merchant in business since 1942. There I got a little adventurous and I tried some concoction that was a mixture of orange juice and espresso. Honestly I didn’t really care for it, but I also I had a croissant before carrying on with my stroll.

*H.R. Higgins (I resisted the urge to make any Magnum PI references)*

I visited Everbean x BIBI’S for my third espresso of the day, a nice neighbourhood café. I sat outside and was feeling so relaxed and in the moment that I even forgot to take a photo.

From there I just meandered about before going to Selfridges to visit the James J. Fox cigar store at that location. Usually I go to the James J. Fox location on St. James’s St., which has an excellent cigar lounge upstairs. This is simply a small retail outlet inside the Selfridges, but I wanted to pay to visit. I went in and picked out a few nice cigars. I was feeling a little bit sheepish because I looked a little rough. After traveling around my clothes were a bit dirty and rumpled and I had the look of someone who had been on a red eye flight, and I was still wearing my backpack, but I still received a polite reception and the people were very friendly as I chatted with him and told him about some of my recent adventures. Cigar people are lovely people.

At this point, I didn’t have much time left, so I leisurely walked back to Paddington station, smoking a small cigar. Did I do any sightseeing? No. Was it still worth it heading to London for this short time? Yes. Thought that maybe the espressos talking.

It was a perfectly pleasant way to end my trip to Eritrea and Djibouti. Even with all the things that went wrong on this trip, it was my favourite trip of 2024.

(My next trip would be to Southern California for some Halloween fun.)

Africa Djibouti Eritrea-Djibouti trip 2024

Two Great days in Djibouti City

Djibouti was my destination after Eritrea (following my brief and unplanned overnight in Dubai). Djibouti is right below Eritrea and above Somali on the Red Sea and the Gulf of Aden. It is a tiny country, just 23,00 square kilometres with just over a million inhabitants. A former French colony. It is an important shipping country and as a military base, due to its location. The capital and main city is Djibouti City.

The flag and the map. That’s Djibouti on the horn of Africa in green.

Day One – Arrival and Impressions

I flew in from UAE to wonderful views, having a whole row of the plane to myself.

I applied for and received my e-visa for Djibouti without issue. I provided my hotel booking and an invitation letter from a tour that I booked – not a tour for the whole stay, but for an overnight trip to remote Lake Abbé – and the visa was issued. No problems at arrival in Djibouti City. I caught a taxi and went to my hotel.

I was staying at the Ras Dika Hotel, which is right in the middle of everything. There was noting fancy about it, but it was clean and air conditioned and had a little seating area out front where I could have a cigar and watch the very busy street. The owner is apparently Canadian and the manager is from the Philippines. He was a very nice guy and helpful. I told him I needed to change some money, and we walked me a block away to a corner where older women sat in the street in chairs with large handbags on their laps. The money changers. He helped me get a good rate for my money. (I changed US dollars.) I had my walking around money and so I was off to explore.

Shortly after I arrived in Djibouti City I got a text from a friend, and she asked me if it was nice. I really hesitated before responding to that text message because I knew that the person who asked this question would most certainly not think that Djibouti city was nice. They would probably think it was awful. And a lot of people do say Djibouti City is awful. It’s hot. So very hot. It is a bit hectic and lacks infrastructure. Like ATMs, unbroken streets, good public transportation, lovely parks. It does have a beautiful sea front but attempting to walk along it is difficult because of the heat and the path is at one point blocked off causing you to need to take it ridiculously long detour away from the shore. Djibouti city is loud, and might be a little bit scary if you’ve never visited other African cities. But I have visited other African cities, and I thought Djibouti City was OK. I don’t think I’d recommend it to people. There’s not a lot in terms of attractions. Museums and art galleries and whatnot are basically nonexistent. But it does have basic infrastructure. Running water, air conditioning in some businesses, restaurants that look like restaurants, and importantly, sidewalks. Not sidewalks in all places, but sidewalks in areas with lots of vehicles.

I always feel like sidewalks or a good test of how well developed a city is. Sidewalks show a level of planning and thought for the citizens that live there. Sidewalks also give a person the ability to walk down the street without constantly having to worry about being run over. Where you can walk down the street without worrying about being run over your mind can turn to happier thoughts and generally leads to a more relaxed state of mind.

Anyway, Djibouti City had those things. And while I wouldn’t describe it as beautiful, I did enjoy my wander around.

Half of the city feels relatively developed and half of the city feels relatively underdeveloped. My hotel was just a few blocks into the more developed area. On my first day in Djibouti that was the side that I visited.

The buildings are not all in good repair, but there are some attractive ones, with Islamic style arches in some designs, some attractive mosques and a couple of nice cafes. There is also the market, which as far as markets go isn’t that picturesque, but it’s lively and authentic and gives you a sense of the place.

On my first day I walked around this neighbourhood taking pictures, stopping for generally substandard coffee, and exploring.

Finally, I felt like I needed a bit of a respite, so I walked from my hotel to that of the Hotel Kempinski, which is on the sea at the end of sort of a peninsula. It was about a 40 minute walk and quite pleasant as a lot of the streets had trees.

I arrived at the gorgeous hotel and made my way to the seaside where there was a bar and restaurant overlooking the ocean. I sat and had a juice and a coffee on the bar side with my cigar, before moving to the fancy Italian restaurant side for dinner and a drink and another cigar. Inside the restaurant it was cool and air conditioned, and outside it was hot, but I wanted to smoke my cigar, and I enjoyed watching the sunset over the sea and the rustling palm trees. It was exactly the relaxing visit that I needed.

I wasn’t sure if it was safe to walk back to my hotel at it was quite dark, so I had the hotel called me a taxi, which wasn’t particularly cheap but I appreciated the convenience.

Just a comment about the cost of Djibouti. It is not cheap. Sure, you could go to some hole-in-the-wall restaurant and have a bite to eat and it won’t be that expensive, but things like taxis and hotels and meals in restaurants that look like restaurants are all quite expensive, as are most of the tours that you can book. It’s sort of place where most people traveling there are doing so on a business trip, and so the nicer hotels and restaurants can afford to charge inflated rates.

The Final Day

I had four days in Djibouti city, but two of them I spent doing an overnight tour, which I’ll write about separately. On my fourth day, I had to be the airport rather late in the day, so I spent my daytime visiting the other side of Djibouti City, the less developed area.

I walked a bit more near my hotel and then crossed over. The less developed side was very interesting. It was a different world from the part I had already seen. This side of the city had no charming colonial buildings no paved streets no sidewalks, and really virtually no basic amenities. The streets were dirt and the houses were built out of corrugated metal and leftover timber. The streets were filled with roaming goats and chickens, people washing their clothes in buckets or cooking their food over fires. There was a market selling basic household supplies and tools. There was not much in the way of restaurants or cafes, but there were little shops selling basic essentials.

I really enjoyed visiting this neighbourhood. Despite how poor it was, it was pretty. Colourful. There wasn’t a lot of litter and the houses were all different bright colours. The sun was shining and it wasn’t hectic or crowded. I definitely stood out. And I wasn’t entirely sure if I was supposed to be there, so I didn’t take a lot of pictures. People stared at me but did not seem unfriendly.

Eventually I walked back towards my hotel. Grabbed bite to eat at an Ethiopian restaurant with a rooftop patio, strolled around a bit more, enjoying the crumbling architecture and hand painted business signs and numerous chat markets and then returned to my hotel to kill time before going to the airport.

At the hotel, the manager introduced me to another guest who had just arrived, coincidentally, another lawyer from British Columbia, Canada who is traveling by himself. This fellow was traveling from Egypt Southward with the idea to keep going until he ran at a time and had to be back at work period the nice guy we sat and chatted while I finished my cigar, at that point I went back to the airport, to fly home via London.

If you haven’t read about my truly excellent overnight visit to Lac Abbé, Djibouti, you can do so here.

Otherwise, this particular trip is nearly at an end. All that remains is a pleasant layover in London which if you care to read about you can do so here.

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Overnight at Lake Abbé

I enjoyed two days in Djibouti City, but the real draw for me was the countryside. There are a number of excursions that one can do on a tour in Djibouti. You can do long treks, wildlife encounters on the land, whale sharks in the sea, etc. The thing that I wanted to do though was travel inland to Lake Abbé, so I looked for a tour operator to do an overnight visit to that destination.

There were a few offering this service, but the one that I found eventually had the best price and itinerary combination. Africorne Travel, run by a pleasant and professional French guy, Alain, living at least part-time in Djibouti. Sometimes he runs the tours himself and if he is not around then he has a local run it. I was in the latter category.

The Journey

On the day that we left, my guide picked me up in a big 4×4 off road vehicle, driven by a driver whose name I can’t recall. We set out. We stopped at a market to buy some fruit and then drove past some large Chinese infrastructure building roads, and then we were out in the countryside.

The drive was excellent. There are some small towns and villages along the way as you drive to the lake. We stopped at one to have lunch, before continuing on our way. But as we got away from that small town, the land just became barren. Some small rocky hills or sometimes just miles of flat cracked earth. Little to nothing was growing, there was no water to be seen, aside from the odd camel, very little in the way of wildlife. The roads disappeared and we were entirely off road. The temperature was in the mid 40s. It was desolate.

*my crew: stopping for cigarettes and snacks*

What I found amazing, was that in this very inhospitable landscape, there were still small villages. In these small villages people seemed to live of houses that resembled rounded piles of sticks and fabric. There would be one or two shops, that were sort of like cinder block cubes. We stopped at one to pick up some water and cigarettes. But I just kept thinking, why live here? No shade or water, electricity or any conveniences. Surely like would be better in a town or at least somewhere where you cold grow food or fish, but you have to respect the resilience.

I was enjoying the journey, but what was unusual was that we were collecting people along the way. It had started with just three of us, but after our lunch in the small town a man with an orange beard joined us, and for a time another young man joined us. I gather we were giving them rides to other places that we were going. It was fun and I was happy for whatever was going on. I have since then had people ask me if I felt safe as a solo female traveler with all these strange men in the middle of nowhere; and the answer is yes. Without reservation.

The drive should have been about 6 hours not including lunch. So I was counting on it being maybe 7 hours or so. Even as I thought that, I did recognize that things can always go sideways, especially where, as here, there are no roads, but I was keeping my fingers crossed that in about 7 or 8 hours I would be at my destination camping out by the lake.

Unfortunately, things did take a bit of a turn. We got stuck in the mud. It’s funny to say “mud’’ because there was nothing remotely wet or muddy about the ground, but we got stuck in layers of dirt that had formerly been mud I suppose. We all got out of the vehicle and tried to help rocking it back and forth to get us unstuck. That was to no avail. And then we walked out from the vehicle into the landscape looking for large branches that we could use to put under the wheel to make sort of a ramp to drive out on. But the landscape was nothing. It was like the moon. There were no trees, and any bits of wood were just little twigs. Finally, two of the guys decided that they would walk back to the last village that we had passed and ask for help. The last village we passed was a ways back, but I figured that was the only option. (It’s worth mentioning, that in this landscape not only is there no Wi-Fi of course, but also no cell signal. Is the sort of place where you could imagine just dying if you didn’t have the right provisions.)

While we waited for them to return, I sat on the ground in the shadow of the vehicle and smoked cigarillos whilst being bundled up on a long-sleeved hoodie and brimmed cap. It was roasting, but I wanted to stay out of the sun.

I was expecting my travel mates to return with a vehicle with 4-wheel drive and a winch to pull us out of the hole, but what they returned with were three skinny young men in sandals, and with a collective weight of about 300 pounds, and a shovel. How was this going to work?

They got to work, digging a bigger hole and then filling it in with dirt, packing it down and adding more. And then with a bit pushing from all of us, we were out. Two of the guys walked back to the village with the shovel, but one guy joined us for the trip. Now we were six.

The new guy took over for the designated driver and it was clear why; he skills to navigate the terrain far exceeded that of the original driver. We drove in and out of deep crevices in the earth where water once flowed, we scaled hills that seemed to be nothing more than piles of boulders. A couple of times we briefly got stuck again, but he freed us quickly.

Of course, this delay had dramatically extended our journey and by the time we got to Lake Abbé, the sun was setting, but first I got a preliminary view of what I had travelled so far to see.

Lake Abbé

Lake Abbé is salty lake at the border of Ethiopia and Djibouti and is considered to be one of the more inaccessible places on earth. The landscape is flat and then towards the edge of the lake are these craggy natural chimneys and a small, dormant volcano. Because of the late hour I would have to wait until the morning to visit them, but I got some nice views from the camp.

The camp consisted of some igloo-shaped grass huts with cots inside, a covered patio area, cooking area, and toilets that worked if there was water.

I sat on the patio area with my companions. Only two spoke English, but we sat and ate dinner and drank tea, watching the landscape disappear into darkness. I enjoyed a couple cigars.

*On the right, that is me trying to take a selfie and being startled by a flying insect.*

Because there is no electricity and nothing for miles, the sky was spectacular with stars and in the distance there was occasional lightening. I went to bed but quickly realized that the huts were like tiny ovens, so I dragged my cot outside and slept soundly under the stars.

In the morning, before everyone else got up, my guide and I walked to the lake. The ground was crazy. In places it was hard and cracked with dried salt and in other places you would sink into mud past your ankles. There were fissures in the earth in places where hot water boiled up, producing steam. It was so cool; truly like being on another planet.

We could not get right up to the lake as the mud was too thick, but we got to see a lot.

Back at the camp, we had breakfast and then four of us walked to a different part of the lake, where the water appeared pink – because it was covered in flamingos! I had never seen so many. It was incredible. We couldn’t get too close without scaring them off, so my pictures are a bit lacking In quality resolution, but in person it was beautiful.

*Me and the original guide and driver and the substitute driver*

We packed up and started the journey to another lake – Lake Assal. On the way we met lots of camels and a small troupe of curious monkeys.

Our group dwindled as we dropped off our add-on travelers and again, we were three.

Lake Assal

Lake Assal is relatively close to the city, but on the other side. (It is easily visitable as a day trip from Djibouti City.) It Is notable for being a hypersaline lake, like the Dead Sea, and also for being the lowest place in Africa. I had had the experience of floating in the Dead Sea and didn’t feel like getting all salt encrusted so I didn’t swim in it, but it was beautiful. Like nothing I had seen before. Blinding white and reflective; like ice. We could walk out quite far on the salt before it turned into a lake, but with the water on top of the sale it became like a mirror.

At the shore were a few young men and boys selling salt and items, like animal skulls, that had been submerged in the lake and were now salt-encrusted artifacts.

*this would have looked so cool in my office*

We drove back to the city, stopping at a massive gorge and a view of the landscape.

It was an excellent experience and while it was not cheap, it was worth the money.

Back at Djibouti City, I would have another day before heading home via London.

For my post about Djibouti City, click here.

Move on to my layover in London here.

*friendly kids in a village in Djibouti*

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Escape from Eritrea

This is the tale about how I was briefly stranded in Asmara but was able to get out quickly through some sheer luck, kindness, and quick thinking.

In my previous post I wrote about my arrival in Eritrea and the splendid first day that I had visiting the sites of Asmara. I was poised to spend another two days in the capital enjoying being off the grid and relaxing at cafes and checking out historical architecture. I awoke that second day feeling slightly more rested. I’d slept for about four hours, and I headed out in search of coffee. I had an espresso and was just walking down the Main Street when I ran into my guide from yesterday, Selihom. I said “Hello,” and she almost immediately asked me if I was affected by the flight cancellations. “What flight cancellations?” I asked. She told me that Air Ethiopia had, effective immediately, canceled all flights in and out of Eritrea after some perceived sleight. While Ethiopia and Eritrea aren’t technically at war, they are in sort of an administrative standoff and have been for decades. “Huh,” I thought, “that doesn’t sound good.” But I didn’t immediately panic. Yes, in two days’ time I had a flight out of Eritrea on Air Ethiopia flying to Addis Ababa and then to Djibouti, but that was in two days; “Surely things will get sorted out by then,” I thought.

I went and had a cigar and one of those excellent tiny little macchiatos that they make in Ethiopia and Eritrea and I thought about the situation. It quickly dawned on me that this was actually quite bad. There were only three airlines that fly in and out of Eritrea and Air Ethiopia was the main one. If the flights were grounded I had no way to leave. (Land borders were not an option.) And while sometimes I wouldn’t mind being stranded abroad, Eritrea is not one of those countries. It’s not that isn’t lovely, but it has certain disadvantages: the lack of Internet means working remotely is impossible, the very high price of accommodations makes it impractical, and the fact that they don’t accept credit cards means that my cash would very quickly run out. I realized that I needed to get out of the country right away before any remaining flights filled up with people trying to do the same thing.

Fortunately, I had downloaded an offline map of Asmara ahead of time and consulted it and found three airline offices in the city. The first was Air Ethiopia. That very quickly turned out to be a non-starter. The office was closed and there were about 100 people outside angrily yelling and demanding service. Then there was an Air Emirates and a Fly Dubai office side by side downtown. The Air Emirates office had two very stressed out looking representatives working and a massive queue of people waiting for assistance. These were all people that were affected by the flight cancellations looking to get out of the country. The Fly Dubai office only had one customer service representative but had slightly fewer people in the queue. So I decided to wait there. With me in the queue was a woman living in Tanzania who had come to Asmara on business; she was a conservationist working with the government. She was in the same situation as me. She was very pleasant, and we had a lovely chat while we waited. She travels to Eritrea a lot and confirmed that these flights were going to fill up quickly and once they did there would be no way, easily, out of the country.

When it was my turn, I went up to the representative and said that I was looking for a flight out of the country later that night or the next morning to Dubai or Istanbul or Addis. (I didn’t want to fly back to Cairo because I didn’t have a visa for re-entry.) From any one of the three cities I would be able to get a flight to Djibouti.

The woman said we have a flight to Dubai tonight at approximately 11:30pm. “Terrific,” I said, “I’ll take it. How much?” “$714 U.S. dollars,” she said. I froze up for a second and asked hopefully, “Do you take credit cards?” “No,” she said, “only local cash and US cash.” OK. I had an envelope of cash with me. I pulled it out and started counting out my US money. I started by counting the 50s, then the 20s, then the 10s, by the time I got down to the ones, I realized I wasn’t going to have quite enough. I was $7.00 short – but I had euros. “No euros,” she said, “only U.S. dollars.” I did have the option of leaving and exchanging the euros into local money and coming back, but she wouldn’t hold the flight for me. I tried to bargain with her, but she wasn’t budging and the others behind me waiting to book flights were getting impatient (I imagined). Thankfully my conservationist friend from Tanzania handed me a crisp US $10.00 bill and allowed me to make the payment. Hallelujah. The woman was booking herself on the same flight to Dubai later that night.

I paid for my flight and headed back to my hotel with $3 in my pocket.

A few pictures i took that day before i got the bad news

I was feeling pretty pleased with myself. I was able to act quickly figure out what I needed to do and get a flight out of the country, all without using the Internet or credit cards. Just old-fashioned map reading quick thinking and cash carrying.

I still had no idea how I was going to get to Djibouti, but I was going to figure that out once I got to Dubai and had the Internet access.

I exchanged €10, which gave me enough to have dinner and get a ride back to the airport.

At my hotel I ordered dinner. Some vegetable pasta. However, when they brought it to me it was meat pasta. I normally wouldn’t care about these things, and I would just send it back and ask for what I ordered, but I was running out of time before I had to go to the airport and there was no time for them to remake the dish. Nor were they willing to give me a refund. It was all very frustrating, but I didn’t have time to argue with them. So I just left my food and my money, hungrily, grabbed my bag and caught a ride back to the airport.

The airport in Asmara is quite bare bones. There are no lounges. There are a couple of souvenir shops that may or may not be open. Other than that. it’s just benches. Like an old-fashioned bus stop. However, the mood was fun. I saw the faces of many people that I had seen throughout the day at the different airport offices. We were all smiling at each other and happily saying things like “Oh you made it!” and feeling sort of a general camaraderie about having gotten out of a bad situation. I sat with my conservationist friend and chatted until the flight came. Oh, and I had a shot of Eritrean vodka from the small bar/cafe at the airport, which cost me about $1.

Once I was on the plane with the wheels were up, I felt a more relaxed. I didn’t get to spend my three glorious days in Asmara, but I got to spend one very enjoyable day of sightseeing and another rather exciting, albeit stressful, day of problem solving. Even though it was a bit stressful in the moment, I knew that later on I would look back on this experience fondly.

Plus, this really reinforced a lot of my travel habits, including: always have cash (more than you need); know your maps, and have a printed or offline one; know how to get around and generally do things without the use of cell phones and Wi-Fi; and be flexible.

As we left Asmara very late and we landed in Dubai at about 6:00am, I had little or no sleep again that night, which made probably five days of having less than four hours of sleep. I would land in Dubai without any fixed plans but knowing that I needed to get to Djibouti in about 36 hours so I would not miss out on the rather pricey overnight tour I had booked to visit Lake Abbé. I was up for the challenge.

Read on here for my overnight Dubai layover and how I managed to get myself to Djibouti.

As a postscript, about a month later, my Air Ethiopian flight was refunded in full. Although I ended up spending far more for my last-minute tickets to Djibouti than I had originally. Air Ethiopian flights eventually did resume to Eritrea, but I wouldn’t count on it. If I was doing the flight now I would probably pick a more reliable airline.

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Back in Time in Asmara, Eritrea

When I told people I was going to Eritrea, all but the most die-hard travelers had not heard of it. Fair enough. Although Eritrea is famous for a long-standing conflict with Ethiopia, it is not well known to your average person. Eritrea occupies a sliver of land northeast of Ethiopia, just above Djibouti, and along the Red Sea.

Eritrea has been notoriously difficult to visit. You need a visa and someone on the ground to arrange it for you. At the time I went, you had to go as part of a tour, but the tour needn’t occupy all of your time. You needed a permit to leave Asmara (the capital). There is little to no wifi, no ATMs, credit cards are not accepted, and the country tightly controls the information coming in and out. It is often referred to as the “North Korea of Africa.” Not exactly inviting.

But I was so curious to visit this secretive nation that I planned a trip around it.

I booked a day tour and visa support through an Eritrean travel agency called Adulis Travel. They were very helpful. All I had to do was send them my info and agree to pay them in cash and they took care of my visa, hotel, and tour.

I planned to spend a few days in Asmara. One day on the tour and then two days to myself being gloriously offline; relaxing at cafes and taking in the architecture.

I arrived from Cairo (written about in my previous post). I arrived after midnight and my guide, Selihom, was waiting for me and thankfully so. With her help, I was able to get my visa in my passport in about 30 minutes. Others waited for more than an hour. I paid $70US cash for the visa and Selihom dropped me off at my hotel, promising to pick me up in a few hours for my day tour. Sigh. Another night of only a few hours’ sleep.

I stayed at the Crystal Hotel. There are other and cheaper options, but they are located farther from the centre. The Crystal Hotel was not cheap, but central and well staffed. My room was huge and devoid of any character.

My first glimpse of Asmara was that it was completely empty of people and quiet at this time of night. Also, the streets were immaculate. Well-paved and free of trash. It looked quaint and I could not wait to go see it tomorrow.

The next morning, Selihom picked me up with a driver. The tour would be a walking / driving affair. It was a good introduction to the city. Of course, were it not for the need to have a tour to get the visa, I would have visited on my own and that would have been fine, but we did see a lot on that first day and I got a good sense of what the place was like. What was allowed, what people’s lives were like, etc. As much as you can in a day.

We visited Medebar market – always a favourite stop of mine. We went to a local scrap area where people were taking discarded items and making them into new things. Old paint cans, scrap metal, barrels et cetera, all became something new. They told me this is because of their environmental concerns, and I am not saying that is untrue, but it is certainly also because they do not have a lot of money or access to world markets.

Medebar Market and a welder there with a homemade mask

We visited a video store and electronic repair shop. I know, but it was really interesting. Because there is little to no wifi in the country, people are not streaming their media; they are renting it. Ah, nostalgia. The guy fixing the TVs and phones said he could fix everything and did. Again, in a limited economy things must be reused, but it is also a good lesson to those that throw things away and replace them without a second thought.

We walked the streets of the downtown area. This was terrific. Asmara is full of 1940s architecture, and little has been upgraded. It is a UNESCO site for these reasons. Part of what makes it so appealing is that the Italians occupied Eritrea, built terrific theatres and cafes and then left and the country has been more or less frozen in time since then. Those cinemas and cafes are still in use. The coffees and atmospheres are wonderful. All of Asmara has this suspended in time feeling and in a lovely way. No billboards or flashing signs, people are not on their phones constantly (because no wifi), there are old cars, clean streets, and everything is quite well taken care of. It reminded me a little of Havana before they got wifi.

This was the atmosphere I wanted to enjoy for a few days.

The only downside is that Asmara has very strict smoking laws. No smoking indoors or on any patios. Period. And I only found one place (a courtyard at a hotel) that was willing to break the rules. That was a bit of a disappointment. I had imagined myself on patios with tiny Eritrean/Italian coffees, puffing on a Ramon Allones. Oh well. I still was able to smoke outside my hotel in the evening sitting on a chair they let me borrow.

We continue our tour by visiting the thing I was most excited to see: the Fiat Tagliero Building. The building was designed as a petrol station by Giuseppe Pettazzi and was built in 1938. It has an art deco/futurist style and is intended to look like an airplane. It is fabulous. It is no longer in use but is very much intact and you can enter and climb up to the roof for a different perspective. It was this building that first made me want to visit Asmara and it did not disappoint.

But there was more to come!

We visited the tank graveyard; a pretty field littered with piles of tanks, trucks, and other army vehicles. They remain there as a symbol of Eritrean independence and its victorious struggle against Ethiopia in the war of independence (1961 to 1991). The site is just out in the open but there is a cabal of taxi drivers who monitor the comings and goings and charge a small fee. It was super fun to climb on all the old wrecks and play with the tanks.

Amongst the things frozen in time in Asmara is the bowling alley. Built in the early 1950s for American using a base nearby, it exudes vintage charm. Vintage photos of long deceased leagues adorn the walls. Translucent red brick detail on the walls and lanes where the balls are returned and the pins reset by hand. By children. Of course, Selihom and I played a round. There was no one else bowling at the time, but the billiards tables next to the lanes were packed.

We stopped by a cemetery and walked the tombstones and then we had lunch.

Traditional Eritrean food is similar to Ethiopian and I had a platter of vegetarian treats served on spongy injera bread.

We made a final stop, which was up in the mountains for views of the valley and to try a local cactus fruit that is picked and sold by the local kids. Honestly the fruit was only so-so, but I had several of them.

It was a marvellous day. I learned a lot of about Eritrea, saw ‘the sites’, and enjoyed Selihom’s company. And then I was set free.

I went out for dinner – pizza (hey, it was an Italian colony) – and had a walk and a cigar before bed. I couldn’t wait for the next day of wandering around at my own pace and enjoying the city. Except…that didn’t happen.

Sorry for the cliffhanger, but read on, for the tale of how quickly things can change in Eritrea.

Africa Egypt Eritrea-Djibouti trip 2024

Return to Cairo

I planned a trip to Eritrea and Djibouti. On the way there I would have a 24-hour or so layover in Cairo. I was delighted. I hadn’t been to Cairo since 1995. Even more excited because when asked what my favourite country is, a question that is impossible to answer, my standard response is Egypt. I loved Egypt I travelled from to Cairo, Aswan, Suez, Sharm El-Sheikh, and Dahab in ‘95. I loved everything that I saw and did. So I was thrilled to be going back, even if just for a short visit.

(Right about here, I would normally provide a link back to the previous posts that I had done about my past trip to Egypt. But I was there in 1995. This was before blogs and international ATMs, digital cameras, Google maps, text messages and GPS. I think that is part of the reason that Egypt is one of my favourite trips ever, because it was all done solo and without all these modern day conveniences. I really had to figure it out as I went. And it was an amazing adventure.)

*Flashback to me in 1995 heading out on my first solo trip to Israel & Egypt*

Returning to 2024, Egypt and Canada were having some sort of a row, so they had done away, temporarily, with the e-visa and visa-on-arrival systems and I had to spend nearly $300 CDN sending my passport away to the embassy for a more traditional visa. But I had it in place and was ready to breeze through immigration. Which I did.

Arrival and my Night in Cairo – Things go a bit wrong

I landed late. Hopped in a taxi and went to my hotel downtown. The Eileen Hotel. By the time I got to the hotel it was about 11:30 at night. I should have just gone to bed because I had a full day of sightseeing that I wanted to do, and I was already tired from having flown from Vancouver to London to Cairo, but as the taxi zipped through the city and I saw all the people out at cafes smoking shisha and lights on the buildings, I thought “I should go out for just a little while.” And so I did – and here’s where things started to go wrong, as they did repeatedly on this trip.

I didn’t have any Egyptian pounds. I had American dollars and some Euros. But since many things were closed I didn’t see a place to change money, so I went to an ATM. A proper ATM at a bank. I inserted my card, tried to take out money, and the machine would not return my card. It gave me an error message. And when it became apparent that my card was not coming out, I started to panic a bit. This was my only source of getting cash. Yes, I had cash on me, but I was going to two other countries that were primarily cash-based economies, and I needed that money to pay for things like hotels and tours and food. If I couldn’t get some extra cash, I was going to be in a bad way. Plus, I was tired and not thinking that well.

I waited in the ATM vestibule as person after person came in to use it and discovered it was out of service. I tried to ask for help but most of them didn’t know what I was talking about. Finally, the machine made a loud kerchunk sound and powered down and powered back up again. The next person that came in was able to use the machine no problem, at that point I knew my card was gone.

I was stressed, and I walked back to the hotel and told the guy at the desk what had happened. He said that I should go to the bank in the morning to try to get the card back, but in the meantime, he said, “I’m just getting off my shift why don’t we go out and smoke some shisha?” And he said he would pay.

The next thing I knew I was on the back of his tiny motorcycle flying through the streets of Cairo to the Khan el-Khalili area, where we went to a second-floor rooftop outdoor cafe, and before I knew it I had shisha and juice, and we were watching performers dance and twirl capes above their heads. It was good fun. And they took credit cards, so I paid for everything. (Not that it was much money.)

He dropped me off at the hotel. At this point it was about 2:30 in the morning and I really needed to get to sleep. My alarm was set to go off at 6:00 AM, as I had a lot to do the next day before I would leave for the airport. I fell asleep immediately.

I woke up not long after when the door to my small room flew open and there was a figure, a man, in the doorway. I didn’t even think. I’m not even sure if I was fully awake, I just jumped out of bed, shoved the guy back, and slammed the door in his face. I then opened the door, yelled “fuck you!” and then slammed the door in his face a second time. (I’m not sure that second door opening was really necessary, but I was angry.) I tried to go back to sleep but my heart was beating so fast, and my adrenaline was going, and it was a while before I could fall asleep again. I slept for maybe two hours total.

A New Day in Cairo

The next morning, the hotel apologized profusely and said they had made a mistake and thought the room was empty. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but nevertheless it was an upsetting disruption to my sleep. And that was the second thing that went wrong on this trip. Perhaps more importantly, this was my second night in a row I was not really sleeping.

After breakfast, I did as the hotel worker had suggested, and I went to the bank. His advice to me was to tell them about my card but not to remain calm. He said that I should appear panicked and that I should cry if I could and tell that I needed this card for my trip. I couldn’t bring myself to cry, but I did work myself up into a nice state of anxiety and told him the situation. After about half an hour I had my card back. So, the first problem was resolved thankfully.

With that done, I set out to explore Cairo. It would have been really nice to have visited the new museum but that was way too far away, over at the pyramids, and I didn’t want to spend that much time in traffic, so I just walked around downtown and went for some nice shisha and coffee, and went back to the Khan el-Khalili bazaar and wandered around there, having a cigar and a coffee, I visited a couple of mosques, and then went to the citadel for more mosques and a view over the city.

It was just a quick downtown sightseeing jaunt, but it was terrific. Cairo was wonderful. It didn’t feel quite as foreign and exotic is when I was there 29 years before. I suppose both I and the city have changed. But it had a good energy and lots of interesting things to see and do.

One thing that made it much easier is that rather than spending half my time haggling about taxi prices, I was able to cover long distances in an Uber. Some of the drivers will still try to negotiate a price with you in cash, but if you tell them that you were only paying through the app, that ends that conversation. It made things a lot easier.

Finally, after dinner, I went back to the airport, for a late-night flight to Asmara, Eritrea.

*views of Cairo and me at an outdoor shisha cafe*

Asia Vietnam Vietnam Laos trip 2024

Hanoi: Vintage Motorcycle Tour

On my second evening in Hanoi, I realized that I had done most of what I wanted to do but that I still had a half a day before I went to the airport the next day. So I looked into what sort of walking tours perhaps I could do. But I found something even better: a tour of Hanoi on a vintage motorbike. This was offered by Hanoi Backstreet Tours and I booked it immediately.

I was picked up at my hotel by a fellow riding a vintage-looking army motorcycle. We were joined by another two guides each with a guest on their motorcycles. A couple from Japan. And off we went. It was terrific. It took us through areas of the city that I had not visited and gave me some small photo opportunities. They also took us through tiny little back streets, that we skilfully wound through on the motorbikes. They took us to some interesting shops including one that made wedding cakes and another that made replica luxury goods out of paper for burning to achieve good luck in the afterlife. We went to a market and saw chickens and fish and other creatures. A lot of interesting historical details were shared.

We even left the city at one point and went across a bridge and saw some of the shantytowns down by the river.

While near the market, we passed a small square where young men were smoking big bamboo pipes. I had seen this already the day before in my walk around but I wasn’t sure what they were smoking in them. The guide explained that they were smoking tobacco, called thuoc lao. It’s not cigarette tobacco. It is closer to the sort of tobacco that you would use to roll a cigar, though it is not fermented in the same way. The pipe, made from bamboo and called a điếu cày, Is kind of like a water pipe. Of course I wanted to try it.

The guide spoke to one of the young men who agreed to let me try his pipe. He lit it for me, got it going, and then handed it to me. I placed my mouth over the end and inhaled deeply, taking in a lungful of the potent smoke. I am a daily cigar smoker but I have never smoked cigarettes, so inhaling is not a natural thing for me. I immediately started coughing and laughing at the same time, much to the amusement of the small crowd of young men that had gathered around to watch the idiot tourist try the giant pipe. Below is a still from a humiliating video of me trying the pipe. Still, it was a fun experience I’m glad that I tried it.

It all wound up with an excellent lunch. It was superb. We covered more ground on the motorcycles, and it was just fun.

Rather than having them drop me off at my hostel, I asked her to drop me off at the La Casa del Habano, that I had passed earlier. I had just enough time for a cigar. I went in and had a Quai d’Orsay in a very civilized environment before catching a Grab back to my hostel and a taxi to the airport. It was a terrific way to wind up my time in Southeast Asia on this trip.

My next trip would be to Eritrea and Djibouti, via Cairo.

Asia Vietnam Vietnam Laos trip 2024

Historic Hanoi

I flew to Hanoi from Luang Prabang, Laos. Really, it would have been cheaper and made more sense for me to fly back to Vancouver via Ho Chi Minh City, as that was where I had flown through on my way to Laos. But I hadn’t been to Hanoi, and this seemed like a good opportunity, so I booked the ticket.

Arrival

I arrived in Hanoi late on a Friday night. I had my e-visa and had paid a little extra to skip the queues so I could get to bed as soon as possible. I took a taxi from the airport to my hostel: Old Quarter View Hanoi Hostel, which was, of course, in the Old Quarter.

There was no question in my mind that I wanted to stay in the Old Quarter. It had all the historic neighbourhoods and markets, as well as lots of restaurants and cafes. What I didn’t appreciate, was how incredibly crowded it gets on the weekends. My taxi wasn’t able to take me right to my hostel and dropped off about four blocks away. I was irritable that he wouldn’t take me the rest of the way, but I understood once I saw the crowds. The entire neighbourhood of the Old Quarter was shoulder to shoulder with drinkers, diners, and drunks. They spilled out of the bars and restaurants on to tables on the street and then filling every footpath. It was loud and crowded, and honestly, annoying. I was tired and I had just gotten off a plane and just wanted to go to bed. I snaked my way through the raucous streets to the hostel.

The hostel was perfectly serviceable. I had booked a dorm room, which was a super bargain. ($15 a night CND.) If I was doing it again, I might have gotten myself a private room, only because a dorm in this neighbourhood means that your bunk mates are all people that are out drinking until the wee hours. When I woke the next morning I saw girls quite literally passed out in their clothes half on the bunks and half off in various states of disarray. I might be getting too old for this stuff, but I can’t resist a bargain.

Of course, I did go for a walk before bed and enjoyed a cigar.

Morning and Coffee

The next morning. I was up and out early and excited to explore the streets.

Hanoi, the Old Quarter anyway, is beautiful. Very inviting streets with a million cafes, and shops selling lanterns. Leafy trees, colourful rickshaws, and historical buildings. It’s delightful. I didn’t have much of a plan, but I decided to visit some temples and neighbourhoods, and stop for as many coffees as possible en route.

And I did just that. Hanoi is a coffee drinker’s dream. Even better than Ho Chi Minh City. There are charming and picturesque cafes serving everything from espressos to every conceivable iteration of Vietnamese coffee. I don’t typically like iced or sweet coffee or coffee with cream in it, but I put aside my predilections and I tried several unusual coffees including coconut and even the dreaded egg. None of them really taste like coffee to me. They all taste a bit like dessert, but the allure of a nice coffee on such a hot day was hard to resist.

Here are three of the best cafes I visited. There are so many more.

*Giao Mua Coffee* *for an espresso & Vietnamese iced coffee*

*Vi Anh Cafe for egg coffee and a small cigar*

*Loading T Cafe for an iced Saigon coffee*

Temples and Markets

I visited the Ngoc Son Temple, which had a moderate entrance fee (~$1.50 CDN), which was worth the price as it was quite beautiful and walking distance from where I was wandering anyway. It was set on a small island, accessible by the Huc Bridge.

I visited the market and eyed the exotic fruits and colourful vegetables. I stopped in at a cigar store and had a cigar with the owner and some of his friends. I sought out a street that had murals of historical Vietnam.

I also visited the amazing “Train Street,” but I have written about that in a separate post.

Getting Around

This was all on foot. It was an excellent city for walking, but it was very hot. So by the end of the day, I offered for a Grab back to my hostel. A Grab is like an Uber but, fantastically, it gives you the option of having a motorcycle pick you up. This is clearly the best option. They provide a helmet, and you get to feel like you’re being taken on a little tour of the city.

Cigars and Summing Up

I think I like Hanoi better than Ho Chi Minh City. And I really like Ho Chi Minh. Hanoi had a bustling energy. It is 8.8 million people. Plus, it has historic charm and interest going back centuries. There are slightly fewer cigar lounges, but still enough to keep me happy. Plus, I had no trouble finding bars and restaurants that would allow the smoking of cigars. This one was my favourite.

I had only a day and a half in Hanoi. I felt happy with what I was able to see in that time. One day of wandering, two nights of smoking and relaxation, and on the second morning before going to the airport in the afternoon, I did a classic motorcycle tour of the city, which I’ll write about separately. Had I more time in the city I would have done at least a day trip to Halong Bay, which is not far away. For this reason, I have a feeling that I will be back in Hanoi someday, but on this trip, Hanoi was my last stop and, although brief, it was satisfying.

(Previous Post: here. Next post: here)

Asia Vietnam Vietnam Laos trip 2024

Finding Train Street in Hanoi

The number one thing that I wanted to do in Hanoi (see my main post about Hanoi here), was visit “Train Street.” If you’re the sort of person who is reading this post, you probably already know what Train Street is, but just in case you don’t, it is a section of train tracks in the Old Quarter of Hanoi where trains pass through multiple times a day just inches from the businesses along the tracks. It has been this way for as there were businesses there, but has become kind of a phenomenon since Instagram where people can see the exciting videos of trains zipping by inches from packed cafes.

I don’t know when I became aware of Train Street but as soon as I did, I had to go. I love trains and I like weird things, so this seemed perfect for me. The difficulty is figuring out how to do it. I had an old Lonely Planet this showed me roughly where the Train Street access was, but it was an old book and since about 2019, the police have really clamped down on tourists visiting Train Street. I’m not aware of anyone actually being killed, but you could see that there’s a possibility if someone would not fall the rules. And there are stories of close calls, usually from tourists trying to take the perfect shot and waiting too long to leave the tracks. The other difficulty in visiting Train Street was figuring out when the trains pass and on which day. This is something that changes, so I scoured the Internet looking for a recent post from someone who had been and I just hoped that their information was accurate.

I walked along the train tracks by “224 Lê Duẩn Street” (this is the small street along the tracks; not the larger Lê Duẩn Street running parallel) until I found an access point up onto them. This was a part of the tracks where there were businesses only on one side of the tracks. I sat down and had a coffee trackside. But there were two problems: one there was a policeman who yelled at me anytime I attempted to take a picture of the train tracks; and two, the tracks only had businesses on one side, so it didn’t give that atmosphere that I was looking for. I decided to abandon my post and walk further down. (The header image on this post if of this side of the tracks.)

I did walk further down, and I found another access point, however when I tried to walk up the hill and across the tracks I was stopped by police officers. One woman grabbed my arm trying to pull me up onto the tracks to take me to her cafe, while the policeman grabbed my other arm and tried to pull me back down. I shook them off and yelled “get the fuck away from me” before walking away.

At this point, I was feeling dejected. Maybe it wasn’t possible to visit Train Street anymore. Or maybe the whole experience was just too unpleasant. I was walking along, and I turned a corner, and I saw what looked like a little repair shop, but I saw a picture of a train and an arrow and some little steps and I decided to follow it. I walked through the repair shop and up the stairs and found myself in a cafe along the train tracks at a perfect spot. It looked just like how I imagined with two-story rows of businesses on either side of the tracks just a foot or two away. And lots of hustle and bustle. This was near where “224 Lê Duẩn Street” meets “P. Khâm Thiên” street. Right about where the yellow star is on this map.

*map detail showing where i eventually and successfully accessed train street*

The proprietor of the cafe was happy for business, and I was happy to have found a good spot for the train. He also had a train schedule posted on the wall and I could see that I was only about 45 minutes away from the next passing. I sat down and ordered several coffees and enjoy this car. Other tourists came and sat at the tables, and we chatted a bit which was fun. Also fun was just watching all the people on the tracks posing for pictures, shopping for souvenirs, and enjoying the atmosphere. It felt very festive. If I had had to sit there for an hour or more waiting for the train, it wouldn’t have been a hardship.

At a certain point, a siren went off and people began herding the tourists off of the tracks. Everyone obeyed. Then we heard it coming. The train snaked around the corner and came close. I mean it really came close. It was less than a foot away from my head as it zoomed by. It was really cool. This was not one of these things that you do and you kind of think “OK well that’s something that I’ve done.” I loved this I thought it was exciting and different and while normally I would be irritated that there were so many tourists there, in this case I didn’t, it just added to the fun.

I actually ended up going back to Train Street (although a different quieter part of it) the next day as part of the motorcycle tour that I went on, but this time where I had to find it myself was much more fun.

So many of my very memorable travel experiences involve trains, whether it’s overnighting on former Soviet trains, or riding on top of the iron ore train in Mauritania, or smoking cigars with locals on an overnight train in Myanmar. There’s just something romantic and exciting about them. And so this was another experience to add to the list.

I’m not going to bother posting the train schedule, because I’m sure that changes. If you want to visit Train Street I think the best thing to do is find the access points on a map, but then try to find the most recent information that you can from social media or blogs about what time the trains go by. Obviously, I can’t speak to what the security situation will be. The police seemed pretty set on keeping tourists out, but the business owners keep finding ways to let them in. But I think it is definitely worth doing for as long as they allow it.

The next day, my final one in Hanoi, i would go on an excellent motorcycle tour.

Asia Laos Vietnam Laos trip 2024

At Peace in Luang Prabang

From the moment I arrived by train I was charmed by Luang Prabang, Laos. It is so pretty and green, with small, attractive buildings and gilded temples. Every road looked like a picture. I loved walking those streets and stopping into French bakeries, little shops selling handmade goods, and visiting temples.

I had been kind of templed-out in Vientiane, but here my curiosity and interest were renewed. The setting was nicer, but the temples were also a bit different. More Buddhas and some of the temples had fabulous and intricate inlaid design on the exterior.

There is not a lot to do in Luang Prabang unless you want to do yoga or cooking classes or some similar activity. I didn’t mind. I was happy to stroll around and take in the atmosphere. In the evening, I had dinner and cigars on the main drag.

It rained pretty much the entire time. Not a heavy rain, but a constant one. I didn’t mind that either. It only made everything seem more green and serene, and it didn’t make me feel guilty for sitting on patios.

Cigar smoking in Luang Prabang was perfectly acceptable. Not indoors, but all the patios were fine, though I was absolutely the only person smoking cigars and I felt a little weird having a cigar with my yogurt/chia seed bowl at the café of a yoga studio. There was this one cool and tiny bar (Artisan Bar), just hidden down a side street. The bar had an elegant art deco/Hollywood glam décor, extremely dim lighting, and excellent cocktails. The bartender told me that sometimes they let people smoke cigars in there, but not on the night I was there. (Too busy, he said.)

Day Trip to Kuang Si Falls

On my second day, I met up with Chains, whom I had met at the train station in Vientiane, and we went on a day trip to Kuang Si Falls that was organized by his hostel. Kuang Si Falls is waterfalls and a park about an hour outside of Luang Prabang. It was beautiful and then there was a gruelling hike up a million stairs up to a series of lookout platforms in the trees. It was worth the climb, looking out over the green valley.

I’m sure the views from the road were also beautiful, but I slept the whole time.

Back in Luang Prabang, I had a quiet night with a cigar and some tasty green dumplings.

On my third and final day, I got up early for monks and a hike.

Alms Giving: A Cautionary Tale

Every morning, around sunrise, the monks walk in a procession along the main roads in their saffron robes, with empty bowls in hand, to receive offerings of food, like sticky rice or oranges. Along the street people line up with their items to offer and put them in the bowls of the monks as they walk past. The whole thing is a very serene and magical scene to witness. It is utterly quiet – or rather, it should be.

Obviously it is something that tourists want to witness and photograph, and that is fine, but there are rules. Well-publicized rules. There are literally signs all over the city advising people to dress modestly, keep a distance from the monks, and be quiet. They also advise you not to follow the monks; just sit at a distance and observe and take (flash-less) photos. That’s not difficult, right? I got to Sakkaline Road at maybe 4:30am and sat on the opposite side of the street from the procession and observed and took photos from a distance. Not so for all visitors. Busloads of tourists arrived and swarmed the scene, sticking their cameras right in the monks’ faces, shouting, and running around. It was gross. But I had a few minutes of peace and quiet before the hoards stormed in. I probably could have had a calmer experience from a side street, but I wasn’t sure what the route was and didn’t want to miss it, so I picked a central spot.

Stairway to Heaven

I then hiked up Phousi Hill. It is a mountain in the town with stairs heading up to the top. The entrance is just across the main road from the National Museum. The views are great, but it is the hike is the best part. It is up about 300 stairs elaborately carved with serpents, and all along the climb are small temples, stupas, and golden Buddhas set into the rocks and trees. It is like ascending into the heavens. (You pay a very small entrance fee of about $2 half-way up.)

I visited the National Museum (fine but not great) and went to the market for breakfast where I had some thin, sweet, milky bean soup and coffee for breakfast. A final stroll through the streets and then it was time to say adieu to Laos.

Laos was great. I would love to see more of it, just as a would the other countries in Southeast Asia. Fortunately, I was about to see a little more of Vietnam, as I was flying from Luang Prabang to Hanoi.