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Europe Norway Oslo weekend 2023

One Day in Oslo

I had planned to go to Oslo for Easter weekend from Vancouver. I have a recent history of travelling abroad for four day long weekends from Vancouver. I can travel to Europe over a four day long weekend and get two to three days in a city. Perfect for a city break. I’ve done this in Valetta, Riga, Sophia, and Copenhagen in Europe; and Panama City, San Salvador, Mexico City, and Playa Del Carmen in North America. Oslo seemed like a great place to spend the weekend. Subtracting the flight time, I would have two and a half days in Oslo. Great…except, something came up at work, and a couple of days before I left I discovered I would have to be at work a day early. I could have cancelled my trip, but I was so excited to go, that I thought, “Why not?” It seemed like a challenge. Would I enjoy a trip that was so far for such a short time? So I flew to Oslo (via London), spent one day in Oslo, and flew back to Vancouver. And it was great.

I had a very pleasant, short layover in London on the way there and got out of the airport for a few hours to see ‘Little Venice‘ and then I took a short flight to Norway and landed in Oslo just after midnight.

Norway Flag and partial map

Norway and Oslo are not ‘off the beaten path’, but for those of you who are cartographically challenged, Norway is the first on the far left of the vertical triad of Norway, Sweden, and Finland and Oslo is down near the bottom. It is famous for its fjords, stunning arctic landscapes in the North, trolls, and concept of Koselig (effectively the concept of coziness and warmth in a social and natural setting). Did I experience any of these things? No! But I did have a great day in Oslo, and I look forward to returning to Norway to see more.

*I hardly used any cash in Oslo, which is a shame, because how cute are these Kroner?*

On to the day…

Landing in Oslo

I arrived so late on Friday night that it was just after midnight and, hence, Saturday morning. I would be leaving at 5am Sunday morning. I walked up to the immigration guy in his booth at the airport and expected he would stamp me in without question, as most countries in Europe do; but he did have questions.

“What is the purpose of your trip?” He asked.

“Tourism,” I responded.

“How long will you stay?” He asked without looking at me.

“I leave tomorrow morning,” I replied.

He looked at me. “You are coming for only one day?”

“Yes. It was supposed to be longer, but I have to be at work. I thought I would come anyway.”

“You live in London?” He inquired.

“No. Vancouver. Canada.”

At this point, he put my passport down and sat upright. He had several more questions, but I explained to him that this is the kind of crazy travel that I do and, finally, I heard the ker-chunk of the passport stamp, and he said in a deadpan delivery, “Enjoy your day in Oslo.”

Getting in as late as I did, the train was no longer running, and I had to take a taxi to my hostel. It wasn’t $100 CDN, but it was close. (I was supposed to have arrived earlier but my flight out of London was delayed. If you are going to Oslo, try to arrive at an hour when public transport is still possible.)

I stayed at the K7 hostel, which seemed like the best budget option in the centre. I paid for a private room over a dorm though, which I was glad about, given how later I was arriving and how early I would wake up. By the time I got to sleep it was 2am. I set my alarm for 5:00am.

K7 Hostel

Early Morning at the Opera House

I woke up after three hours sleep questioning my life choices, made myself a coffee in the hostel kitchen, and headed out for a walk.

*“The Tiger” statue. Why? Because Oslo was dubbed “Tigerstaden” (“Tiger City”), based on a poem by Norwegian writer Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson*

It was brisk, quiet, and beautiful. I went out to see the thing in Oslo that I was most excited to see, the Oslo Opera House. Built-in 2007 and designed by Snøhetta, it is a stunning, angular, white marble structure, right on the edge of the harbour and designed to look like a giant iceberg. It’s beautiful just in its own right; just to look at it from its different angles. What makes it spectacular though is that it is not just to be used as an opera house, but as a structure that also functions as a public space, meaning that people are allowed and encouraged to walk on the building and to use its sloping sides for recreation, for reflection, and as a spot from which to enjoy the view of the water. First thing in the morning I had it all to myself, which was great, however, I better appreciated it when I went back in the afternoon and saw it when it was covered with people. I love the idea that it’s a beautiful building, but it’s also made to be a part of the landscape like a public square.

*View of the harbour from the Opera House / sculpture “She Lies” by Monica Bonvicini*

Other than the Opera House, that morning I just generally walked around Oslo and looked at the streets and the beautiful buildings. It was very quiet, but it was very sunny and cold and the buildings were colourful and beautiful and there were numerous statues that I could look at. Nothing not much was open at that point, I did manage to get a sandwich from a convenience store, which was not inexpensive, but reasonably priced and gave me enough fuel to start my day. (Lots of photos here, but the writing continues.)

colourful buildings on a quiet Saturday morning

*Freia clock at Egertorget square (Freia is a Norwegian brand of chocolate)*

*me and my morning cigar near the Oslo Theatre*

more sights of very early morning in Central Oslo

Viegland Park

After I was finished my walk around the city centre, I continued walking in the direction of Vigeland Park. On the way, I passed a flea market that was just setting up, which was nice for a quick browse. It was a long walk to the park, but it took me through several more residential neighbourhoods and was very pretty.

Vigeland Park is a park that is filled with sculptures of one artist: Gustav Vigeland. The sculptures are weird. I don’t really know how else to say it. I mean, they’re well done, and they are distinctive in their style – a style that I don’t really have language to describe, but they’re weird. They are all sculptures of people in various stages of life and activity: fighting and running and aging and posing in weird positions…there’s a tower of people piled on top of one another and people on each other’s backs. Probably the most famous is the angry baby statue, which apparently is good luck if you touch its hand (I cannot attest to this as I do not like babies), and a man attacked by babies and violently trying to shake them off, which is probably what I would look like if I were ever asked to babysit. (Don’t ask me to babysit.)

*Vigeland Park*: *me after making an impossibly tight flight connection*

The park would certainly be more picturesque in the summer; at the time that I was there it was April, and the trees hadn’t really started growing leaves and the grass was partially still covered with snow. It was still nice for a stroll.

Back in Central Oslo

I hopped on a tram to head back to the city centre. I wandered around some more, looking at notable buildings and checking out streets.

*Statue of Queen Maud near the Palace. Fun fact about Maud: she had an 18 inch waist. Some of her dresses are at the museum and they are shocking.*

Then I was hungry again. This would be, as it turns out, the only sit-down meal that I had in Oslo. I just had too much to do, and I didn’t have time to spend it eating food. (I did, somehow, find time to smoke four cigars. Priorities.) I found a cafe near the harbour and got a table outside. It was a sunny day; it wasn’t warm but with a coat and a scarf it was lovely to sit outside and have a bit of pumpkin soup with a cigar and a cup of coffee.

*A My Father cigar and coffee on a chilly afternoon*

A Gallery and A Museum

Refuelled, it was time for museums. I went first to the Astrud Feamley Museum, specifically because I love modern art and I knew that they had some Damien Hirst pieces there. It was a great museum small enough to navigate the short period of time with lots of weird and wonderful modern art I really enjoyed it.

*Astrud Feamley Museum*: *Damien Hirst wishes you a Happy Easter*

About a two-minute walk away is the National Museum, which is also excellent. It’s quite a bit larger and it has a wonderful display of modern art from both Norwegian and international artists, as well as more historical items. I didn’t linger too long in either museum, but I enjoyed my visits.

*National Museum: Cupboard XII by Simone Leigh (foreground); and Escalade Beyond Chromatic Lands by Sheila Hicks background)*

More excellent art at the National Museum

I enjoyed walking along the harbour as well seeing so many people out sitting outside enjoying meals and drinks in the sunshine.

Koselig in action?

I also noticed the saunas floating in the fjord. I had investigated renting one of them before I went to Oslo, but I decided against it because (1) too expensive; (2) it doesn’t seem like something that I would want to do with such a short period of time. But if you’re there for longer, they look fantastic. You rent your own sauna and you just sit out there floating in the fjord enjoying the heat and then you plunge into the water and do it all over again. If you’re the sort of person who likes to travel with friends (I am not that sort of person) this might be for you.

Smoking Cigars in Oslo

It was around this time that I popped in the only cigar store that I saw in central Oslo, which was Augusto Cigars. It’s a very good cigar store; the proprietor clearly takes tobacco very seriously and had a great selection. I bought a few cigars, but the main reason that I went there was that I had read that they had a smoking lounge. They do, but it was only available for members.

Augusto Cigars

As far as I could tell the smoking laws in Oslo were quite strict. You really can’t smoke inside anywhere; the outdoor smoking laws, however, I couldn’t quite figure out. Some places allowed smoking outside which is why I was able to smoke my cigar with my soup over lunch, but many did not. Although the man didn’t let me smoke in his establishment, he did recommend a place that I could go later and smoke which I did.

A Dame in Damstredet

From there I walked to a different area of the city, around Damstredet and Telthusbakken. I did that because one I love to walk through the city and see the sites that I can see and because the areas those streets specifically are known for having old beautiful and colourfully painted wooden houses from the early 19^th century. It was charming. The houses are brightly painted and wooden, set closely together on cobbles streets. They are adorable. Again, they would have been more adorable had it been summer or springtime with leaves and plants out in full bloom, but I really enjoyed the walk in the area nevertheless.

I strolled through a cemetery, and then meandered my way back to central Oslo, walking along streets with lots of appealing cafes, restaurants, and shops, with people out enjoying the day.

modern buildings

A bar I visited and one of the few murals I saw

Oslo Evening

I will say that at this point I was very tired. I had slept little on the flight coming to Oslo, I had slept only about three hours in my room before I went out, and I had walked at this point about 25 kilometres. If I had more time in Oslo, there are more things that I would have done. There’s a tremendous number of museums there (unfortunately the one with the Viking ship that I most wanted to see was closed at the time), and I certainly could have done everything that I did at a slower pace. But the only thing that I really left off the table being in Oslo for such a short time was that I didn’t get to go on one of the fjord cruises to see the water. But there’s always next time.

I spent much of the evening in a bar smoking cigars. The man at the cigar store had recommended a bar called Dr. Jekyll’s Pub. It’s quite pleasant inside and allows cigar smoking on it nice back patio that is sheltered from the wind, heated, and welcoming. When I sat down there other people out there enjoying cigars. I chatted with the bartender and then preceded to chat with the other people (all locals to Oslo) out there smoking. It was a very relaxing way to end the day.

It was dark by the time that I left. I got a falafel from a local shop my dinner and walked around a little bit more (ok, about 5 km more) in the dark and then taking one final view at the Opera House, which really is just stunning, and then I went back to my hostel room and went to bed. By the time the day was over I walked over 30 kilometres and seen many of the highlights of the city.

While there are a lot of sights to see in Oslo, there really is just a lot of joy from walking around and taking in the vibe on the streets. I’ll go back to Oslo because I want to see more of Norway but all-in-all, I was happy with my ~30 hours spent in the city.

*me in front of a building entrance i liked*

*There is a store here called “Dale of Norway”.*
*(If you’ve just stumbled on this post and don’t know me: my name is Dale.)*

Leaving Oslo

The next morning, at about 4am, I took the train back to the airport, which was cheap and efficient. When I was going through immigration at the airport, I found myself standing in the queue in front of the same man who had stamped my passport when I entered Oslo. I walked up to the counter.

“Hello. I remember you,” I said.

He looked at me and said, still deadpan, “And I remember you. How was your day in Oslo?”

“Fantastic. I can’t wait to come back.”

He stamped my passport with something that approached a smile and wordlessly handed it back to me. It was the perfect bookend to my trip.

Of course, my trip wasn’t entirely over; I still had a long layover in London on Easter Sunday ahead of me…

Europe Oslo weekend 2023 United Kingdom

London Layover in Little Venice

A Swift Exit for a Quick Visit

It was Easter weekend and I had decided to go to Oslo from Vancouver for a long weekend. For reasons that I’ll explain in another post, that long weekend trip became much shorter than I had intended; but this post is about London, and one option for how to spend a layover of about 6 hours.

I love London layover. Heathrow is close enough to the city that even with a short layover (provided you’re efficient about getting through the airport) you can go into London and do something lovely. Usually, I won’t do that unless I have about an 8 hour layover, but on this occasion I had six and a half hours, but I was determined to do something. I just little research and discovered that without venturing too far from Paddington station I could visit a neighbourhood that I had previously ignored: Little Venice.

The key to getting through Heathrow successfully for a quick layover into London is being efficient and planning. I always sit as close to the front of the airplane as possible, without sitting in business class, so I can get off the plane quickly. I travel with carry-on luggage, So I don’t have to transfer any luggage through security. In this case, I was travelling with a very small under seat backpack so I didn’t even need to leave it at the left luggage office at the airport; I could just breeze through and get on the train. Once I’m in the airport, I never for any reason; I just power walk my way right through security (having a Canadian passport helps so I can use the machines instead of having to speak to the guards), and I splurge on the London Heathrow Express ticket (I pre-purchase it online), which is just a little bit faster than the regular train. From the time the plane touched down to the time that I arrived at Paddington station was less than an hour.

The Heathrow Express will take you right to Paddington station in about 15 minutes, and from there you can get the Tube from the Paddington underground station to anywhere. But this time, I thought rather than getting on the tube to go somewhere else, I would just explore the area around Paddington.

Little Venice

When I lived in London, I was unaware of the area around Paddington as being anything special, but it is now apparently called Little Venice due to the fact that there are two canals that converge there. It’s a small but pleasant neighbourhood; relatively affluent with the usual shops cafes and pubs to poke around in, but the real treat is wandering along the canals. There are some small statues and clever bridges and newer buildings; but the best thing are the waterways themselves and the boats on them you can rent a boat or go on a boat tour, and spend your afternoon sailing around the canals, (not something that I’d recommend for a very short layover), or you could just admire them as you sit and have coffee on the path alongside the water, or you can have a fabulous lunch at any one of the of the boats or barges that have been converted into charming restaurants including one that is entirely devoted to cheese. On a sunny day it is a perfect place to wander around.

*Little Venice boat and a group of ladies who brunch*

Beyond the canals

I think even had I had a shorter layover it would have been great to have come there and just walked along the canal and had a coffee and a bite to eat, but I ended up with more time than anticipated so I wandered around a little bit more over to Hyde Park and passed some of the beautiful Regency buildings and smaller parks. It was springtime and the flowers were blooming and the sun shining. I poked into a few of the mewses and tried not to annoy the people that lived there as I took a few pictures of their picturesque streets.

Some shots of a lovely spring day in London

Back to Heathrow

And that was that. I spent a couple of hours walking around, had a coffee and a falafel, and then I made my way back to Heathrow for my connecting flight to Oslo. Going back was equally quick and efficient. I could have stayed longer in London but I’m always a little bit anxious about getting back to the airport with more than enough time. After all, I wanted to enjoy some airport lounge time. It all felt very decadent. And from there I was on to Oslo for what would be the shortest international trip of my life.

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.)

Wandering North

Tag: Europe