street art Archives - Page 4 of 5

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Our Woman in Havana

I was undecided about what to do with my final day in Havana. Obviously there would be walking, but i wanted some sort of loose destination. Musing over my morning cigar, i discovered that every Sunday afternoon there is an area with live rumba music. Good enough. Little did i then know that the destination would be even better than live music. I set off through Havana Vieja, past Parque Central, down Calle San Rafael for many blocks, until tourists thinned out and were replaced with local residents doing their daily activities. I tried not to be too obvious as i snapped photos.

I found my way to my destination – Callejon de Hamel – wondering where the live music would be and whether i would even be able to find it. It wasn’t hard. The short street, closed to cars, is lined, crammed, and towered by art. Graffiti, sculpture. Benches made from painted, repurposed bathtubs, courtyards filled with scrap metal totems, the sides of buildings covered with murals…even some art studios, open for visiting.

There were a couple of cafes/studios which were filled with an acceptable mix of locals and visitors. Most of the locals were afrocuban and spoke good English and were happy to tell me about this neighborhood, the artists, and the free programs for autistic and disabled children provided there. I had the local drink – a Negro (like a mojito but with basil instead of mint) – bought a couple of cds of rumba music and took in the sights.

At noon the bands started to play. All percussionists, singers, and dancers. All but one were women and they played the most infectious music. The crown pressed in and climbed up the sides of the buildings to get a prime view. I stayed until the rains started and then headed back to old Havana for an early dinner.

I did of course, stop off for a final cigar at the Partagas Factory VIP room.

What glory! Back in old Havana i found a restaurant that served pizza! Not the barely warm white bread covered with a whisper of sauce and tasteless white cheese that is ubiquitous in Havana, but actual crispy, chewy pizza with tasty sauce and four vegetables. It was great. I celebrated by having a glass of wine and pair of Ramon Allones robustos. I enjoyed a chat with a couple of local travellers from Germany and listened to some decent jazz from the band on the corner.

I have to say, the food has been better than i expected in Havana. Everyone told me that as a non-egg-eating vegetarian i would have nothing to eat, so i packed granola bars, almonds, and cranberries. True, there is not a great variety for vegetarians and the food is bland, but there is lots to eat.

When the evening came i went to the Hotel Inglaterra where, despite its gorgeous appearance has dismal service and drinks, i met with Stripes’ friend Rosalita. Rosalita had mentioned the other night some no-longer-in-production Limited Edition Cohibas she had a line on. Stripes was leaving but i agreed to meet up and get the coveted cigars. I felt like a drug buyer as a sat on the patio, trying to look casual as i stirred the sugar at the bottom of my watery mojito and eyed the crowd for Rosalita’s face, looking at my watch occasionally. The covert nature of the transaction was entirely necessary as Rosalita could spend years in prison for selling us the cigars, as could the person she bought them from. I smoked a comically large cigar, which did nothing to help the invisibility i was seeking. Finally she showed up, sat down, and ordered a beer. We chatted for a bit about tattoos and the availability of American music in Cuba before i asked, “Do you have the cigars?” She nodded and, just below table height, opened a satchel just enough for me to look in and take a deep whiff of the leathery, barn-yardy smelling cigars. I slid an envelope of money to her across the table. She passed me the satchel of cigars under the table. We finished our drinks, i declined a drive, and i made my final way home, finishing my cigar just as i put the key into the lock.

Havana has been a good trip. Not particularly different or exciting, but enjoyable and relaxing. The best part was the cigar culture and cigar experiences and having some friends there to share that with and to open doors to experiences that i would not otherwise have had. Oh, i decided to keep count of the cigars (not counting cigarillos) i smoked and coffees i drank – for no particular reason other than curiosity. 9 days, 31 coffees, 40 cigars. That adds up to a good trip.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

The Cigar Dinner Long Con

Friday was Stripes and Noodles’ final day in Cuba and they were keen to spend the morning taking full advantage of the inclusiveness of their all-inclusive and we agreed to meet in the mid-afternoon in Havana Vieja, so i had the morning to leisurely stroll about the city. It was good. I could walk without aim, stopping where i liked to drink coffee or take photos. I smoked a cigar while i walked (well, more than one), which attracted calls of “Cohiba!” “Puro. Bueno!” In addition to the usual calls of “Lady!”, “Linda!”, and various variations of that, accompanied with comments on my tattoos. Difficult to keep a low profile in the non-touristy areas, but i still got some decent photos.

I loved walking past the empty bodegas with little to sell and the anemic produce stalls, and counters selling endless sandwiches of pork on yellow bread. As touristy as parts of Havana are, it is very easy to find areas with none at all, and i was thankful for that.

Meeting up with Stripes and Noodles, we had some coffees, cigars, and drinks at one spot and then another, killing time in the pleasantest of ways until it was time for the closing dinner of the Partagas cigar festival. Noodles went back to his hotel to change and Stripes and i fixed ourselves up as much as possible (there is only so much i can do with the same sweat-soaked outfit I’ve been wearing all week) and caught a rusty, red Lada to the far edge of Miramar to, i don’t know where, some hotel.

When we arrived we joined the crowd, most of whom were wearing their finest, complete with sparkles and bow ties. We were given a cigar each and a sickly sweet green cocktail and we did some hasty mingling before going inside to the air-conditioned dining room, which was stunning, like the wedding i never wanted. The crowd really was from all over the world, with every continent represented, like a Miss Universe pageant of cigar smoking men.

We sat for a bit with two guys from Detroit – a CEO and his attorney – who had flown in on a private jet. They were quite pleasant, but they moved to a different table for dinner, leaving us three at a table for seven. And this is where the con came in. Goddess-height models began distributing gift bags of cigars, one per guest. But with two extra place settings already disturbed, we decided to create two characters who were conveniently away from the table when the bags were doled out, so they left two extra bags for our absent friends. All evening, as they handed out more and more fantastic Cuban cigars, i kept saying, smoking that my husband (Eduardo Pachanga) was in the bathroom, and they kept giving me two of everything. Of course to keep this up, we had to nibble at the extra appetizers and entrees we also got and would move napkins and wineglasses around to keep up the ruse. But it worked and we got two sets of everything. Cheezy and juvenile? Sure, but i have all of my extra cigars to help with the shame.

After dinner, they auctioned off beautiful, one of a kind humidors sticked with cigars, that went for $10,000 to $20,000 to various, high-rollers. We wisely raised our hands only high enough to puff on our cigars.

We left before the dancing started and hailed a taxi back to Parque Central with our bags of cigars and a mostly full bottle of Santiago de Cuba 20 years rum. We decided to have one more cigar to finish off our final night in Havana together, but none of the bars appealed, so we sat down in the park, on a bench, near a sleeping drunk, and smoked cigars and Stripes and Noodles drank rum from the bottle at the time neared 1am. The weather and surroundings were perfect and it a great way to end the day. At about 1:30, we went our separate ways.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Exploring Havana

Yesterday I opted to spend the day solo, leaving Stripes and Noodles to stay poolside at their hotel. I started out at the Plaza de Armas, which is my favorite plaza for coffee drinking and people watching. It is leafy, has several nice cafes and is perfect for looking out at the sellers of books, Cuban posters, and antique cameras and odds and ends.

After that i walked to a nearby Casa del Habano, which was lovely. I picked out an H Upmann Magnum 50 and sat inside, smoking and marveling at the vast selection of cigars.

From there I went on a walk along the sea and chatted with a fisherman before turning back into the city to look at the incredible number of 1950s American cars and street art.

I then went to the large Cuban modern art museum, which had 3 floors of mostly excellent modern art. A lot of great abstracts and political art, as well as a number of statues of Jesus being maimed and impaled by swords and communist sickles. (No photos allowed.)

From there I walked through an area devoid of tourists to La Epoca, a department store, where I went to the basement, which houses a supermarket. The shelves were pretty sparse and had little variety (other than rum, which was plentiful).

I then walked to this large arts and crafts market, which was a delight to look at, though there was nothing I wanted to buy.

I finished my wandering at the Plaza Vieja at a wonderful cafe that actually had a good vegan sandwich (a rare thing here). After that I went back to my casa to shower and get ready for the big Partagas festival opening dinner.

The Partagas dinner was at the Hotel National. I went there by taxi to meet Stripes and Noodles. Stripes, as it turned out, was quite sick and had to stay at his hotel, so it was just me and Noodles for the evening. The setting was lovely and the crowd was impeccably dressed – except for me. I tried to cover up the fact that I was wearing the same sweaty outfit by putting on earrings and lipstick. The attendees were from all over the world: North and South America, Africa, Europe, China, and Japan. We sat at a table with a group of men from Switzerland, which turned out to be perfect because they were very reserved. Other tables erupted into spontaneous salsa dancing and whatnot which would have made me feel quite out of place.

The food was mediocre, but the service perfect. We were given an array of limited edition cigars, endless wine and rum, and were greeted by various cigar dignitaries. There was also entertainment: colorful couples of salsa dancers and locally famous singers. We saw many familiar faces from our past few days in Havana, including El Jefe, who made the rounds, never missing a photo op. The whole thing went on for hours. I knew it was time to leave when around midnight a conga line broke out. Noodles and I had a final piña colada on the outdoor lookout, where the sea was lost to darkness but the stars were exquisite.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Cigars and the Perfect Piña Colada

Day two in Havana began with breakfast at my casa (fruit, coffee, juice, bread and honey) before going out to walk aimlessly a bit more in old Havana. Everything was quieter in the morning, but just as lovely.

I was meeting my friends, Stripes and Noodles, at the Partagas factory at noon so before that i walked out of Havana Vieja and to central Havana, where i walked around the currently reconstructed capitol building (which bears an uncanny resemblance to a certain government in the US), past some lavish hotels, then beyond, into a grid of streets which still bore the same once beautiful buildings, but they were less restored, far from postcard perfect. This was actually more to my liking in some ways than Havana Vieja – fewer tourists, more locals shopping at sparse bodegas with blaring salsa music, butchers, fruit sellers, and windows selling greasy looking pork sandwiches.

I met Stripes and Noodles at the Partagas factory. It technically is no longer a factory, with the manufacturing having been moved elsewhere, but it still houses a great cigar store and a “vip” smoking lounge. The selection of cigars was terrific and i helped myself to a Partagas Serie P No 2 as we headed into the smoking lounge. The lounge was crowded with men from all over the world, here for the same, annual Partagas cigar festival that we are here to attend. Stripes and Noodles knew a lot of these people from their past visits and so they visited and i sat and smoked and ogled the well-stocked humidor. Rum was plentiful, but i stuck to coffee.

After a long smoke at Partagas, Stripes, Noodles, a friend of theirs, and i walked to a new restaurant operated by a fiend of theirs (I’m not sure if “owned” is the right word, given that everything is owned by the government.). The walk was nice, the weather humid, but not too hot. The neighbourhood was relatively quiet and situated near the Malecon and the sea. We had lunch there at the surprisingly fancy cafe, which was great – few veg options, but i had enough to eat – and then we retired upstairs to the rooftop patio for a cigar. The spot was lovely, but unfortunately it was already populated by a group of Canadians – two dopey men and three shrill women who prattled on about their periods and shopping at Walmart. We didn’t stay long. From there we walked along the Malecon (the thoroughfare that runs along the sea) to the National Hotel. The walk was glorious. The waves crashing along the wall and drenching pedestrians in showers of sea foam. Locals had begun to congregate for the evening, listening to music and hanging out. Fishermen wrapped up their hauls before the dark set in.

Peru South America

The Belen Market, Iquitos

I never do this, but i am writing this post from Vancouver. I wrote my last post on the Peru trip in Peru the day before we went into the internet-free Amazon and then i was so sick the one day we had back in civilization before heading back that i didn’t feel like writing anything. So as i write this i am am nestled in a leather chair, with a cigar, back in Vancouver. But for now…back to Peru…

The morning before we went from Iquitos back into the jungle i went to the Belen market. I had tried to go the previous day but by the time i got there it was packing up. The next morning however i had no such problems. Belen is an area in Iquitos, partly made up of a floating village and partly made up of the sprawling market. It is unquestionably a poor neighbourhood and much of what i had read about the market before leaving for Peru was that it was too dangerous to visit alone. Of course i have heard that before and i know enough not to listen to such advice (which is usually just borne out of irrational fears and racism).

The market (a short walk from the main part of the river boardwalk) was intimidating on first arrival, only because the entrance is thresholded by a large pile of garbage and ankle deep mud. Oh well, i wasn’t clean anyway. Once inside, the market is a sensory experience, with all of the sights, smells and sounds of a jungle market (including raw meat and fish sitting for hours in the hot sun). Sure, there are the usual fruits and vegetables, plus those of the tropical variety. Then there are sacks of peppers, spices, grains, and flours. Women sit at booths and on the drier parts of the ground, selling their wares while wrangling their children.

Then there were fish – so many varieties and many so large, fresh from the amazon – being sold raw and being grilled over barrels for eating.

There were tables of outdoor, makeshift eateries, mostly with rice, fish, chicken and eggs. Then there was the butchery section, where the ground was slippery with blood and water and i was almost hit in the head with a half a dead hog being carried down a narrow aisle. I wanted to and did take pictures, but so as to not appear like a judgmental douche-bag, i smiled at all of the women and tried out my Spanish on them, identifying various body parts and smiling with approval before snapping pictures. I did see some large alligators getting butchered, but didn’t feel right taking a picture.

Then there were the aisles selling Amazonian medical remedies for everything from diabetes to impotence, depression to cancer. The remedies themselves consisted of brown powders to incense to bottles of amber liquid filled with vegetable and animal parts. There were also skulls and bones and feathers for sale and various parts of endangered creatures. Fancy a jaguar pelt? You could buy one for $40. I didn’t buy anything like that, but i did pick up some small cigars, which were allegedly rolled of locally grown tobacco.

I could have wandered around there all day, but i had to be back at the hotel to get picked up to go into the jungle, so i slowly found my way out of the merchant maze and walked back down the boardwalk to the hotel. If i had more time i would have taken a canoe tour through the floating village, but the schedule did not allow it and the jungle awaited.

Peru South America

Iquitos

Our trip to Iquitos should have taken about five hours. A short flight from Cusco to Lima and then short flight from Lima to Iquitos. There are no direct flights from Cusco to Iquitos at this time. We arrived at the airport at 5:30 am for our 7am flight, but at just after 7:00 we were told the flight was cancelled. We had to pick up our bags and check in again for another flight. The problem was, so did everyone else. The line, had we stood in it, would have kept us queued up for 3 hours. Some fast talking (and a few lies) got us out of the queue and on to a 12:00 flight to Lima and a 3pm flight to Iquitos…but the 12:00 noon flight was delayed by an hour. We did make our 3pm flight but it involved running at top speed through the airport to make the connection, which we did. Miraculously, so did our bags.

We stepped off the plane in Iquitos onto the tarmac and were hit with a wonderful blast of thick, tropical air as well as the first drops of a fantastic downpour, complete with lightning. Thankfully, shortly after checking in to our hotel the rain had stopped.

We stayed in Iquitos at the Casa Morey. It is a historic building, built originally as a mansion residence for a rubber baron at the turn of the 20th century. Iquitos was founded in the 1500s as a Jesuit missionary, but in the mid 1800s it was transformed by the rubber boom and consequently the city is filled with faded and crumbly buildings which once were splendid but now are only dim reminders of a time long past. Casa Morey has however been lovingly restored. It is covered with beautiful ajuelos and the common areas are filled with period furniture, including the lobby, breakfast room and library. The rooms by the pool are a bit more simple in decor but they are massive. Our room, which opens onto the courtyard pool, is gigantic and has 20 foot ceilings.

After checking into the hotel, we walked – in the dark – along the streets, which seem quite dangerous. Iquitos is the largest city in the world not accessible by road, so there are very few cars, but the streets are electric with tuk tuks (called mototaxis here) and motorcycles, none of which stop for pedestrians. In this and other respects it feels more like a South East Asian city than a South American one. The streets, like the buildings, are in poor repair, so we stepped carefully.

There is a marvelous boardwalk along the Amazon however. It is wide and pedestrian and lined with a mix of restaurants and civic buildings. At night the side along the river was black. We could see nothing but an inky black void. By day however the river side was revealed as the verdant, river landscape that it is.

That first night we had dinner in the oppressive humidity along the river on the patio of a restaurant and went to bed, tired after our long day of travel.

The next day before breakfast i went for an early morning walk. I crossed a wooden pedestrian bridge high above the river below. On the river was a cluster of very poor looking floating houses of wood and corrugated metal. At this time of the day many children climbed the steep stairs out if the village and up to the bridge in their school uniforms, which were impossibly clean, considering the state of the houses that produced them.

I walked along a busy street to where i saw cluster of tuk tuks and people and found that a market of sorts had emerged. People cooking and selling food for breakfast (rice, fish, chicken and eggs for the most part). People unloading fish and chickens and thousands of bananas, still connected to the tree limbs for pickup or sale. Women sitting on street selling chilies, potatos and other vegetables. It was busy and delightful. I strolled along for a while, politely declining the numerous taxi offers and headed back for breakfast at the hotel. I didn’t take many photos, because i felt so conspicuous, but i took a few when someone gave me an ok.

We spent the day in Iquitos walking and looking at the buildings and streets. There really aren’t any sites per se, aside from one building designed by Gustav Eiffel and shipped over in pieces from Europe (a building which is, in all honesty, not particularly attractive). So we just walked past shops and squares, and along the riverfront. We went to the Mercado Central and to several huts selling handicrafts and souvenirs. And we stopped a lot of fresh juices, to help with the heat and humidity. Our hotel had AC but few other places seemed to. The city is definitely run down, but it is interesting and there are reminders of its glory days past.

We enjoyed the wonderfully colorful graffiti down by the boardwalk.

In the evening over dinner at Dawn on the Amazon, a popular restaurant on the boardwalk, we eaves-dropped on various conversations, most of which had to do with ayahuasca ceremonies. A lot of travelers come to Iquitos to partake in ayahuasca ceremonies overseen by shamans and they are keen to discuss their experiences and how it has opened their minds. (Just take any 1967 era conversation about LSD and substitute ayahuasca for LSD and you’ll get the idea.) A number of westerners seem to have given up their lives back home to move here and follow this way of life. Ayahuasca is such a big thing here that many restaurants have special menus to cater to people on the drug/following the lifestyle. Probably needless to say, we did not partake, but we enjoyed listening in.

Our first whole day in Iquitos really allowed us to see everything, but we still had a half day more before going to the jungle lodge. I’ll save it for a new post.

Peru South America

Barranco

Our final day in Lima was quite relaxed. I had seen most of the things on my list so we just went for a nice meander down to the sea and than over to Barranco, a neighbourhood next to Miraflores, considered to be bohemian. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day for a stroll along the cliffs and then into Barranco. There isn’t a ton to see there, but it is a nice neighborhood with colorful buildings in just the right amount of disrepair to make them especially charming.

There is a legendary church built by fishermen in the 18th C after being led to shore safely by a phantom light. The church was built on that spot from which the light came. The church was damaged by a hurricane in the 1940s and has been left unrestored and uninhabited – except by flocks of huge, black vultures, making for a creepy site.

We walked down and around the paths in the neighborhood before settling in to an outdoor cafe under a tree, where we spent a couple of hours, relaxing and enjoying a cigar before winding out way back to the hotel through busy commercial streets, past colorful graffiti.

By the time we got back it was evening, so we went to a vegetarian restaurant in Miraflores for dinner. What it lacked in atmosphere is made up for in food – delicious vegetable soup with quinoa and ceviche made with tofu instead of seafood. Yum. My expectations for South American food as a vegetarian are so low (aside from the fruit, which is awesome) that it is a delightful surprise to be able to eat something other than potatoes and corn.

The next day we flew to Cuscso. I’ll save that for a separate post, however. All is well. Lima was lovely, but after two and a half days i was happy to move on.

Georgia Trip 2014 Poland

Return to Warsaw

My flight to Warsaw landed a bit late, at 7am. I flew through security and passport control and hopped the train to the city centre. Unlike my last layover in Warsaw, this time it was not cold and raining, but a beautiful, blue skied, sunny day. Due to this change in the weather i decided to re-walk the path from the train station up Nowy Swiat to and around the old city. Everything looked so much more beautiful in the sunshine, all of the churches and, narrow, decorative streets looked so much more colourful.

So i walked that route again, although a bit quicker than i did a week ago. I didn’t venture inside any churches in the old city this time, but the streets themselves were so much more lively, with throngs of people walking, sightseeing, and lunching, buskers, and crowds and crowds of soldiers gathering and preparing for some event. The streets were lined with flags, as were the churches and public buildings. I don’t know if it is a holiday or what, but the atmosphere was festive.

Finishing my route through the old city, i got on a tram headed across the bridge, past the zoo, and to the Praga district.

The Praga district is one of the only parts of the city that is fairly intact from before the war. It is truly the old city, with aging brick buildings, old seedy market places and wonderful graffiti, as well as an abandoned vodka factory (which is, it appears, about to be renovated into flats and offices). I also stopped by one very crowded orthodox cathedral and watched a bit of the Sunday mass, with its singing (admittedly not as beautiful as that in the Georgian churches). It was a very different walk than on the other side of the river and far less touristy. Unfortunately, it was so early that very few things were open, but it was still a lovely walk.

I probably meandered a bit longer than i should have before heading back. I got back on the tram and to the old city about two hours before my flight, but rather than heading back to the airport immediately, i opted for one plate of piergoies on the old town square, before hailing a cab back to the airport.

As i write this, i am somewhere over Sweden. It has been a wonderful trip. Georgia exceeded my expectations (seriously, it’s great, i don’t know why more people don’t go there) and My two short visits to Warsaw made me look forward to visiting Poland properly one day.

Alas, back to reality…and time to start planning the next trip.

Asia Georgia (the country) Georgia Trip 2014

Marionettes & Vodka: the final day in Tbilisi

As i write this i am on a flight from Tbilisi to Warsaw, somewhere between the middle of the night and early the next morning. Yesterday/today was my final day in Georgia. There wasn’t too much more in Tbilisi i wanted to do, but the top of my list for that day was a trip to Mtatsminda Park. Mtatsminda Park is or was a soviet era amusement park in top of a mountain overlooking Tbilisi. Apparently it was the third most popular amusement park in the soviet union. With am endorsement like that, how could i resist? (It has since been updated, although i believe some of the attractions are original.)

To reach the park the is a funicular a short but steep walk from Liberty Square. The funicular steeply and swiftly lifts you up the mountain, past a monastery, to the top. The views are excellent, looking out over the city and also looking up at the TV tower, which is, just that, a giant antenna like tower on top of the mountain, which at night is lit up with flashing orange lights.

The amusement park is small, but lovely, set in an actual park. I arrived about an hour before the rides opened, but it was still possible to walk through the park, when i took photos of the rides being set up.

The park itself is clearly not North American, as evidenced by these rather Georgian looking mice.

I waited first to ride the roller coaster, which i ultimately did three times. It is a good coaster, with a couple of sharp loops, but it is very short. I was the first one in line and was only one of three people riding.

After that i went to the “ghost house” – one of those haunted houses where you ride through in carts on rails past all manner of animatronic horrors. In that respect it was pretty standard, but, honestly, it was a bit scary, only because i was the only person on the ride and good chunks of it are in the pitch blackness (and anyone who knows me knows i am afraid of the dark). And the ride was very long. I had a lot of time to concoct a horror movie scenario in which a lone traveler rides solo through a soviet amusement park haunted house, only to be detained in some subterranean “Hostel” or “Saw” like scenario. But none of that happened. On the whole, it was a great ride and succeeded in making me uneasy, if only for my overactive imagination.

After that i rode the giant ferriswheel (super boring, but great views), and a really fun octopus, spinny ride, on which it was just me and two young boys. I then walked through a forested area that was filled with animatronic dinosaurs that ‘came to life’ as you walked by them. I enjoyed that way too much.

The park started to get busier as i left, but while i was there it was quiet and i felt like i had it to myself.

After descending via the funicular i had some more eggplant with walnuts and some potato kinkhali, before doing a bit of looking in the gift and souvenir shops, including the comically named “Georgian Patriarchy Shop” and picking up some snacks from women selling on the street.

I spent the rest of the afternoon visiting cafes and hanging out at the hostel, chatting with the other guests, all of whom have been extremely pleasant.

In the evening i went to the Gabriadze Marionette Theatre. This had been on my list since before i left Canada. The theatre (located below that crooked clock tower from a previous post), does various shows entirely with marionettes and other types of puppets. The shows are in Georgian with English subtitles and all seem to be dramatic tales drawing on Georgian history. I saw “Autumn of my Springtime” which was s tale of love, death, poverty, and justice in post war Georgia. It was so beautiful. The only thing i can compare it to is a show by The Old Trouts, for those who are familiar with that Canadian puppet troupe. The show was sold out days in advance and i am very happy that i had a ticket.

It was my final night in Tibilisi, so i was not keen to retire to the hostel. I headed off to a place i had heard about but not yet visited. There is an entirely unremarkable looking Lebanese restaurant (i won’t say where, only because i think others should have to find it themselves or be told by a local where it is). Entering the restaurant, walk confidently to the back to the kitchen. There is a dark flight of roughly hewn stone stairs heading two flights down. At the bottom you are hit with a blast of unfamiliar rock music and cigarette smoke and the room opens up into a cavernous space with low, arched, brick ceilings, brick walls, lit by green lights. There is a bar and the place is filled with young Georgians, looking like some combination of hipster, grunge, and metal, drinking and smoking. It is so cool, like something out of a movie i haven’t yet seen. I made my way to the bar and ordered vodka (vodka is, by the way, cheaper than tea and coffee here). I didn’t socialize much, aside from getting drawn into some dispute over cards, but i had a great time smoking and observing.

After that i hit one more spot, “Bauhaus” which is a cafe/bar in the old city, in one of the super grungy backstreets next to a lot that looks like it was bombed, but featuring some nifty graffiti. The place is spare, arty, and cool. There were a few groups of people in there are they were projecting silent films on the wall. I had another vodka and a cigar before meandering back to the hostel. I really can’t get enough of wandering in this city – every time i turn down a new street i discover new graffiti or beautiful old buildings, churches, cafes…always something good and interesting.

Back at the hostel, i hung out for a bit, chatting, before getting about two hours sleep and leaving for the airport.
Today i have a short visit to Warsaw and then, reluctantly, home.

Asia South East Asia 2013 Vietnam

Ho Chi Minh

What can we say but…

We arrived yesterday late morning after two flights and a layover in Taipei. We were greeted by the roar of motorcycles and horn honking as we took a car and zoomed to our hotel through the chaotic traffic – mostly motorcycles/scooters, often with multiple passengers (the most we saw on one was a family of five). Our hotel – the Bich Duyen – is on a quiet back lane off one of the main streets in the backpacker area. It is a great location and the hotel is clean and cheap and pleasant.

We went out yesterday walking through the city. We quickly learned how to cross the street against the traffic, which seldom stops. The key is: just step out into the street, keep your eyes open, but just walk ahead and trust that the hundreds of motorcycles will just part around you. So far it has worked. One time though we must have hesitated too long before crossing, as a tiny, old woman crossed the street towards us, took me and my mother by the hand and walked us back across, me laughing with fear the whole time.

The city, for the most part, is not attractive, but is very interesting. We wandered down narrow back lanes lined with what appeared to be one room houses and people cooking on the street over open coals, all manner of meat, vegetables, and tofu. There is a wonderful assortment of street snacks here – all of which looks delicious, but little of it vegetarian. Women are everywhere in their conical hats, carrying food for sale and other trinkets.

We visited the Ben Thanh market which was a maze of items for sale, including textiles, clothing, household items, and food. We sat at the low, plastic (child-sized) tables and stools outside one of the food stalls and had a bowl of vegetables and noodles, and a thickly sweet iced coffee.

We also visited a couple of temples/pagodas. The Jade Emperor Pagoda had ponds outside teeming with fish and turtles, which people fed with needlessly large amounts of bread, which floated on top of the water appetizingly. The inside was beautiful though – small and dark with carvings of Buddhas and tigers, with two altars of gold Buddhas and dozens of people making offerings of flowers and incense. The incense was thick and filled the room with an atmospheric haze. We visited a similar temple in the Cholon (Chinatown) neighborhood where we were charged by a brave rat, which sent us off on our way prematurely.

In the evening we went out for dinner and sat on a patio on a busy street, with a cigar, watching the traffic and people. It was a pleasant evening. The weather has been nice; it is hot and humid, but not oppressively so. i think it is nice.

We have just had breakfast at our hotel and will now go on a walk in the neighborhood before catching a bus to the Mekong, where we will tranfer to a boat, taking us north.

Wandering North

Tag: street art

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