Europe Archives - Page 6 of 14

Europe Sudan-South Sudan trip 2022 Turkey

24 hours in Istanbul

I was flying home from Juba, South Sudan, capping off my Sudan/South Sudan trip. It had been glorious. It had been exotic. It had been hot. So, on my way home, I was delighted to have a 24 hour layover in one of my favourite cities: Istanbul. Istanbul is great for a proper visit, but after that, layovers, from short to long, are excellent. Pop into the city, even for a few hours, smoke some shisha, get lost in the Bazaar, ride the ferry from Europe to Asia and back again…there are so many excellent options. I was glad to be back.

The thing that was different this time was that there was a new airport and the metro line connecting it to the city was not complete (update: the train is now running), so I had to take a taxi. It took longer than the train would have, but it was a nice drive with views I had never seen. Best of all, the driver and I smoked in the cab on the ride. How civilized. How wonderfully old fashioned.

I arrived in Istanbul just before sunset, to beautifully overcast and golden skies and flocks of seagulls cresting on the wind. The air felt blissful. I loved the heat of Sudan, but the cool, moist air of a November evening in Istanbul was welcome.

I ditched my backpack at a cheap, central, and unremarkable hotel and went out into the evening. I walked over to the square between the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sophia and took in the views. I didn’t go into the Blue Mosque this time but did go to the Aya Sophia. There was no queue and since I had last visited it has been changed from a paid entrance ‘museum’ to a free entrance mosque. Regardless of what they are calling it, it is one of the most beautiful interiors I have ever seen.

I walked around some more and had a feast of Turkish appetizers for dinner, along with some shisha, tucked in under a blanket on a patio.

In the morning, I had breakfast at the historic “Pudding Shop”. I had seen it many times but never gone in. At whatever ungodly hour it was that I was out on the hunt for coffee, it was the only place open. It has a fascinating history. Its nickname is the Pudding Shop, but is actually called the Lale Restaurant and was opened by two brothers in 1957. In the 60s it became popular for travelers, and was the meeting point for hippies and vagabonds on their routes east into Asia. It had a bulletin board for people looking for rides and it had a bohemian vibe apparently, with books and bands. It doesn’t have that vibe now, but is still comfortable, with good food and a Turkish diner vibe. Lots of news articles and photos to look at. It’s more of cultural/historical interest these days, but I would go back.

With a stomach full of coffee and lentil soup, I walked over to the Grand Bazaar for a wander, which is always a delight. I had a couple of Turkish coffees and looked around. After that I continued to wander, but was mindful of the time and traffic.

I got a taxi back to the airport with enough time to enjoy the lounge.

And so ended my trip to the Sudans and my 2022 travel year. It was a good one.

Europe Germany Riga Long Weekend

Munich Layover – Part Two

Six hours in Munich. That was my opportunity as I flew home from my long weekend in Latvia. Never one to leave a crumb of vacation on the table, I decided I would again head into the city, just as I had three days prior. This time, though, I was more efficient (and did not get lost looking for the entrance to the S-Bahn).

Getting out of the station at Marionplatz, this time I turned left instead of right and wandered down a big pedestrian street, popping into a café and a church (the Frauenkirche).

The boulevard was busy with leisure seekers, sipping coffee and shopping. Buskers staked out their places – my favourite being a young kid playing an upright piano with the skill of a trained classical composer. I watched him for some time and was dismayed by all the people who video recorded him and did not give him a cent. I over tipped him, which both compensated his talents and made me feel like a superior person in comparison to those who gave nothing. (I’m sure there are plenty of time I don’t give money, but this time I did.) Money well spent.

I popped into a bright yellow church: the Theatin Church of St. Cajetan (built in the late 1600s). I’ll pretty much poke my head into any old church. I generally know they will either be dull or beautiful and occasionally they will be jaw-droppingly opulent, like many of the orthodox churches in Russia. This was something else. While the outside was brightly hued the inside was a monochromatic pale grey. It was extremely decorative in its carved ornamentation, but every bit is it was this pale grey. It looked like someone just turned the color off and left it in monochrome, like an optical trick. I thought it was extraordinary.

*interior of the Theatin Church of St. Cajetan*

Feeling elevated by the street music and the architectural design I set off to see some visual arts at the Haus der Kunst, which was a pleasant walk through a park.

The Haus der Kunst was built by the Nazis to show its collection of dull, rural, Aryan art, but now features art that represents diverse groups and challenges. I hadn’t been there before, but picked it because it is fairly small, so it seemed perfect for my short stopover.

I don’t know what they normally show, but when I was there, they had all installations – light, sound, and fog. Many years ago when I first heard of a light or sound art installation, it thought it was stupid. Some kind of pretentious scam. I later realized they are legitimate and can be amazing. But when I heard of a fog installation, again, my first reaction was scepticism. “That sounds stupid,” I thought, as I entered a large, high-ceilinged room with a long pool of water down the centre and taking up most of the floor space. We all stood around, waiting, then there was an almost imperceptible sound. Was it a rumble or a tone? And then fog started to rise from one end of the pool and it rolled in a controlled way down the pool to the other end, filling the room with haze until the figures around me nearly disappeared. Subtle lighting gave everything a blue-green tint. It was eerie and beautiful and menacing. And then it was over. I was converted. I know it sounds stupid, but it was great. (I should say that the artist is Fujiko Nakaya from Japan and this is what she does.)

There were also excellent installations where record players on pedestals filled a room and randomly turned on when a shaft of light fell on them and each would play its record, each of which was a soundscape of a different city. Calls to prayer, traffic, overlapping conversations.

Another favourite was a room then enveloped the viewed in a swirl of sounds and words.

The experience of all of these things left me feeling full of emotion and conviction that art (be it music, writing, architecture, or even bloody fog) is the most important thing we do and makes the world a better place. I mean, I do feel this way generally, but sometimes i get kind of swept up in it all.

With my heart full and spirit uplifted, I made my way back to the train station and the airport and returned with plenty of time of time. I understand why one might not like to leave the airport with a six-hour layover, and this may seem obvious, but I am amazed at what one can do and experience in such a short time. It was a wonderful end to my already great Latvian long weekend and left me feeling satisfied. I would be happy to see more in Munich, but I can’t believe all I enjoyed in my two layovers.

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Riga: The Historic Centre and Beyond

I had the morning to myself on the second day and wasn’t quite sure what to do, but the decision was made for me a bit when I awoke to blue skies.

The previous day had been grey. Now, with this improved backdrop, Riga looked even more beautiful and so I walked around many of the same streets I had the day before and took new pictures. This included taking pictures of the famous ‘Three Brothers’.

The Three Brothers are three dwelling buildings built right next to each other, each built in a successive century (more or less) between 1490 and each built by men from the same family. (Not sure about the veracity of that latter claim, but that the story.) They are amongst the oldest in the city. The buildings are interesting and photogenic but I did note that while every picture I saw of them on Instagram depicted them as being technicolor, in reality their colors (yellow, green, and white) are very muted. They are very cute and a have a fairy tale quality I thought.

I walked over to the House of the Blackheads, which was originally built in the early 14^th C as a house for single men who were members of the Brotherhood of the Blackheads guild. It was entirely rebuilt after being destroyed in WWII. This is a fact that was a bit of a disappointment to learn. Like wandering the old town of Warsaw, for example, I am left thinking: this is beautiful and I am thankful to see it, but it’s just a copy. It could be Disneyland. It was open to the public and I went in. It is worth a visit but honestly the interior pales in comparison to the crazy beautiful exterior. And the history, which includes that it was the site for the first ever decorated Christmas tree in about 1510. There is a fact that I plan to pedantically pull out at some future time to the mild interest of my conversational companion.

I had a coffee and a snack and met up with my tour guide for the afternoon.

I had booked, the night before, a private tour of ‘alternative Riga’. There are loads of free walking tours of Riga, but I really wanted to get out of the city centre, and I didn’t feel like trudging along at a glacial pace with a bunch of strangers that I would judge harshly the moment any of them asked a stupid question. That’s how I felt on that day anyhow. So I booked a walking tour where I could have a guide all to myself and see what I wanted to. It was the best decision I made that weekend.

I booked it through E.A.T. Riga. My guide, Arturs, was great. We got along and I appreciated his knowledge and his sense of humour. He walked me out of the centre to the Jewish Ghetto area, telling me tales of Riga though the wars, highlighting the experiences of the Jewish community, immigrants, outcasts, political figures, and ne’er-do-wells. In doing this, we walked through neighbourhoods that were formerly sketchy but had recovered and were just becoming a bit cool, with great coffee shops and neighbourhood bars.

We visited a sort of artist hang out yard (sort of a hippy vibe), saw some graffiti, and an installation of a giant fox, meant to draw attention to the cruelty of the fur industry.

We wrapped it up by having a bite to eat in a little backyard restaurant in a mostly residential neighbourhood. A few of Arturs’ friends came by and joined us and we hung out for a while. It was great. Not planned, and probably my favour thing I did in Riga.

We parted ways and I walked back to the old city, taking a detour to visit this excellent anti-Vladimir Putin banner that as hung on a museum directly facing the Russian Embassy. I spent the evening walking around, soaking up the evening atmosphere, and looking for a bookstore/bar that I never found.

Riga was great. I really liked it and felt comfortable there. I left really early the next morning and flew back to Vancouver via Munich again, where I enjoyed an excellent layover in the city. Of all of these international long weekends I have done from Vancouver (not including those in the States), Riga ranks highly. Maybe top three. Mexico City is still my favourite, I think. If money was no object, I think I would visit a new city every long weekend. More to come in the future.

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Latvia Long Weekend – Riga day one

I landed in Riga, Latvia very late. Past midnight. I would get just a few hours of sleep before getting up early to see the city. No time for sleeping in or having leisurely breakfasts. I had flown to Riga for a long weekend. From Vancouver. Not the sort of trip with time for relaxation built in.

As I said in my previous post, I didn’t know much about Latvia. Riga just seemed like a nice place to spend two and half days, the architecture looked pretty, and, well, what a great opportunity to learn something about a place I knew little about.

I took a taxi from the airport to the old town centre, to my hostel, the Blue Bird Hostel. I let myself in with a key code and snuggled into my bunk bed, careful not to wake my sleeping roommates.

In the morning, I went outside and began to explore.

Riga’s old city centre is stunning. So are the centres of many European capitals, but this one really stands out. Gracefully curving streets lined with colorful buildings, often adorned with decorative paintings or whimsical flourishes. There is, for example, a building that is yellow with turrets and at the top of each is a black cat, arching its back with hostility (a sort of ‘fuck you’ to a particular guild that had denied entry to the owner of the building.). Another has a statue of a German Shepherd standing guard over the roof.

The place is a delight and a dream to take pictures of. And because it is touristy, you don’t feel weird taking pictures of streets and shops and whatnot, the way I sometimes do when I am the only tourist around and everyone else is just trying to get on with their lives.

There are some museums and galleries here and there, but when I visited, all but one was closed for refurbishment or covid. No matter: the streets were the main attraction.

I stopped for coffees at cute little cafes and went in search of public art, including a statue of a ghost that, inexplicably, made me uneasy even though it was, you know, a statue. There were tourists wandering about doing a lot of the same things that I was, but the town was far from over run.

Getting outside of the historic centre, the city felt less precious, but the architecture was still awesome. Riga is known for having an impressive display of art nouveau buildings. They are not difficult to find. There are a few streets that are lined, end to end, with these gorgeous buildings. Colorful and decorated with white filigree, often depicting ancient legends, or incorporating imagery like dragons, flowers, and sexy naked people. One of my favorite details were large faces staring out, open mouthed in shock or horror.

*Buildings on and around Alberta Street*

I do feel a teensy bit bad for the people who live in the buildings on Alberta Street, where there must just be an endless parade of tourists snapping selfies in front of the striking structures. (But that concern did not stop me from taking dozens of pictures.)

When you get away from these streets and before plunging back into the confection of the old centre, there are more ordinary streets, but charming in their own right. Modest but appealing old two-level wooden buildings, serious coffee roasters, and graffiti.

I had a coffee at the excellent Rocket Bean Roastery and then decided to seek out the Oak Lounge, a cigar lounge, for a break. (I had been walking for hours without rest.) To my delight, the cigar lounge was across the street. Sweet serendipity. I bought a Bolivar from the modest but reasonably priced selection and settled in with a tea and my cigar. It was early and was quiet. I chatted a bit with a local guy until his friend came to join him. Otherwise, is just smoked and planned my next moves.

I spent the rest of that day continuing to walk around. I walked over through a park lining the Daugava river, visited a grand, orthodox cathedral, and then over to the Riga Cental Market.

The market visit was good. They always are, but this had the bonus of being housed in WWI zeppelin hangars. Yeah. It was cool. I spent time wandering amongst the pickled vegetables and dumplings, fruits, and honey, trying to imagine dirigibles filling the spaces, which then led to me thinking about air ships generally and trying to remember the difference between a dirigible, a blimp, and a zeppelin. (This is, incidentally, something I look up regularly and never seem to remember.)

The area around the market was just a little bit seedy and busy, which was a great antidote to the beauty of the old centre.

Riga was beautiful and I loved it, but you really can see the old city in a half to a full a day. I loved the wandering, but it was not a big area. With the museums closed, before I was finished my first day, I was starting to feel like it was out of things to do, in that area anyway. So I planned a walking tour of ‘alternative Riga’ for the next day.

I had a mediocre meal on an excellent patio before wandering over to the Grand Hotel Kempinski, to enjoy their very fancy cigar lounge. The cigar prices were insane, so I smoked a cigar I brought with me (a Quai d’Orsay) and had a fancy tea service. In the lounge I had a most pleasant conversation with a Norwegian accountant in town for a corporate weekend and nursing a hangover from the previous night’s festivities (strip clubs).

After that I went and had a martini under an umbrella on a patio (it was raining) where I had yet another cigar while chatting with vacationing and moderately intoxicated Brits and Russians.

I had hoped maybe to find someone from my hostel to hang out with, but the people I encountered there were fairly dull and seemed to spend the whole day sleeping and watching Netflix. Dull.

It was a perfectly pleasant Riga day. I was completely satisfied with my first day and looking forward to more.

Europe Germany Riga Long Weekend

Munich Layover Part One

Latvia for a long weekend in May

It was the May long weekend, and I had an extra day off. There was no question that I was going somewhere, but where was the question. For the May four-day weekend in April I went to Malta, which meant that, for variety, I should have gone somewhere other than Europe, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about Latvia. I don’t even know what I was thinking except that 1) the only Baltic country I had been to was Estonia (and that was years ago) and 2) they have incredible art nouveau architecture in Riga. The tipping point in favour of going was when I saw that I could spend a long layover in Munich on either end of the trip, and I hadn’t been to Munich. Flying to Riga for a long weekend from Vancouver isn’t exactly a budget fight for a long weekend, but not terrible and being in Riga is a bargain, so I booked the flight.

Layover in Munich

I was excited to have a layover in Munich – two layovers actually. Six hours each. Long enough to see something of the city. I arrived at about 1:00 pm and power walked my way through the airport, through immigration, where the officer told me, looking through my nearly full passport “you travel too much”, and to the S-Bahn station. (As an aside, this was the final trip that I took with that passport, as it was full – 6 years into its 10-year lifespan. I wear that as a badge of honour.)

The S-1 and the S-8 both go to the city centre of Munich and come every 10 minutes or so. The ride takes about 40 minutes. To save time, I had pre-purchased my train ticket online. (This was not really necessary. I could have bought it from a machine easily, but like I said, it was a 6-hour layover. Every minute counts.)

The Marienplaz Station is the one right in the centre of the old town and coming up the escalator from the station into the sunlight, was a delight. Germany! I was immediately surrounded by beautiful old buildings, street musicians, and throngs of people. It was a hot spring day and even if all I had had time for was a coffee in the square, that would have been satisfying. But I had time for a bit more.

I had done a bit of map review before my flight, so I had a rough plan about where I wanted to walk. I didn’t stray too far from the main square, gawking at the Neues Rathaus (the new town hall) and Alte Rathaus (the old town hall) before walking around the food stalls of the Viktualienmarkt, picking up a perfect sandwich to munch on.

I didn’t linger anywhere too long, but enjoyed wandering around the area, having a coffee, buying a cigar at a little shop, enjoying the architecture, and poking my head into shops and churches.

With a 6-hour layover, I comfortably had 3 hours in the city, so was never totally relaxed. My pace was brisk and I checked the time a lot, but I had a good time and made mental notes (also some actual notes) about what I would do when I returned in 3 days’ time.

I took the train back to the airport where, thankfully, there were no extraordinary queues, and was back in time to duck into a lounge at the airport before boarding my flight to Riga. Next stop: Latvia.

Europe Malta

Easter in Malta

They take Easter seriously in Malta. The population is about 90% Catholic and grand churches are ubiquitous. People actually seem to practice their religion – or at least the holidays. I thought it would be interesting to visit on Easter weekend and take in the celebrations. And it was, although visiting that weekend means a lot of things are closed on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Let me be clear that I am an atheist, but I love visiting religious sites and seeing people in prayer or religious ritual. I try to blend in, but I always feel like my heathen status is apparent. I was also keenly aware of the fact that I had a fresh tattoo of the devil on my left forearm. Thankfully it was long-sleeves weather.

I had arrived on the afternoon of Good Friday. On that day in Valletta there are processions through the city with Christ on the cross carried aloft. Things are closed and there is a solemn air. I missed the processions but caught enough of the solemnity.

On Easter Sunday in Valletta – and in the other cities in Malta – there is a festive atmosphere as processions proclaiming Christ reborn happen. There are parades with statues of Christ risen carried through the streets and then people run through the city carrying the Christ statues. I had to see that.

The problem is, it is very difficult to get any information about when these processions start. I thought it might be in the morning, so I went out early, walking around and luring around various churches and squares, drinking coffees. The day was sunny, and I was happy to hang around, even if I had seen most of the sights the previous day.

One thing I hadn’t yet seen was the interior of Saint John’s Co-Cathedral, a massive church in the centre. I got there just before it opened and there was already a big queue (not sure if that is an Easter thing or a regular thing). The queue moved fast though, and I was led into the crowded, but ornate interior. It was worth the wait.

Saint John’s Co-Cathedral (Kon-Katidral ta’ San Ġwann in Maltese) is a church built in the 1570s. It has a relatively simple exterior and a glorious, Baroque interior. Every inch is covered in glided design and ornamentation. Some of the chapels have paintings by Caravaggio and there is a small but lovely crypt. Definitely worth visiting, even if if i had to elbow my way past the crowds.

I poked around various churches and caught a bit of an Ethiopian service where people were dressed like the pilgrims I had seen in Lalibela, Ethiopia. I watched through the door of an orthodox service and caught a bit of a Catholic one.

As it turned out the processions started in the afternoon. I found the church where people and marching band members were congregating, and I waited. Finally, a palanquin with a huge statue of Christ was brought out of the Church by a group of young men in white robes who carried it on their shoulders. And it began.

The procession was headed by a series of…religious guys. I want to say they were priests, but I feel like they had higher titles, but I don’t really know. They were dressed in fancy robes and headdresses, some carrying ornate staffs, some swinging thuribles burning incense. One guy was dressed in red robes with a comical grey wig. I have no idea who he was, but he seemed important, even if he looked silly. Following the statue was a marching band and then hundreds of people.

They paraded through the city. I followed along and sometimes got ahead of it to take pictures. It ended at Saint John’s Co-Cathedral, where Christ was taken inside and then brought out again as bells rang. After that, the running with Christ started.

It was an interesting spectacle.

After all that was done, I wandered around a bit more as it got dark and then settled in for a late dinner of pasta, a perfect negroni, and a cigar on a quiet street where jazz was playing. It was cold, but I didn’t mind.

My time in Malta was at an end, as I flew home in the morning. I liked Valletta. It didn’t satisfy that part of my that craves adventure, but it was beautiful, pleasant, and I did feel like participating in the Easter festivities gave it a special flavour, even for a heathen like me.

Europe Malta

Malta Long Weekend

The Plan

I had an extra day off work on Easter weekend, which gave me four clear days off. I canvassed my list of possible international trip ideas for a four day weekend and decided on Malta. It looked lovely, it is tiny, and it isn’t packed with too many sights for a couple of days. Plus, it was Easter weekend, which meant processions and ceremony. Done. I booked the flight.

An overnight trip from Vancouver to Frankfurt, a short connection, and a flight to Valletta. I left Thursday after work and was in a taxi heading to my accommodations on Friday afternoon. Like magic.

Arrival in Valletta

Malta is a couple of small islands in the Mediterranean, just south of Sicily. It is a country. A beautiful island micro country, like a tiny jewel in a magnificent setting. A few fun facts about Malta: they speak English by and large but they have their own language which is Maltese, which seems like is a mix of Italian and Arabic, but then there are unique letters like an H with an extra line through it. Interesting.

Malta is immediately impressive. In that first taxi ride, the sun was up and it was stunning to see that light reflecting off of the sand coloured buildings and churches that lined the hilly streets, which led to the sea in every direction. Domed churches, clusters of cemeteries red, blue and green wooden balconies — all lovely.

I stayed at what called itself a hotel but was really more of an Airbnb in that I let myself in with a key pad and never saw anyone. Not my favourite, but the hostels were not in central Valletta and the hotels that were, were expensive. This place was fine. Not cheap, but about as good as can be expected for a destination like this. I was happy enough.

On that first day I did what I always do: I walked. I walked fairly aimlessly to get my bearings and see what there was to see. Valletta was even better on foot than it was in a taxi. So many narrow streets with tremendous views, beautiful architecture, and inviting cafes and bistros.

It was a bit cold when the sun went down but I found a restaurant with some heaters on its patio and I had dinner, a cigar, and a martini. It was a great introduction to the city.

Valletta Day Two

This is normally the part where I would break to a new blog post for day two, but, I don’t have that much to say, so I’ll carry on. Here’s the thing, Valletta IS beautiful and it IS a great choice for a weekend break, but two and a half days there felt long. Valletta is small and easy to walk and see in a day (a busy day). I would have spent more time in galleries and museums, but many of them were closed; some due to renovations or maybe covid, but almost everything was closed on Easter Sunday. So mostly, I walked. I explored the narrow streets, enjoyed the architecture new and old, visited the library, MUZA (the National Museum of Fine Arts), and the 17th C historic house of Casa Rocca Piccola.

When I needed a rest, I stopped for a coffee and a small cigar. (Weirdly, there are no cigar lounges in Valletta, but smoking outdoors is fine, if a bit chilly in April. I SAW “weirdly” because Valletta seems quite posh and classic and it seems like it should have dark wood panelled cigar rooms filled with posh men in leather chairs. But it doesn’t — or maybe it does but they are so posh that they are off limits to me.)

I visited the Upper Gardens, which, as gardens are fine, but the impressive thing is they have the most incredible views of the water, the rooftops, and of the neighbouring islands. Cannons line the edges, facing the sea.

From the gardens I took the outdoor elevator, running parallel to a cliff, down to the lower part of the city and got on a small ferry boat. Tiny things, they only hold about six passengers and look a little like gondolas. The ride across to the “Three Cities” is cheap and pleasant and, if you take the crossing on a super windy day, as I did, it is a little exciting. The boatman did not share my enthusiasm for the wind and waves.

Taking the boat across to explore the other side is reason enough, but I had a more specific purpose. The Fort of Saint Angelo. It is open to the public and is fine for a visit, if not very interesting, but what I wanted to see was the visit to the upper fort.

The upper fort of Saint Angelo is technically, kind of, it’s own sovereign state. It isn’t one of the 193 universally recognized countries on the UN list, but it is recognized by the UN as being sovereign. It is the territory of the Sovereign Military Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, of Rhodes and of Malta (or the Sovereign Military Order of Malta for short.) It has no land per se, but has this space in Malta and some in Rome. The Order has relationships with and is recognized by over 100 countries and had its own stamps and I have read that it also has passports and currency but I’m not sure about that.

So will I add it on to my list of countries visited? No. But it is pretty cool, like visiting Transnistria or the Vatican or Christiania. I love these geographical/political rebels.

I expected some kind of fan fare, but sadly I just stepped across the threshold of a black gate, under a seal, past a sign, and I was in.

There wasn’t too much to see on the other side. I had hoped for cloaked figures in the shadows at least. But I walked around and took pictures and then when I was satisfied I left and bloated back to Valletta.

The evening was an excellent meal and a negroni with a couple of cigars.

Reflections

It was all lovely and pleasant and pretty…and I am happy I went … but it wasn’t super exciting. I think Malta is one of those places where it might be nice to be there with a significant other (something I am sure I will never have or do); I say this because Valletta is just so romantic — romantic and a teensy bit dull — so I could imagine being there with someone with whole you want to linger over meals or glasses or wine with. Or maybe it is better for people who want to relax more than I do. Plus, being that Valletta is decidedly not a backpacker crowd, I had trouble meeting people. It seemed like everyone else was there for their own family or romantic weekend so people didn’t seem so open to chatting up weird Canadian cigar smoking solo travel women. Fair enough.

I don’t want to dissuade anyone from going to Malta; it is gorgeous and unique and historically interesting, and romantic. It’s just that for me, travelling the way I do, a day and a half was fine and I could have done with some (mis)adventure.

The next day, were it not Easter Sunday, I would have ventured to the ancient temple of the Hypogeum, but it was closed for the holiday and I really wanted to see the Easter Sunday festivities in Valletta. That I will save for another post.

Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 Serbia

One Night in Belgrade

I hadn’t planned to come to Belgrade. Not on this trip anyway. My arrival was the result of a flight cancellation. A setback turned serendipity when I had to look for an alternate flight from Tirana back to Vancouver. What I found was a flight to Belgrade and a one-night stay. Belgrade and Serbia as a whole clearly deserve more time, but I was determined to make the most of what I had.

My flight touched down on time. I grabbed my carryon bag and powerwalked to immigration where a dour-faced man stamped my passport without question. Without eye contact. From there to a taxi to my accommodations. A “hostel” that was really more of an Airbnb. The location was perfect, and the price was right. I’m not a fan of apartment rentals, but so be it. As I arrived the sun was about to set so I didn’t have time to waste, which made it all the more frustrating when I arrived and there was no one there to meet me with the keys. I loitered for 30 minutes in the dark hallway of what felt like an abandoned building before an apologetic man in a bathrobe showed up to let me in and show me what was what in broken English.

Freedom!

I went out onto the street. The sun had just set. No matter. I walked over to a main square in front of an opera house where there was a puzzling Christmas market. I say “puzzling” because it was late February. But there it was: Christmas trees, wooden stall decorated with candy canes, mulled wine, huge gift decorations, holiday music, and one Santa wandering around. Had I time travelled ever so slightly? I couldn’t get any official answers. The best I could figure out was that because tax dollars pay for the Christmas stuff, the people want to get their money’s worth.

At this point I should probably say that all of my photos of Belgrade suck. They are all in the dark and most of them are slightly blurry. I don’t know if this is because I was in a rush or because it was cold or what, but they are all lousy. At least I can’t be accused of photoshopping to artificial perfection.

From there I went on a walk that I had sort of half mapped out on the plane. I knew it would be evening, so some things would be off limits, but I figured I could still visit churches and loop around past some impressive buildings. And so I did.

The churches were excellent. Warm and glowing and mercifully open, so I could wander in and appreciate the décor whilst warming up a bit.

My favorite was the small church just next to the enormous Church of Saint Sava (not sure of the name), which was just covered in bright, religious murals.

The streets were decently busy, but being that it was chilly, I wasn’t inclined to sit outside, so I mostly kept moving.

I popped into a little bar, just down from Saint Sava. A cozy, tiny spot with lots of cushions and jazz music playing. I had a drink and…smoked a small cigar. That’s right, in Belgrade smoking indoors is allowed – maybe even encouraged. What a treat.

I wandered around a bit more and found my way over to a busy pedestrian thoroughfare with lots of stores (mostly closed by that time) and lots of restaurants. I settled on one that looked lively and had something vegetarian on the menu (lots of other places didn’t). It was jovial and smoky and … still sporting its Christmas decorations. A fine place to pass some time.

And that’s basically what I did. I walked around some more until I acknowledged that I should get some sleep before I had to return to the airport. 3 hours sleep to be exact. It was a quick stop in Serbia, but I liked what I saw and hope to return.

Oh, I did pop into one more place: a record store/bar, Leila Records, where I had a third small cigar and an espresso martini.

And so put an end to a trip that took me from Iraqi Kurdistan to Albania, North Macedonia, driving through Kosovo and spending a night in Serbia. Action packed. (Post Script: I returned home without a next trip planned, but as it would later turn out, in a few weeks’ time I was off to Guatemala. 2022 was off to a great start.)

Albania Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

Museum Hopping in Tirana, Albania

Back from my long day trip to North Macedonia, I had about a day and a half left in Tirana.

I think that two days in Tirana is ok, but a bit tight if you want to go to museums and galleries, which I did. What this meant was that on my second day in Tirana, I didn’t have time to lose. My alarm went off early. (Yes, I set an alarm on vacation. I don’t travel half way around the world to sleep.)

I left the Tirana Backpackers Hostel and set off. First thing had to be first however, and I went to get the requisite covid PCR from a place that looked more like a cosmetic surgery office or a Kiehl’s store, with a gaggle of young looking, beautiful women in short dresses and white lab coats. I would get the results later. Negative.

I started off at a cafe. Fuelled by espresso I made a bunch of stops. I’m not going to recount all the museums I went to in detail and some of the ones I didn’t go to I missed because they were closed. Tirana has lots; I picked from what was available.

National Museum: interesting to get some insight into Albanian history. In poor repair and scruffy, but worth visiting. Educational and I felt like they needed the money.

Bunk Art 2: There are two Bunk Art museums. One in Tirana’s centre and one not. Bunk Art 2 is the further out one. I look an easy bus ride, which was fun in its own right. Bunk Art 2 is excellent. A great history lesson about the long reign of Enver Hoxha and his brutality and paranoia, the latter of which led him to build underground bunker tunnels all over the country – 173,371 to be precise, built obsessively and to Albania’s financial detriment. (Let that sink in: 173,371 underground bunkers in a country slightly smaller than the US state of Maryland.) Bunk Art 2 is a museum built into one of these huge bunkers, very far underground. It is super interesting and also an experience, given that it is a bit claustrophobic and creates atmosphere with music and sounds throughout its rooms and tunnels, but stops short of being too theatrical. Definitely worth a visit.

Bunk Art 1: Honestly, Bunk Art 1 was a bit anticlimactic after Bunk Art 2. It is more of the same, but smaller. You can’t beat the location though and if you buy a ticket for Bunk Art 2 No.1 is included.

*cold war bunker and a pretty pink building*

The House of Leaves: You think I would have been tired at this point by learning about Hoxha’s dictatorship and his tools of surveillance and torture, but I wasn’t. The House of Leaves is a former centre for surveillance and investigation turned museum. Really creepy and interesting. Lots of information and artifacts about secret bugs and cameras, prison and brutality. There is a list posted of favourite torture methods of the regime. I’m still thinking about that.

To cleanse myself of the historical horrors, I walked in the sunshine over to an outdoor food market area and sniffed my way around various treats.

I went for a long walk to nowhere in particular and went for dinner and a cigar at this small outdoor area of international restaurants and cafes.

I had planned to finish the day at Perla Tattoo & Bar for some live music but it was having some guy’s birthday party that night (as best as I understood). It was just as well. I was exhausted. I went back to the hostel and hung out in the chilly courtyard.

The Next Day

I was flying out the next afternoon, which gave me the morning. I decided to take a leisurely approach. I had breakfast at the at the café at the Opera house building on the square. I had this very tasty Albanian breakfast dish. A kind of a savory porridge made from a grain and topped with white cheese and crunchy bread.

I had a cigar and walked next door to the bookstore, where there is a good selection of English books. I bought a couple of novellas by celebrated Albanian author Ismail Kadare.

I visited Et`hem Bey Mosque (the mosque on the square), which is uncharacteristically painted with scenes of fruit, trees, and scenery.

*buskers (and a dancer!) outside the mosque.*

I then went walking in search of street art murals. Tirana has a lot, but they are scattered around. I found some information online and planned a walking route that would take me to some of them and down some different streets. I stopped for coffee.

It was a pleasant way to spend the first half of the day.

I left Tirana feeling like I had done it justice in the time I had. Had my itinerary played out as I planned, I would have spent another 24 hours there, but due to a change of an Albania Air flight, I was instead flying to Belgrade, Serbia.

Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 North Macedonia

Wandering North Macedonia

Roadtrip!

I couldn’t resist the Wandering North/North Macedonia mashup for the title of this post, but I really wasn’t wandering North Macedonia; it was a strategic strike. I didn’t see myself doing a proper trip to North Macedonia, but a day trip from Tirana seemed perfect. I looked at options to get from Tirana to Skopje (the capital of North Macedonia) by bus and regular taxis and it is do-able but seemed like doing it in a day might be an unwelcome challenge, so I looked for a guide to take me on the day trip. I am glad I did. I got see everything I wanted to in a single day and got loads of useful information about the area.

The tour I booked was through “Go As Local“. It wasn’t cheap as a solo traveler, but it was good value. I was picked up early in the morning by colleagues and buddies Andi and Skerdi. They were delightful. They gave me lots of good historical and present-day information and answered all my questions. As a bonus, they are really great company and quite funny. They get along and have a good vibe between them that was enjoyable. They were good companions for what was a long day.

Just a bit of History

If you haven’t been keeping up with the Balkans, here’s the deal with North Macedonia (big picture only). In the 20^th century it was ruled by Bulgaria and Serbia, then became part of communist Yugoslavia. After the Soviet Union fell, it became Macedonia. The problem is, according to Greece, ‘Macedonia’ is a region in Greece and they demanded a name change to the new nation. Macedonia relented and in 2018 Macedonia became North Macedonia. In the 21^st century there have been disputes with Albanian insurgents in Macedonia seeking independence, but that seems to be resolved.

Macedonia is mostly Eastern Orthodox, with about a quarter of the population being Muslim. They speak Macedonian, which in written in Cyrillic. They have beautiful currency (the Dener).

It was a nice drive. Rolling green hills, picturesque towns, the hillside dotted with mosques.

It wasn’t a long trip from Tirana to our first stop: Ohrid.

Ohrid, North Macedonia

Ohrid is notable for being beautiful and, at one time, although a small city (or large town) it had 365 churches. One for each day of the year. I guess they just took a day off each leap year. Most of the churches are long gone, but there are some, the most notable of which is an orthodox church sitting above Lake Orhrid. We walked up a hill though streets of houses to a picturesque fort at the top, Macedonia’s super cool flag flying from top.

(I do really like their flag. A yellow circle with bright, thick yellow rays on a bright red background. It is so bold. It looks like what you might see in a comic book when someone gets karate chopped or takes a kick to the head.)

Anyway, we walked up to the fort, then through the trees, down past the church, which looked stunning over the sparkling lake, then down along a boardwalk on the edge of the lake, past wooden boats and charmingly rustic waterfront dwellings.

It is lovely. That said, I really didn’t need to spend more time there. Sure, I could imagine having a meal and a cigar at one of the outdoor, lakeside restaurants, maybe even spending a night, but I wouldn’t necessarily have seen more; only relaxed. So I prefer the way things actually transpired, which is that we sped off to Skopje.

Skopje, North Macedonia

While Ohrid is an easy day trip from Tirana, Skopje is pretty far. This leg of the journey was less picturesque, but still pleasant. I was looking forward to Skopje because, well, it looked weird. And I like weird. As it turned out all of Skopje is not weird. Much of it is normal and nice, but the part that is weird did not disappoint.

So, in 1963 a huge earthquake destroyed much of the city centre. Many years later the government undertook a project called “Skopje 2014” which was designed to give Skopje an identity, celebrate famous Macedonians (like Alexander the Great and Mother Theresa), and attract visitors.

The result is that the centre looks artificial and haphazard and like it is trying too hard to look classic and refined. Some people have compared it to Las Vegas, which is apt. Like Caesar’s Palace or the Venetian, it’s a grand and a bit tacky. It also feels a bit like a person with poor taste won the lottery and bought every ornate and fancy object they could in an effort to show off their wealth and new class.

The centre of Skopje has, on one side of a small river, a row of gleaming white neo classical / baroque buildings, each with rows of famous (?) historic figures in front. (As I understand it, these buildings are very poorly constructed and are already falling into disrepair. But, man, are they white.) There are foot bridges across the small river. Each bridge is crammed with statues of important persons. On either side of the river there are squares with HUGE statues. Like Luxor huge. Genghis Khan huge. And there are all the images you would expect from classical sculpture, but mashed up in jarring way. There are horses, lions, fountains, thrones, groups of men, solitary men, women in flowing robes, etc. And everything is just sort of plunked down, seemingly at random. It is a lot to take in.

If the goal was to connect Macedonia with important historical figures or make its history more important or to have people take it more seriously, I don’t think it was 100% successful. But if the goal was to increase tourism, I think it is a win for the diminutive nation. Instagram has tons of photos from curious travellers who seem to have been in Skopje to gawk at the weird, big statues. And part of the reason I wanted to visit was to seek the spectacle.

But there is more to Skopje than that. I really liked the area around the hammam, the Old Bazaar area, which was a pedestrian area of gently curving streets of one to two story buildings with rows of shops and some attractive neighbourhood cafes. It has a pleasant feel, even if I did get the sense that the majority of the people there were tourists.

Andi, Skerdi, and I enjoyed a coffee (and I had a small cigar) and then the three of us went for dinner in an old house serving traditional Macedonian food.

Dinner was good and it was a nice end to a great day.

Kosovo…sort of

Except it wasn’t quite the end. We still had the long drive back to Tirana, but (bonus!) we drove back through Kosovo! We went through border patrol and my passport was stamped and everything. I was delighted to be in a new country.

Did I see much of Kosovo? No. I still would like to visit Pristina and I am not writing it off as ‘done’, but I am counting it. We stopped, fueled the car, bought drinks and a bite to eat. It’s something. (I’ve been back and forth with myself on this, but I’ve decided I am counting it – and I will return.)

By the time I got back to the hostel, it was late. I think it was a 14 hour day, but well worth it. The Balkans area great in several regards, not the least of which is that the counties are tiny and crammed in together. The fact that you can visit three countries in a day is astounding. If I drove for 14 hours in Canada, I would still be in Canada.

I went to sleep as soon as possible. I had only one full day left in Tirana and I had a lot of ground to cover.

Tag: Europe