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Wandering North

Chronicling my travel adventures since 2007

  • Home
  • About Me
  • Where I’ve Been
  • Destinations
    • Africa
      • Algeria
      • Benin
      • Botswana
      • Burkina Faso
      • Côte d’Ivoire
      • Democratic Republic of the Congo
      • Djibouti
      • Egypt
      • Eritrea
      • Ethiopia
      • Ghana
      • Mauritania
      • Morocco
      • Rwanda
      • Senegal
      • South Sudan
      • Sudan
      • Togo
      • Tunisia
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      • Zambia
      • Zimbabwe
    • Asia
      • Azerbaijan
      • Bangladesh
      • Brunei Darussalam
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      • China
      • Cyprus
      • Georgia (the country)
      • Hong Kong
      • India
      • Indonesia
      • Iraq
      • Japan
      • Jordan
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      • Kyrgyzstan
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      • Myanmar (Burma)
      • Malaysia
      • Nepal
      • Oman
      • Pakistan
      • Philippines
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Tag: solo travel

Posted inAfrica Rwanda Uganda

Rhinoceroses in Uganda

From Jinja, I returned to Kampala, this time staying in the Kampala Boulevard Suites. A step up from my previous lodgings Kampala, but I liked it less. It was a splendidly located but completely soulless and not inexpensive business hotel. The only reason I picked it was that I could get a suite with a balcony and, given Uganda’s draconian non-smoking laws, a private balcony was the only place I could enjoy a cigar.

And my first niight there, I did just that, overlooking the snarling traffic.

Daytime traffic in Kampala
Nightime traffic in Kampala

For my final day in Uganda I hired a driver to take me to the Ziwa Rhinoceros wildlife reserve. It is a good day trip. It is theoretically possible to take transit to get to Ziwa, but the you would need a car to get from the road into the park.

Ziwa isn’t a zoo or a game reserve, it’s really just an outdoor area where rhinoceroses are and armed wildlife rangers guard the, from poachers. Each rhino is assigned two armed guards, whose job it is to follow them around inconspicuously at a distance and keep them safe from poaching. There is no touching the animals or disturbing them; just quiet observation from a safe distance.

When I arrived at Ziwa I, along with two other women who arrived at the same time, was assigned a guide, who walked us through the bush towards where the rhinos were, as directed by the guards over walkie talkie. As we got closer they communicated through whistles.

We came across two groups of rhinoceroses. Some were napping in the shade but the others were eating. Constantly. Fair enough; they’re the size of compact station wagons and eat grass. We got to get pretty close and just observed them in silence for about an hour. It was pretty special.

Was was not so special was when I stepped, ankle-deep, into a pile of warm rhinoceros poo in my only boots.

After the encounter we walked back, had lunch, and I returned to my hotel where much of the evening was spent cleaning my boots.

It was a good end to my short time in Uganda. It wasn’t the gorillas I had originally planned to see, but it was equally interesting. The next morning I flew back to Kigali for a couple of days and then back home.

Nothing of any particular consequence happened on the return visit to Kiglai. I just walked around, had a cigar or two and saw things I had previously seen. It doesn’t merits own post. Over all the trip to Rwanda, Uganda, and the Congo was wonderful. I was already planning my next trip on the flight home.

Read More about Rhinoceroses in Uganda
Posted on 29 November 18
0
Posted inAfrica Uganda

Jinja, Uganda

I had decided to go to Jinja. A more peaceful retreat after Kampala. Hammocks, walks, white water rafting, and the source of the River Nile (sort of). It sounded like a great way to wrap up a holiday that has been wonderful, but busy.

Getting to Jinja is easy. There is a road and various options for getting there from Kampala. There are tons of mini vans departing from Kampala Road or from the market, with touts hanging out the doors, calling out Jinja. The drive should only take about an hour, but the traffic on the narrow road invariably snarls, and the trip actually takes about 3 hours. As incredible cheap as the minivans are (a few dollars) I didn’t want to spend 3 hours crammed in with too many people, sweating. So I decided to take a taxi. It was expensive (like, $80) and I probably overpaid, but I just felt like being comfortable and it was worth it, because the drive was long and hot and I slept much of the way. (On my way back I tried what is probably the best option, which is to take the pineapple express shuttle, which leaves at set times from various hostels and hotels is comfortable and not overcrowded and is about $14.)

Arriving in Jinja I was dropped off at my lodgings, “The Source of the Smile” guesthouse. (I know, but I didn’t name it.) It felt like paradise. Behind a wall was a lovely garden area with little bungalow style rooms, each with its own outdoor seating area, as well as several common ones. A couple of hammocks. A pool. And my room was so gauzy, white, and cool. I was happy. I spent a few nights there and loved it. A perfect place to hang out.

The Source of the Smile

Over the next couple of days I started to decide what I did not feel like doing. I was tired and pretty content to just walk around, drink juices, smoke cigars, and read. I didn’t feel like horseback riding or white water rafting. Plus, my cash was running a bit low at this point and I wasn’t having the best time with the ATMs. So that is basically, what I did in Jinja. I relaxed.

The walk from my guesthouse to the town area wasn’t too long and there were a number of pleasant paths, including one along a golf course that itself ran along the Nile. Apparently back when this part of the Nile was more hippo-rich, the odd hippopotamus would wander onto the course. The road was lined with palm trees filled with screeching bats.

Golf Course along the Nile

The town of Jinja I found delightful. It is pretty quiet in most places. It has this wonderful architecture, which is very Indian in style; a bit shabby, but still full of charm. Because so many tourists go to Jinja for the outdoor activities, there are a good number of cafes and restaurants catering to them. My favourite of which is The Deli, which had a great menu of healthy food and lots of fresh juices and smoothies – and a garden patio on Main street. A great spot for writing or meeting fellow travellers, both of which I did.

Jinja scenes
Jinja Building
Street scene in Jinja
Textiles for sale

I walked to the Central Market, which was bustling. Vast varieties of fruits and vegetables, meats, and fish. I felt rather conspicuous taking photos, so I went up to the second level to take some pictures looking down on the activities.

Central Market
Central Market
Central Market

The second floor of the market was all seamstresses (tailors?) sewing clothes, all using the old style foot pedal, black sewing machines. The air had a wonderful hum from hundreds of the, machines going at once.

The only real activity I did in Jinja was I took a Nile cruise. “Cruise” might be overstating it. I was the only person on the small, wooden boat who was not working. We sailed past fishermen and past other boats, finally landing in a village in Buganda Kingdom.

Our Boat

The stroll around the village was great. People were friendly and children ran out (as they do) with curiosity. Many of them asked for photos and posed then laughed uproariously when I showed them the results. It is always fascinating to me to see how other people live

From there we sailed to the “source of the Nile”. This is pretty cool – the Nile being that river that captured my imagination as a child and led me in part to visit Egypt at 18 or 19 on my first solo trip. Interestingly though, the source of the Nile is just as mysterious as all it evokes. The source of the (white) Nile was a mystery for centuries. In the 1850s explorer John Hanning Speke “discovered” it in Jinja, Uganda. Today there is a sign post marking the exact spot and a statue to Mr. Speke in a garden overlooking the spot. It is pretty cool.

Me on the Nile

The thing is, since then, it was discovered that the Nile actually reached Rwanda. Then, in 2006, is was found to reach into Burundi. So the controversy and exploration continues, but all of the businesses named the “Source of the Nile” tours or cafe, etc, persist.

From the boat we watched the sun set on the Nile and Lake Victoria.

And that is how I spent a few lazy days in Jinja.

Fruit Stand in Jinja
Read More about Jinja, Uganda
Posted on 27 November 18
0
Posted inAfrica Uganda

Kampala, Uganda

Kampala, Uganda. I arrived in Entebbe (the closest airport to Kampala) after a 40 minute flight from Kigali. A new country. I had already gotten my East Africa Tourist Visa so there were not formalities other than the checking of my yellow fever vaccination certificate. I took a taxi from Entebbe to Kampala, which took about an hour. Kampala is bigger than Kigali. The traffic is crazy. On the way we passed various poor areas and haphazard markets. I took a few pics from the taxi window.

Once in the city centre, Kampala is organized and busy on one side of Kampala road, and organized chaos on the other. I was staying at the Shumuk Hotel and Apartments. When we pulled up to the run down and otherwise nondescript office building I was certain we had the wrong place. There wasn’t even a sign.

But I did have the right place. It is a run down office building but with short and long term apartments for rent on the top two floors. The rooms weren’t fancy but they were clean and I had a full, small apartment. I was satisfied.

Plus, the location was great. I could walk to tons of cafes, restaurants, craft shops, and the aforementioned organized chaos. Unlike Kigali, it did not have the punishing hills.

I walked and browsed and ate. I also saw the ugliest bird I have ever seen. Hands down. The Maribou Stork. They are everywhere in Kampala. They are huge – they can have wingspans of up to 12 feet and they have these hideous faces, like bird-corpse-dinosaurs. I tried really hard to get a good picture of one, but this is the best I could get. The stupid thing kept evading my camera. If I looked like that I would do the same.

The next morning, I got up early and went for a coffee at a big Kenyan chain coffee shop. Sitting there with my Americano, who should walk in but the guy from Delhi that I had met in Goma days earlier. I know it happens, but it always surprises me to run into the same person randomly that I crossed paths with in another country. We made plans to have dinner and did indeed have an excellent dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant in a posher area of town.

In the meantime, however, I had arranged a boda boda (motorcycle) tour of Kampala through Walter’s tours, which I recommend. Kampala is short on major sights, but this takes you from place to place on a motorcycle, so you get to see a lot in a fun way.

Richard, my guide, and I went to the Bahai temple and the big mosque. At both sites I got a little more info than I needed, but they were nice buildings. At the mosque, I climbed to the top of the huge minaret in the ankle length modesty dress they outfitted me in, for the views of the city.

We went to the palace, which one cannot enter, but I got a lot of very interesting history and then walked through a beautiful garden area to Idi Amin’s torture cells.

There isn’t much to them: a concrete tunnel with rectangular cells, but they were very creepy. Hearing the stories of how many people were killed there (16k-19k) through various methods from electrocution to suffocation (from cramming people into the cells). The walls are still covered in hand prints and writings in blood, dirt, and excrement from the prisoners. And there are bats. Lots of bats. And at least one femur.

From there we went to some market areas and ended up at the old taxi park, which is a cluster of white minivans parked in am impossible tangle.

We got a seat at a cafe overlooking the taxis and the streets below, which was very interesting. Watching the vans get out, baskets of grasshopper snacks for sale, vendors of everything imaginable, and stands were people trade old/worn currency for new looking currency for status, apparently.

It was a good day. I finished up with a nice dinner with my new friend from the Congo, and finally a cigar.

At this point in the trip I had been on the go every day and it was time for some relaxation, so the next day I was going to Jinja.

Read More about Kampala, Uganda
Posted on 25 November 18
2
Posted inAfrica Democratic Republic of the Congo Rwanda

Return to Rwanda

I left the Democratic Republic of the Congo and crossed the border into Rwanda on foot using my East Africa visa, which would allow me to move back and forth between Rwanda and Uganda. The rest of the day, and the most of the rest was pleasant but unremarkable.

I did laundry at the air bnb I was staying at in Gisenyi – very necessary as I had taken on a certain odor. I lazed about in a hammock and had dinner at Cafe Calafia, my aforementioned new favourite cafe, with the cozy interior, beautiful garden exterior, and excellent menu. After that I returned to my air bnb where I walked in on (unbeknownst to my host) a tremendous bout of yelling and domestic disturbance. I’ll spare the details, but I found it quite unpleasant and so I went for a walk and then sat outside smoking a cigar with my headphones on until things subsided.

The next day I did not, as planned, take a 5 hour bus back to Kigali but opted for the 2 hour private car at 10x the price. It just sounded so much more appealing. Is this what happens as travellers get older? Do we spend some extra money for some extra comfort? I don’t like to think about it that way, but I did appreciate that I was enjoying a coffee and cigar in Kigali at a time when I would otherwise have still been on the bus.

This time in Kigali I stayed not at the Nest but at the Discover Rwanda Youth Hostel. (Applying the broad definition of “youth” apparently.) I like to try different places and explore different areas, which is why I chose the hostel. It had a swell patio for eating and chilling out with other travellers, I must admit it was not as nice as the Nest, which was about the same price.

I went for a long walk up and down Kigali’s punishing hills and ended up at a lovely cafe, where I had a cigar that I bought the previous month in El Salvador (making me feel like quite the jet setter / douchebag) and a french press of excellent coffee. Also soup.

I struck up a conversation with a girl also traveling alone who was from Washington State. We chatted and then left together, walking to a bookstore with a rooftop cafe, where we stayed until it was dark, swapping travel tales.

Unable to find a single moto driver who knew where my hostel was, I walked back in the dark (thankfully remembering my way). At the bottom of the final big hill, I did get a moto to drive me up the last bit for a few cents.

So not much happened on these days aside from transit and casual strolling, but it was most pleasant and welcome, as the next day I was off to Uganda.

Read More about Return to Rwanda
Posted on 25 November 18
1
Posted inAfrica Democratic Republic of the Congo

Masisi, the Alps of the Congo

Following my day exploring Goma, I was collected at the Ihusi Hotel by Cide, who would be my guide and companion for the next 2 days. I had booked an overnight tour of the Masisi region of the Democratic Republic of the Congo through Kivu Travel. (Website here.) After my gorilla plans fell through (see my previous DRC post) I still wanted to see something of the Congo in the time that I had and Masisi looked amazing. And there was no way I could have managed this without having it organized through a company, as the Masisi is not exactly set up for independent travel. Kivu Travel was super helpful and kept checking in and confirming that all was well and that I was taken care of.

But before Masisi, a boat ride.

Cide dropped me off on the shores of Lake Kivu, placing me in the hands of a 4 man crew on a rather basic wooden boat. We set sail, at first past the shores of Goma, which gave a great view of the otherwise invisible posh homes, and then we sailed farther into the lake.

The plan was to visit a coffee farm, which sounded good, but mostly I just wanted to sail around. And sail we did, for about 2 hours before reaching the farm. It was very peaceful. We saw only a few small canoes type boats and a couple of ferries.

Reaching the farm, I was handed off to a fellow (whose name I cannot recall) who very carefully showed me the coffee farm and explained the process from planting to sending off for roasting. It was surprisingly interesting. I have been to coffee farms before, but they just sort of showed the trees and then explained about the different varieties. This was not a tourist show; it was an actual, working farm and I have to say that it was sobering to see how much hand labour goes in to coffee, just at the farm level. I mean, I guess I knew it, but I never really thought about it. Every single bean, hand picked, hand peeled, washed, hand sorted, dried, etc all by hand. Plus all the planting, replanting, roasting, etc.

It was really interesting and reminiscent of my rice realizations in SE Asia. For all the mechanization we have available, some things are still painstakingly made by hand.

Back in the boat, we sailed for close to 3 hours until a pretty area appeared before us, marked by Cide’s white SUV. I was deposited on the shore, where we had a picnic lunch of vegetarian sandwich, avocado, and bananas. I told Cide that in North America we are crazy for avocados and that in restaurants we will pay $10 or more for a slice of toasted bread with butter and avocado. His eyes went wide and he didn’t stop laughing for a solid minute. I can’t say I blame him.

Then we drove, higher and higher into the mountains. The landscape started out as a beautiful green patchwork of farm lands, then smoothed out into rolling, velvety hills dotted with farm animals. This is the Masisi region.

It was stunning. Like something out of a painting or a picture book. If it weren’t for the villages, which are definitely African, it could easily be the Alps.

Just when I thought I could not be any more impressed, we arrived at this charming farmhouse set on a hill overlooking the valley and with beautiful gardens. This is where I was to stay.

My room was enormous and I had a living room with a fireplace and private balcony. No electricity or internet, though they ran the generator at night for lights and the fireplaces were lit for warmth. It was so perfect.

Cide and I sat overlooking the valley and were served a teapot of warm milk from the cows below. I had a cigar.

We then walked into the valley and the village past the dairy farm, flocks of sheep, errant goats, and parades of geese. Horses grazed. People laboured. Children played and peeked curiously at me.

It was all so lovely.

The best part of the walk was visiting the home of this one grandmother who had 3 tobacco plants in her garden. Cide said she grew them for herself, to dry and smoke. She didn’t speak English or French, but Cide translated. I gave the woman one of my cigarillos. She tried it but was not impressed, saying hers was better. Her friend agreed. The woman then got some of her dried tobacco and rolled me a small one and offered it to me. It was a bit on the moist side, but was good. Cocoa-y.

After that, we returned to the house and were fed an enormous dinner. I briefly dozed by the fire and then went to bed.

The morning brought a massive breakfast with a view of the valley.

We then walked down to the dairy farm, where free roaming cows were being milked. I tried my hand at it with limited success.

From there we visited the “cheese factory” which is just two guys in two rooms making cheese without any mechanization. The cheese is good. Like a tangy gouda.

Finally we went for a walk through the main village, where we were followed by throngs of children, curious and friendly, all giving thumbs up and asking for photos, which they then looked at and laughed hysterically.

Finally, we returned to Goma and I crossed the borders back to Rwanda. It was a perfect couple of days. I liked the comparative bustle of Goma, but Masisi was magical. A peaceful mountainous dairy farming region was not what I thought of when I thought to visit the Congo, but I am glad I made my way there.

Read More about Masisi, the Alps of the Congo
Posted on 21 November 18
3
Posted inCentral America / Caribbean El Salvador

Walking in San Salvador after dark

The whole reason I am writing this post is because this is precisely the information I wanted before going to San Salvador but could not find.

I returned to my hotel after visiting the Ruta de los Flores around 5:00 pm and I had a little lay around the hotel, but then I was hungry and restless, so decided to go out. It was only maybe 8:00 pm, but it was dark.

The thing is, everything I read said that it was absolutely not safe to go out alone after dark in San Salvador, and if you must go out, take a taxi, even if it is just a few blocks. Furthermore, I read that the central area I was staying in was particularly dangerous. That just didn’t make sense to me. So, no one walks at night alone, ever? The sun goes down at 6:00 pm and the buses stop at 9:00. I had had to test this advice.

I left behind my my credit cards, my ID, and anything of value. I took a little cash, a cigar, a phone, and a lighter.

I left my hotel, the Hotel Villa Florencia Centro Historico, and walked more or less towards the main cathedral square. The streets were very quiet. Desolate. Everything was closed except for one supermarket. There were a few people still packing up their market wares, but it was quiet. A pedestrian here and there, the odd car, and buses on one street, but the street I walked on, so alive with bustle in the daylight, looked almost like an apocalyptic wasteland at night. But I didn’t feel unsafe. I was just very aware of the lack of people. Actually, that may not be accurate. It did feel potentially unsafe, but I was ok with it.

There was one spot where I walked through what was a narrow corridor of closed up market stalls on either side. In there it was very dark. On either side, solid walls metal security gates, and tarps overhead. I don’t love the dark and there was a lack of side exits, so when I approached that veritable tunnel, and I saw a young. Preppy looking guy head in before me, about 40 feet, i sped up so i could sort of walk with (behind) him. I did this because i felt it would be safer than walking solo.

I started to speed up, to catch up with him, and he sped up. I walked even faster and he broke into a run. I guess everybody was a bit uneasy about walking that area at night, but I was surprised (amused?) that in this instance I was the threatening force.

I did make it to the two squares by the theatre and cathedral. There, things were lively. People out for strolls and dinner, buskers, crowded pupusas stalls. It was nice. I had a bite and then walked back along the same, dark streets back to my hotel.

I did stop to take a few pictures in the square on my lousy cell phone.

I think it is probably fine to go walking after dark solo, but you definitely need to be aware of your surroundings. As usual, though, the hype about violence and crime far exceeds its presence.

Read More about Walking in San Salvador after dark
Posted on 20 October 18
0
Posted inCentral America / Caribbean El Salvador

Suchitito

Day two in El Salvador I discovered there was a tiny restaurant next to my hotel. Such a hole in the wall that I missed it every time I had walked by it previously. Good food though. Vegetarian options were lacking, but there WERE vegetarian options. Rice, beans, plantains, and coffee for about $1.50.

I had decided to go to Suchitoto. It is quite near San Salvador and looked pretty. I was going to take the bus. I can’t totally explain why I didn’t take the bus because I lack the Spanish language skills to understand. I took a taxi to the Terminal Oriente bus station, which seemed much farther than it should have been and when i got there, the bus station had a different name but people seemed to confirm I was in the right place, yet, there was no bus to Suchitoto. I didn’t relish trying to take another taxi to another bus station, so I took a taxi the whole way. The ride took about an hour and I paid $30. The driver got lost, but I got there eventually.

The drive was pretty, past verdant valleys and past cute little towns.

Suchitoto was so charming. All grassy cobbestoned streets with single storey building, painted bright colors set around a pretty and leafy square with a fountain, overlooked by a whitewashed church from the 1850s. No streetlights, nothing actually to suggest that it is the modern era, except an internet cafe (which, at best, suggests that it is 1998). It is definitely more of a tourist place. There were proper gifty crafty shops and a few couples took selfies in front of the church.

I walked a bit and then had coffee at Casa de la Abuela, which is a super cute cafe/shop/guest house. I chatted with the owner (the first person I have met here who speaks English). He told me that he was from Suchitoto, moved away, then moved back to raise his kids. He said it has a small town feel and is away from the gang and violence problems elsewhere. He also gave me a map and some suggestions.

Importantly, he told me about Victoria. Suchitoto used to be a cigar making town but after the revolution, he said, the cigar making stopped, except for Victoria, a 93 year old woman who still rolls cigars out of her home. He sold some at his shop (i bought all of them), but said I could go to her house. He drew a map and said i should go down this one street and look for the house “with a dog as white as snow.” So I guess I suddenly was on a quest from a fairy tale. I did walk to the street – twice – but I didn’t see a dog as white as snow. Just one as as tan as caramel and one black as coal. I did figure out which house it was (saw a pile of tobacco through a window), but no one was home…or she was hiding because a crazy girl with tattoos was creeping around her house.

I walked to the lake. It was about 20 minutes, down a steep hill past little farm houses. The lake was pretty with floating lilies and islands in the distance with cows grazing.

You can hire boats to take you to on little pleasure tours or to the different islands, but I was concerned about paying way too much to go solo and about being gone too long, so I just walked along the shore. I sensibly took a bus back up to the town. It was just me, the driver, and a man carrying a tiny puppy and about six medium sized fish strung together like a garland.

I had a cigar in the square and took a bus back to San Salvador.

Buses can make me nervous. Am I on the right one? How do I know when I am at my destination? This was pretty simple. It was a local bus – one of those old school buses repainted with bright colours and fitted with horns and spoiler. The ride was pretty good. I got a seat. No one carried fish. The ride took about 1 1/5 hours. When we got to the city I was a bit concerned about where to get off, but the I saw the yellow dome of the cathedral in the near distance, so i got off and snaked my way through blocks of market stalls and surrounding chaos.

I had a couple of pupusas at a pupuseria by the market. Pupusas are basically San Salvador’s national dish. Corn meal pancakes filled with cheese, beans, meat, pork fat, or whatever, fried, and served with pickled cabbage and spicy or mild tomato sauce. Pretty good. They are everywhere. I had two and a big bottle of water for $1.20.

I walked back to my hotel, where I am enjoying a cigar. Tomorrow I shall embark on the Ruta de las Flores.

Read More about Suchitito
Posted on 6 October 18
1
Posted inCentral America / Caribbean El Salvador

San Salvador, El Salvador

Canadian Thanksgiving was approaching and my magnanimous boss gave me an extra day off, resulting in a four day weekend. My new thing is: if I have the money and four days off, I’m going somewhere. I scoured the flights and the best deals were to be found in Central America. I decided El Salvador was my choice. It is small and has enough sites to see in four days, but is not a place that I have a strong desire to spend weeks in. And here I am in El Salvador on a Friday night, smoking a cigar on a patio at my hotel.

El Salvador suffers from a distinct lack of tourism. Travellers through Central America tend to skip it, due, likely, to its recent history of violence, gang activity, and instability. It was, for some time, the murder capital of the world (which is a terrible tourism slogan), but that honour has been lost to Mexico (though people still head thee is droves). El Salvador has a history of sad tourism marketing slogans that practically implore people to come here and those that do have inly good things to say. There are tropical forests, beaches, surfing, and an alarming number of volcanos to hike, but I’ll be sticking to cities and towns.

The only downside to my plan was that I vastly over estimated how much sleep i would get on my red-eye flight. Very little as it turned out and I have been exhausted today, though I still got out to look around.

Immigration was easy. You have to pay $10 for a visa, but there is no formality to it. Allegedly there are shuttles one can take from the airport to town for a small price, but there was no signage or information booth to assist. So I took a taxi. $30 (probably could have gotten it cheaper but fatigue diminishes my enthusiasm for haggling) and about 40 minutes through some beautiful, velvety green hills and then though urban areas with tangled traffic, coconut vendors, and scruffy buildings.

I am staying at the Villa Florencia Historico hotel which is just a 10 minute walk from the historic centre in a quiet university neighbourhood. The room is basic, but comfortable, the hotel is basically an old house and is quite cute. No hot water and no English, but I knew that going in and the price was right.

I walked to the Centre, down busy streets lined with market stalls selling rambutan and other fruits, juice, snacks, and an extraordinary amount of underpants and stretchy jeans. The stalls became an encompassing labyrinth but then gave way to three squares in close proximity. A couple of pretty churches, an attractive theatre, an empty palace for wandering.

The squares were filled with musicians, police, and locals. I saw only one other tourist. I was not able to be incognito. I’m not sure if it was the goth white skin or green eyes, but everyone knew I was a tourist. Thankfully, everyone was very friendly – as best I could tell. No one speaks more than a word or two of English.

I had a strawberry juice and some kind of fried disk piled with beans, radish, lettuce, tomato, cabbage, cheese, and hot sauce (2 for $1.10).

One of the most interesting things was the Iglesia El Roasario, a church built in 1971. From the outside it was unremarkable. While i was there, the name of the church was being scraped off from the concrete. The entrance was off a sketchy-looking side street.

But inside it was a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. The exterior is covered in small slits filled with colored glass and the light that comes in fills the inside with glowing rainbows. The photos don’t really do it justice, but it was stunning.

I walked through a market with endless stalls of handicrafts and handmade sandals and hammocks. Everyone was very eager to sell, but I was only looking.

I walked and wandered and eventually made my way back to my hotel just in time for the darkness and the rain. I’m too tired to do anything this evening, but I have an early morning planned to take the bus to Suchitoto, so I’m ok with a restful evening.

There is certainly more one could see in San Salvador, but a day is plenty and the surrounding towns look charming.

Ok, I’m going to practice some Spanish. Buenos noches.

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Posted on 6 October 18
4
Posted inMexico North America

Day Trip to Teotihuacan: Pyramids to Libraries

I awoke on day three in Mexico City early and with a plan. Although there was still so much in the city I wanted to see, I decided to take a day trip to Teotihuacan and the pyramids. My parents had visited there in the early ’70s and I remember seeing Polaroids of them standing on the avenue of the dead. It always looked so dusty and exotic. I had to go.

My hostel offered to arrange a tour, which was ok price-wise and would have arranged all transportation, which sounded kind of appealing, but it was also going to a bunch of other sites I wasn’t interested in, so I decided to go by public transportation. I’m glad I did. It was so easy and cheap and I was able to spend as much time as I wanted.

Here’s what I did:
I took the metro to Terminal Central del Norte aka Autobuses del Norte on the yellow line (as previously mentioned, the metro system is great). I crossed the street and went to the bus station. It is very big and you will see it right away. Going inside, I turned left and walked to the end of the hall, to gate 8, the 2nd to last service counter where Autobuses Teotihuacan was selling tickets. The lady at the counter spoke English and I bought a round trip ticket to “Los Pyramides”. It is very cheap – about $6.50 CDN round trip. From there, around the corner is the row where the buses pull up. It is not obvious which exactly which bus stall is which, but the lady had told me which number it was and so I knew it was one of two buses. I just asked people and made sure I was in the right queue and sat behind some local people who were also going to the pyramids so I could just get off when they did. The seats were not assigned. One weird thing was that both going there and coming back, the police got on the bus and took pictures of everyone on the bus. No one was able to tell me why.

The bus was comfortable and took about one hour. As we approached the pyramids the sky was dotted with hot air balloons. I bought a ticket at the gate and entered. It is enormous, spread out. I realized right away that I was glad to not be on a tour, which usually only stay for an hour. There was a lot of walking to be done.

Briefly, Teotihuacan was a city created about 100BC by some unknown people. The names given to the site came from the Aztecs, who came later. The city lasted until about the 7th or 8th century, but it seems that a lot of it was destroyed around 550AD. There are lots of theories about who built it and why it was abandoned, but you’ll have to look elsewhere for that. What I am here to tell you is that it is old and it is awesome.

I met a girl from Manilla and we walked together to the first small pyramid. You couldn’t climb up this particular one, but there were still lots of stairs to get close to it, which was worthwhile to see the well-preserved carvings. From there we walked down the Avenue of the Dead where I attempted to recreate my parents’ Polaroid.

From there, we walked to the Pyramid of the Sun. This is the big one. The third largest in the world. Climbing it seems mandatory. I wasn’t thrilled about this. It is a lot of stairs. Steep ones. But it was actually fine and I stopped for a rest half way up and chatted with a couple from Toronto. I lost my companion from Manila early on, as she needed to keep a slower pace. At the top, I had a sense of satisfaction and great views of the site and the Pyramid of the Moon. Totally worth the climb.

I walked to the Pyramid of the Moon. It was getting hotter and I was pretty tired from the initial climbs, but I didn’t come all this way to NOT climb the Pyramid of the Moon, so up I went. The Moon Pyramid is smaller, but was a harder climb because it was the second one. The views from there are also great.

After descending, I wandered around a bit more, but I was basically done. It was 11am. I was hot, sweaty, and slightly annoyed that there was nary an ice cream vendor in sight. I walked out of the nearest gate (the one closest to the Pyramid of the Moon) and crossed the street and within 5 minutes a bus pulled up, headed back to Mexico City. Apparently they come very frequently. Easy. I slept on the way back.

Because my trip to the Pyramids was just a morning affair, upon arriving back in the City I decided to explore some new areas. I took the metro to Chilpancingo and walked to Parque Mexico, which is a beautiful oasis. Green and flowery with people biking, running, and strolling. There are fountains and popcorn vendors. Just a lovely escape on a hot day.

From there I wandered the Condesa area and then up to the Zona Rosa area. These are really lovely areas with tree lined streets, fancier houses, and lots of inviting pubs and restaurants. I stopped for a bite to eat and then stumbled upon a crafts market, where I walked the aisles before walking to the Roma area. Everywhere I went, I kept finding arts and crafts markets. Not traditional Mexican souvenirs, but more like the sort of stuff you would see at a crafts market in Vancouver or Portland but with more tacos and tequila. There were bands playing and more charming parks with public art.

It was a great area and I could have spent more time, but the day was wearing on and I had a cigar lounge to find. I walked back towards the Parq Mexico and right by there is a building of fancy food stalls, but on the third floor is the most inviting cigar lounge, Cigar Point.

I settled in there for about an hour and half, enjoying a couple of cubans from their humidor, after which I was energized for the walk and train back to the historic centre. I spent the evening trying to stay awake. I went out for a walk to get something to eat and decided to have a couple of bean tacos that a man was selling from a bucket on the street. It was about 40 cents for two of them. Not great, but not bad. I think it was these tacos that led to what was about 12 hours of intense food poisoning. Who would have thought tacos from a bucket would be a bad idea?

This kind of killed off my plans for the next day. I wasn’t feeling great, between my stomach troubles and my legs, which had seized up following all of my pyramid climbing the previous day. I had to leave for the airport at noon, but I took a brief trip by the metro to Biblioteca Vasconcelos, this massive library built in 2006. It has this interesting, open concept that makes the books look like they are floating. It is quite stunning and has interesting features like a whale skeleton art installation and outdoor patio reading rooms. It is gorgeous. I did get in trouble though for taking pictures. Weirdly, photos taken on a phone are fine, but camera photos are not. I explained that I did not have a phone, only my super cheap Sony Cybershot (so it’s not like I’m taking professional pictures), but the guard said no and proceeded to keep an eye on me.

The library is in kind of a lousy area but is totally worth a visit. It is a few steps from the Buena Vista metro stop on the grey line.

After that I had just enough time to pack up my stuff and take the metro to the airport. A little less than four days in Mexico City was amazing. I was able to see so much, but I am definitely going back. There is more to see, but I’ll skip the bucket tacos next time.

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Posted on 24 May 18
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Posted inMexico North America

Down Mexico Way: Mexico City exploration

Saturday morning, I awoke with the determination to get a lot of exploring done. It was my first full day (one of two) in Mexico City. After breakfast at the hostel, i set out. I started at the Zócalo square with the Catedral Metropolitana and from there i more or less followed a walking route through the central historico and into the Alameda area.

I won’t list every sight I saw, but I took in the big ones – several cathedrals, markets, parks, and pedestrian streets of note. It was a great day for wandering. Hot and sunny but not humid, and every turn revealed something worthy of my attention. The harmonium players provided a soundtrack to the touristy areas, tempting food carts, eateries, and cantinas, people just going about their days.

There were certainly very modern areas that looked like any big city and then, turn a corner, and it became more colourful and what I imagined as Mexico revealed itself. At no point did any area feel unsafe.

I did go to the Palacio de Belles Artes, which is a gorgeous building on edge of a lovely park. I saw huge Diego Rivera murals, and various other permanent collection items, as well as a great exhibit of modern, weird art. I didn’t linger, but I was glad I visited.

I went to this one food market (I think it was Gastrónomica San Juan) where they had the usual fruit and cheese but also a gruesome collection of wild game – allegedly everything from lion to capybara, with creatures laid out, torsos like cornucopias of horror. I took a bunch of pictures, but the came out blurry; I was self conscious about taking photos an was attracting too much attention as the lone “gringa”.

I wandered the near endless aisles of the Centro de Artesanias, looking at all the colourful things I didn’t want but liked to look at. People were certainly interested in selling, but in a very casual way that made browsing pleasant, not stressful. I did get a break out my Spanish haggling phrases, which is some of my best Spanish. I had lunch of tortilla chips, beans, and salad with avocado. Not a lot of veg options, but I was happy for the food and the rest.

Rounding back to the Zócalo, i walked down Regina street, which is a great pedestrian street lined with bars and restaurants and some of the best street art around. It is like a gallery…and i may have found inspiration for a new tattoo.

I didn’t want a bar, but found a quieter restaurant, sat outside and ordered a pizza. Too late I discovered that they did not allow smoking on the patio. (Grumble.) But I had a fine time people watching and having my dinner…until a light rain turned into a tropical style downpour, which turned into so much hail it looked like snow. I waited until it died down and then made a dash for it. The rain got worse again and turned into thunder and lightning, which left me hostel bound until almost midnight, at which time I went for another late walk and cigar.

There are police everywhere here, at least in the historic centre. There are frequently clusters of them, with riot gear at hand, sometimes 20 of them, standing around a particular corner before they hop in the back of a pickup truck and move locations. I guess it adds an air of security, but then, I’m not sure if the police are to be trusted. Either way, they spend most of their time on their phones, texting and surfing the internet, as best I could tell.

Another random observation: there are so many sweets shops here selling churros, ice cream, candy, etc. Like…a lot. Plus lots of garbage fast food joints. On the plus side, there are lots of bike lanes and juice shops. I also found that for a city of 20+ million people, there are a lot of slow walkers, not the satisfying hustle I expect from a big city. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate it’s a slow walker. That is my only complaint though. On the whole I found the city I saw to be entirely delightful.

Postscript: my impatience with the slow walkers came back to haunt me two days later when I was suffering from food poisoning and wickedly sore legs from excessive stair climbing at the pyramids. I was left walking like Frankenstein, slowly and with self loathing.

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Posted on 22 May 18
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About Wandering North

Welcome to Wandering North, where I have been blogging about my travels since 2007.

Dale Raven North

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