Travel Archives - Page 19 of 41

Africa 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.

Africa 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.

Africa Rwanda

Kigali

In Kigali, Rwanda after over 36 hours of travel. I won’t go into a great amount of detail, but my flight from Vancouver was delayed by 6 hours, which would have caused me to miss my connecting flights. The airline couldn’t get me on a new flight for 3 days, which would have derailed my whole trip, so I hastily booked the next flights I could find to get to get me to Kigali as soon as possible to when I was meant to arrive. My flights took me from Vancouver to Montreal to Casablanca to Brussels to Kigali. In Casablanca I had to run at full speed to check in and to the gate. Had I not been traveling with just a carry on I never would have made it. But I did make it. My near travel disaster reduced to mere a travel anecdote.

In Kigali at 7:00am I met briefly with the friendliest border guard ever who confirmed that I had successfully paid for my visa in advance and I was picked up by a driver from my hotel.

I was still in a bit of a dash though as I had booked a day tour of the city, which was leaving at 9:30. So I went only briefly to my hotel: a welcoming guest house called The Nest in the Nyarutarama district.

The area is really nice. Mostly semi affluent residential with restaurants dotted throughout. Super safe, excellent for walking.

I don’t usually do tours, but I was only to be in Kigali a short time and Kigali seemed difficult to navigate on foot or transit. The things I wanted to see were all spread out and the whole city covers an erratic network of steep hills, so getting shown around seemed like a great idea. The company is called Go Kigali and the day was awesome. We met at the Marriot, where I had time for a breakfast cigar before heading out. There were 5 of us that did the day tour and we had an excellent guide. It was like having friends for the day. Friends I paid to hang out with me.

Our first stop was a local milk bar. They are everywhere and serve as a centre of daily life for many people. They serve milk, fresh from local cows, milked that day or the day before. The milk is served cold, warm, or fermented. There is actually a good article about them on Culture Trip, if you want more information.

We had the cold and fermented milk. Both were delicious and tasted nothing at all like supermarket milk. The guy whose place it was owns the cows from which the milk came. Single origin milk. To be clear, I do not drink milk, other than the almond variety. It is easily 25 years since I had a glass, but it was good.

From there we went to a local market and ate passionfruit, tiny bananas, mandarins, and tree tomatos. One member of our group struggled when live poultry was shuffled past us, as she has a bird phobia. Had trouble walking past them without being shielded. In her words (more or less), birds are unpredictable and can’t look at you straight in the face, and therefore should not be trusted. It was entertaining (and the fact that I felt that way surely makes me a monster).

We drove up mount Kigali for the excellent views, but due to a sudden, short, and punishing downpour, no views were had. We went to the Gaddafi mosque and learned about how the people who took refuge there were saved during the genocide.

Lunch at a local spot consisted of green bananas cooked with peas and carrots, spinach, beans, rice, various meat and fish dishes, and mango passionfruit juice. This was followed by excellent coffee at Question Coffee, growers and roasters. Female owned and operated.

The penultimate stop was at a lake where we took a small local boat (slowing taking on water and being bailed) to a poor neighbourhood on the other side. We were asked not to take pictures when there. It was definitely poor, with mud houses and rough dirt paths on the side of a hill, but it was also clean and tidy and all the people friendly, despite us being a bunch of weirdos walking through their neighbourhood. Apparently the city is moving people out of these neighbourhoods to make way for new developments – all part of the government’s goal to clean up amd modernize the city. I don’t know if that is a good or bad thing, but I am glad that I saw it before that happens.

Finally, we went to the genocide memorial. Even knowing and having studied it, it was informative and depressing. I don’t tend to feel much when I visit monuments or memorials to human tragedy. I’m not upset or moved to tears, as some are, but it stays with me – mainly our insatiable tendency to be horrible to one another. And the fact that we never seem to learn enough to stop being horrible. As I move about the city, I find myself doing mental math, trying to estimate how old my taxi driver, guide, or guesthouse manager was in 1994. Wondering what horrors they personally experienced. Because they must have been affected by those events. But it is not the sort of thing you can ask in passing.

I parted ways from my group and went back to my neighbourhood for a walk and dinner. Kigali really is lovely and unlike other African cities I have visited. It is so clean and orderly. Sidewalks, traffic rules followed, no litter. Plastic bags banned for environmental reasons. There are women whose job it is to sweep up leaves by the roadside. Apparently it is less corrupt than many European countries. 68% of the people in its parliament are women. I’m aware there are other stories and concerns, but on its face, it is very impressive. Now, I always say that my favourite cities are messy, disorganized, and chaotic, and that is true, but Kigali is lovely. The sort of place I can imagine living. Of course, I’ve only been here 2 days.

Central 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.

Central America / Caribbean El Salvador

La Ruta de las Flores

On Sunday, day three in El Salvador, i was set to visit the Ruta de las Flores, a string of pretty towns in the mountains, surrounded by coffee farms. This was something one would need or more than a day to do on a bus, so i hired a driver and guide to take me the route. I am not one for tours, but a private car where I can control the pace and the itinerary somewhat is ok once in a while. The bonus was that I actually got a really good overview of El Salvador’s history, politics, economics…and I got to ask all of the questions that had been brewing for the past few day.

We left El Salvador early in the morning. As it turned out, the day I picked for my tour happened to be the annual day of the Ruta de las Flores, so in each town there was music, piñatas, firecrackers, food stalls, and other festivities. It was perfect.

Each town was lovely, but I didn’t feel like I needed to stay long than I did in each place. A visit to a market, a spin around a square, a trip to a church…each town had similar attributes, but each one had their own ‘thing’ also.

In Nahuizalco we visited the market and bought some guava juice and then added a powder made from pumpkin seeds with a but of salt, which we got from another vendor in the market. Pretty good. While drinking it, a flock of pre-teen girls slowly closed in around me until I was trapped in a circle of shy giggling. My guide said they were curious about my English and tattoos.

In Salcoatitan, we had pumpkin soaked in honey. In Juayúa we visited the plaza of the yucca, where the best yuccas in the country are sold (take that, second rate yuccas!). All along the way was beautiful green hills of coffee plants.

We had lunch of pupusas at a restaurant / coffee farm, where I got recruited to be in some commercial or tv spot. My job was to listen intently as a barista explained about different coffees, and then drink the coffees, looking pleased. I was made for this. I had espresso, cappuccino, chemex, and americano.

It was pouring rain, so i just took a quick walk in the garden where the most wonderful plants were growing.

From there, we visited the final town, Concepcion de Ataco, known for its colourful murals.

On this day though there was also a high school marching band competition, so we huddled in the rain and watched costumed teens play brass band instruments and engage in choreography on rocky, muddy ground in the rain. The weather did not dampen the enthusiasm of the crowd.

My guide helped me source out some local cigars, and we drove back to San Salvador. It was a pretty perfect day.

Central 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.

Mexico 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.

Mexico 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.

Mexico North America

South of the Border: Luche Libres in Mexico City

I ended up with a four day long weekend and I was determined to go somewhere, but none of the near-to-Vancouver destinations appealed, so I looked for cheap flights to destinations that I could manage in a not-quite four day trip. And here I am en route to Mexico City.

I booked my ticket with about a week’s lead time so I didn’t do my usual months of study and preparation. I feel underprepared, but it’s kind of exciting. I realized, as I hurriedly scanned my newly purchased Lonely Płanet that I don’t actually know very much about Mexico. Just pop-culture stuff: Chupacabra. The Three Amigos. Frida Khalo & Diego Rivera. The Tijuana Brass. A handful of writers…not much about the history or politics, aside from the fact that there were Aztecs and Mayans, but I don’t know much about them. I went to Tijuana with my mother and sister when I was 11 and that was awesome. It was the first different place I went. I remember donkeys, little girls selling chicklets, and the market where I was first introduced to the concept of bargaining – the price isn’t really the price? Young mind blown. I bought a skinny leather necktie. (It was the ’80s.) And I’ve never been back. Until now.

You won’t find me at a beach or resort, but Mexico City looked like it would satisfy my travel needs. A big city with lots to explore, culture, history, inexpensive everything, and maybe a little dangerous? Great. (Actually, I think the rumours of danger are overblown, a least in comparison to other cities I’ve been, but who knows? As I write this preamble, I am still on the plane from Vancouver.)

[several hours later]

I arrived at my hostel, the Casa San Ildefonso, in the centre historico, by metro. The metro system here is great. It’s not fancy, but it’s comprehensive, fast, and cheap – a ride anywhere is 5 pesos, or about 30 cents. The thing i like best about it is that each station has its own logo. Apparently, when it was built the literacy rate was low so they gave the stations names and pictures. From the airport to my hostel this was my route in pictures: kangaroo, squirrel, water twins, water pipe, aloe, church tower, pyramid, skyscraper, shoulders man, handsome man, church, decapitated Chaplin, eagle.

I walked across the Zocalo square, flanked by impressive buildings and easily found my lodgings. Simple, pleasant, and very cheap.

I went for a walk and found the Los Vegetarianos restaurant where i finally tried mole sauce. Weird and gross at first, but then I decided I loved it.

I got in at about 5:00 and part of me just wanted to hang out, but Friday night was my only chance to take in a uniquely Mexican event: lucha libres. (Mexican wrestling) I hopped the metro to the Arena Mexico. The area was a bit rough looking, but felt totally safe. The streets were lined with food vendors, cooking up savoury snacks, and vendors selling wrestling masks. Divey bars spilled cervesa holding patrons and live rock music onto the street. I wished i had gotten there earlier to explore, but i had a show to see.

I bought a ticket, mid range, for about $13 cad and entered a big stadium filled with people and noise and roving snack and beer sellers. The show was…crazy. Lights and smoke machines. Scantily clad, curvy girls danced to rock music as each wrestler was announced to cheers. The costumes were elaborate. Wings, capes, silver boots, spandex pants with stars and skulls, and teeny speedos.

The idea is this, there are good guys (Technicós) and bad guys (Rudos) and they fight one-on-one or in groups. It is all choreographed but is quite impressive. They are like gymnasts or acrobats. The crowd goes crazy cheering and booing and yelling rude chants. Kind of like a bizarre pantomime.

I stayed for about and hour and a half, but left before it was over. I got the idea and it was quite late. I took the metro back. It was packed. It took me three tries to get on and we were crammed in. It wasn’t bad though; I was easily the tallest person in my end of the car and people were polite. They do have cars for women and children which are less full (and smell better).

Back in my ‘hood, I went for a walk around midnight (still feeling safe) and had a cigar. It was a great first day, even if it was only about 8 hours.

Africa Switzerland Tunisia Tunisia Trip 2018

Forced Relaxation in Tunis & Zürich

I returned to Tunis late and awoke the next morning with the beginning of a cold. Annoying, but inevitable when traveling, I suppose. The only good things were that I really didn’t have anything I needed to do in Tunis and I was staying at a fancy hotel (as has become my way; finish the trip somewhere slightly posh). I was staying at the Hotel Royal Victoria, right at the entrance to the medina, with a view of the square form my private balcony. I had a tv and my own bathroom and hot water. Luxury!

In the morning I gorged myself on their breakfast buffet (cold be dammed, I’m not missing out on a free breakfast).

And so, it being my last day, I decided to do some shopping. I find I am less and less inclined to buy things for myself. I have nowhere to keep them and even though that [insert exotic item] might look tempting when in the souk, when I get home, the gloss is gone and I realize that the item doesn’t fit with my real life. But I did haggle my way through the market and pick up a few items to be gifted. It was fun, but my cold was getting worse and my energy wasn’t great.

Despite that, I was determined to get a good walk in, so I picked a destination – the belvedere park – it was quite a way out of the centre but a good walk through streets away from the tourist-geared cafes and shops. It just felt like a regular city.

Belvedere park is a lovely green area with a zoo, as it turned out. I’m opposed to zoos generally and felt a bit conflicted about whether or not to go, but ultimately I did. I can’t say that part of me isn’t interested in seeing the animals, but i would rather it be under different circumstances. These were animals, exotic and otherwise, in too small cages, swimming in circles, or lying listlessly. That paints maybe too bleak a picture, but it is true. I enjoyed myself anyway.

(That picture of the guy and crocodile amused me, like why would anyone need a warning not to play catch with crocodiles?)

I walked back to my hotel, went into the medina for dinner and shisha, and spent the rest of the evening watching movies on tv in my room.

I woke up at 3:30am as I had an early flight, i slept for maybe an hour, owing to a fever, crushing headache, and an inability to breathe through my nose. I flew to Zurich and walked to my airbnb lodging, not far from the main train station, between there and Kreis 5. A charming apartment called home by a boyfriend-girlfriend architect couple from eastern Europe.

I felt like garbage, but it was a gorgeous spring day, so i walked to and around Kreis 5, a sort of former warehouse type district now populated by art galleries, eateries catering to foodies, and, on the day that I was there, an urban bicycle festival and a neighbourhood yard sale. The area is quite nice. In fact, Zurich really grew on me in my last couple of days. The historic area is beautiful and great to see, but these other neighbourhoods felt more authentic and I was charmed by them. Zurich doesn’t seem to me like an exciting city, but it is very attractive and so peaceful. Everything it quiet. There are no horns honking, no radios blaring, no loud conversations, no loud transportation. It’s almost eerie, but kind of nice. There is a lot of bike riding, people having wine at cafes, and picnics. It all seems like an ideal city. It is true that i prefer my cities dirty and chaotic, but this kind of grew on me. Or maybe it was just the fever.

I didn’t really do anything, but I walked, through that area and the into the old city. I thought about hitting a cigar lounge or going for lunch somewhere quaint, but I was feeling increasingly ill so i returned to the flat in the afternoon and spent the rest of the day and night in my room, listing to podcasts and trying to sleep through what seemed to be the flu.

Being sick at the end of vacation, which always seems to happen to me, is inconvenient but in a way it is also kind of nice to be forced to spend a day or to actually relaxing, which I would not do on my travels unless forced. And the rest was just what I needed to feel better for the next day when I would go to Liechtenstein.

Wandering North

Tag: Travel

Return to Rwanda

Masisi, the Alps of the Congo

Kigali

Walking in San Salvador after dark

La Ruta de las Flores

Suchitito

Day Trip to Teotihuacan: Pyramids to Libraries

Down Mexico Way: Mexico City exploration

South of the Border: Luche Libres in Mexico City

Forced Relaxation in Tunis & Zürich