Wandering North

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Riga: The Historic Centre and Beyond

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Europe Latvia Riga Long Weekend

Latvia Long Weekend – Riga day one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*Buildings on and around Alberta Street*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Europe Germany Riga Long Weekend

Munich Layover Part One

Latvia for a long weekend in May

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

Layover in Munich

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Europe Malta

Easter in Malta

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was an interesting spectacle.

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

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

Europe Malta

Malta Long Weekend

The Plan

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

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

Arrival in Valletta

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

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

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

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

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

Valletta Day Two

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reflections

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

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

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

Central America / Caribbean Guatemala North America

The Ruins at Tikal

I had gone to Guatemala for a week or so of work and was flying home on a Sunday, which meant I had one Saturday to do with as I pleased. There was no way I was leaving Guatemala without seeing the Mayan complex of Tikal. Guatemala has a wealth of beautiful sights to choose from and I knew I was only going to see Antigua and Tikal. The photos of Tikal have always looked so mystical: tall pyramids rising out of the jungle. I love that stuff (who doesn’t?) whether it is Machu Pichu or Abu Simbel, or Tikal, there is the allure of a lost civilization leaving exquisite remnants and just a bit of a feeling like you are Indiana Jones. It’s irresistible.

So I was determined to make it work.

I don’t recommend going from Antigua or even Guatemala City to Tikal for the day. It is a long day and while I was happy with the time I spent at Tikal, it meant not getting to spend any time in the delightful looking town of Flores, which is the gateway to Tikal. But it IS possible to do it as a day trip if you have transportation at both ends of the flight to Tikal and don’t mind starting at about 2:30am. The logistics of handling the transportation on my own seemed daunting, so I just booked a day tour, which I felt was the best option.

I was picked up and driven to Guatemala City where we gathered the others, maybe 8 of us in total. We flew in a small twin propellor plane for about an hour to Flores where we were picked up by our guide and driven to the Tikal national park.

Tikal was built between about 200 and 900 AD by the Mayans (although the site of Tikal was settled about 1000 years prior) but it was not discovered, covered by jungle, until the 1840s. It seems impossible that it could go unnoticed for so long, but even now, some of the temples are still covered by vegetation and it was only when our guide pointed them out that we knew they were there. They just looked like green hills.

It was great, walking through the trees, monkeys overhead, and then seeing a pyramid peak peeking out above the trees, or entering a clearing with one just sitting there. It was lovely. And we got to climb up many of them, which I always like, even if sometimes that seems like a better idea going up than coming down.

I don’t feel like I learned a lot on this tour about the civilization itself, but I was very happy to have a guide take us around and the people on the tour were all nice and good company. That said, no one in the group had seen the very enjoyable horror movie “The Ruins”, which was so clearly on point; it was disappointing.

(“The Ruins” is good travel horror movie where a bunch of young backpackers visit a pyramid in the middle of the jungle in Central America, only to find that the vines covering the pyramid are sentient and sacrificing the humans that invade the pyramid. I mean, come on, it’s the same thing. They may as well be selling DVDs of it at the Tikal gift shop. [There is no Tikal gift shop.]) I feel like often obvious horror movie references go unappreciated in places around the world. Like the Paris catacombs and “As Above So Below”, or the Amazon and “Cannibal Holocaust”, or the Australian outback and “Wolf Creek”, or any hostel in Eastern Europe and…”Hostel”. I could go on, but won’t.) It’s almost like other adults don’t spend all their free time at home watching trash.

Horror movie digression aside, Tikal did not disappoint. It was incredible. I would say that it was a little less impressive than Machu Pichu or Abu Simbel. Better than Teohuacan. Maybe similar in enjoyment to Borobodour. But there is not requirement to rank these places. This isn’t that kind of blog. All these places are wonderful and worth seeing.

Tikal was great. I’m glad I went. It was the perfect way to end my time in Guatemala.

Central America / Caribbean Guatemala North America

Smoking Cigars in Antigua

Anyone who knows me or reads this blog with any regularity knows that i love smoking cigars. Pretty much daily whether at home or away. It’s just one of my favourite things. This means that when i travel anywhere, part of my travel planning is researching where I can smoke and if there are cigar lounges and stores. Antigua, Guatemala is an unusual place in this regard.

Guatemala is in the part of the world where tobacco is grown and cigars are rolled, but, unlike many of its neighbours, Guatemala doesn’t really have a cigar industry. Perhaps connected to that, smoking (at least in Antigua) is mostly not allowed. Smoking is not allowed indoors and not in any outdoor courtyard. (Harumph)

Antigua has all of these charming cafes and restaurants, but, due to the style of the buildings, the outdoor areas are all courtyards (super lovely ones), which means they are smoke free. It was a bit disappointing, however, i could smoke on the patio of my air bnb and no one complained when i smoked on benches in parks, – but there were even better options.

If you like cigars and are in Antigua, your home away from home will be Antigua Cigars. It is this perfect cigar store/lounge in the historic centre of Antigua. It has a small humidor with a limited selection of Cubans and a selection of excellent non-Cubans, including their great house brand and a wide array of Plasencia cigars, which I enjoyed.

Attached to the store is a small and inviting lounge with just the right decor and music and, best of all, great people. (I swear to god, they aren’t paying me; i was just so happy there.) The owners are lovely people, a husband and wife, from Canada, and they have lived in Antigua for years. Full of great stories and hospitality. The other clientele at the lounge were mostly expats/immigrants and every single one of them were delightful company. I went there maybe 4 or 5 times in my 8 days there and felt like I had friends.

*My arm is complete again, at Antigua Cigars*

The owners at Antigua Cigars also let me in on two places that allowed smoking: one is the rooftop patio of an Irish pub called The Snug. It has a casual and fun vibe and excellent views of the volcanos and no one had an issue with my cigars.

The other place is called something like Primavera and it is a restaurant maybe two blocks from Antigua Cigars. It has a romantic courtyard with a fire and fairy lights and cozy nooks. It also had excellent food. I went twice and ate and drank more than i needed so i could keep enjoying the ambiance, which also included live music.

There is another cigar store/lounge: Cigar Boutique and Lounge Antigua. It is just half a block down from the yellow arch towards the end of the street. It has a very well stocked humidor of Cuban cigars and a nice room of leather chairs. It didn’t seem to have a crown of regulars, but was a nice place to smoke. I’m not totally sure about the quality of the cigars though. I bought four there; two were excellent, and two smoked so badly i would have bet they were counterfeit (but maybe they were just duds), and on my second visit, i found a box in the humidor that had cigars riddled with beetle holes. So i don’t think i would buy a lot of cigars there, but i would still visit and buy a cigar and use then space.

*At the Cigar Boutique and Lounge near the Yellow Arch. That Bolivar was excellent.*

I also spied a lot of egregious counterfeit Cohibas at the local crafts market. Don’t be fooled.

I smoked an obscene amount of cigars in Antigua, even if it was not as open as i might have liked. And i brought back a couple bundles of the house brand cigars from Antigua Cigars, which I am still enjoying. But the best thing, as is often the case with cigar smoking, was not the cigars themselves, but the connections made while doing it.

Central America / Caribbean Guatemala North America

Antigua, Guatemala

Prologue

I try not to mix work and travel. That isn’t always possible, and I will work on holiday if I have to, but I try to keep it minimal. But when the law firm I work at, inspired by the working for home trends we all got used to during covid, announced that we could take an extra week away in a remote work ‘workation’, I wasn’t going to let that opportunity pass by. Yes, I would have to work, but I could do it from anywhere. I realized staying in a relatively comparable time zone would be essential and I wanted to go somewhere I hadn’t been. I put on my digital nomad hat and decided on Antigua, Guatemala.

Because I spent my 9ish days in Guatemala mostly working, I’ll condense it down to three posts: one about Antigua, one about cigars in Antigua, and one about my trip to see the pyramids at Tikal.

Arriving in Antigua

I landed in Guatemala City and took a taxi to Antigua. It is cheaper to take a bus or shuttle, but my flight had been delayed by man hours and I just wanted to get where I was going with minimal hassle and delay. I chatted with my driver, Carlos, who told me mostly about the covid restrictions in Guatemala, which was masks required everywhere. Even outside and even in your own car. Of course, as he told me about this and we discovered we were of like minds, we ditched the masks. As it turned out, enforcement was minimal, so I ended up only having to mask indoors.

I had booked myself an Air BnB in the historic centre of Antigua. I am not usually a self-contained apartment rental person (I like the interactive-ness of hostels and having front desk people to answer questions and give advice; but I was there to work, so a quiet place all to myself was required. I chose well. I little one room apartment with everything I needed, including, most importantly, a pleasant courtyard with a table where I could work and a hammock where I could relax. It was simple, cute, and affordable.

That initial drive into Antigua was fabulous. It is so pretty and colorful. The whole town is a Unesco site, so nothing is out of place. All of the buildings are either low rise, colorful, Spanish colonial or grand barroco antigueño buildings. There are no billboards, no advertising, no neon – even the banks had low key signs that sort of disappeared into the overall traditional design. It looked like a movie. Or a dream.

The streets were cobbled. As we drove in, we passed the leafy central park square, which was filled with people at a crafts market, enjoying the shade, or strolling through. It seems like every block revealed some picturesque church, fruit stand, or building. And high above the buildings in the distance were volcanos – proper ones. Triangular mountains with, sometimes, plumes of smoke pouring out of the top. It was all perfect. I congratulated myself for having chosen well.

It was Saturday and it was late afternoon. By the time I left my room, it was getting dark. I used that first evening to walk around and get my bearings. I had dinner from a food cart near one of the churches (something vegetarian and spicy and crunchy with avocados for about $1) and found a cigar lounge near the yellow arch and enjoyed a Cuban cigar before walking back for bed. Antigua felt totally safe, and I did walk around at all hours of the day and night without issue.

The real sightseeing would be the next day – Sunday – before I started my workweek.

Sunday Sightseeing

As this was probably going to be my one free day to see Antigua, I didn’t have time to waste. I got up and out early. The air was beautiful. Warm and sunny, but not hot. I walked out onto the streets which seemed to be lined with trees and bursts of colored flowers at every turn. And this is on top of the colorful and cute buildings. Everything was charming.

Antigua doesn’t have a bunch of big sights or attractions. The attraction is the town itself, for how pretty and well preserved it is. And it does not disappoint. I walked up and down almost all the main streets that day, stopping into churches and cafes as I went.

The local transportation is even charming: colorful and shiny “chicken buses” (repurposed and highly decorated old formerly yellow school buses) rolling down the cobbled streets.

I visited the market at the park and walked down the street with the distinctive yellow arch, which was originally built as a passageway to allow nuns to get from a building on one side of the street to the other.

It definitely feels touristy in Antigua, but as it was still covid times, the tourists were not overrunning the place and it is still certainly a place where people live and work. Most of the people I encountered didn’t speak English (or spoke only very little). And it didn’t feel like all of the businesses were there to cater to tourists only.

There are museums, but I skipped them. I was worried about running out of time to do my aimless wandering.

I think a day in Antigua would be good to see it; two if you want to do museums and enjoy more of the restaurants; three if you want to relax. I was happy with my one day of walking and didn’t feel like I would be deprived when I sat down to work the next day. But as it turned out it was great to have the week; even though I was working, I got to experience more of the daily life and what it is like to have a routine while traveling, which was a bit novel for me.

Work Week

I’ll spare you the details of my work life, but I enjoyed this experiment in remote work. Every morning I got up ridiculously early and went on a lovely walk, each day stopping at some new café, before heading back to my abode.

I would work all day – smoking cigars the entire time – and then wrap it up around 5:00pm when I could. I work much longer days when I am at home, but I could be a bit more efficient working there as there was no chit chat and time wasting. Plus, I was motivated to finish early to I could go out.

Every evening I would walk, go to a different place for dinner or walk around some street I had missed previously, and I would go for a cigar. I have a bit to say about the cigar scene in Antigua, but I’ll put that in a separate post. Suffice it for now to say that cigars remain one of the best ways (for me) to connect with a group of people in a new place and Antigua was no exception.

Café Culture

A word about cafes: Antigua has a lot of great ones. It was overwhelming, actually. So many that were cute or historic, or trendy, or had excellent offerings of beans and methods of delivery. A lot of them had tasty food and vegetarian or vegan treats. It was great. Occasionally I spent an hour in the morning or afternoon working from the ones with wifi. I could have stayed longer to go to them all. I had this plan at one point to discuss my favourites and write little reviews, but that’s not really my thing. Just get out there and stumble on them, drink coffee, and be delighted.

Reflections

This remote work week was a nice routine. Every day when I finished work I was in a foreign city and that felt like a bonus. Like I was getting away with something.

As much as I liked Antigua, I couldn’t live there. It’s too small and I would feel trapped there not knowing how to drive; and as pretty as it is, that would lose its charm, I think. Plus, I think that when the pandemic ends, and tourism is back to normal I could see it being unpleasantly touristy, like Bali. I could probably have spent another week, but I don’t see myself looking to retire there or anything.

It was, though, relaxing. Maybe my most relaxing trip ever because there weren’t a million things to do, and I wasn’t run off my feet doing things all day. It was just work and leisurely evenings. A vacation with relaxation…what a concept. This is pretty new to me, as I tend to travel quickly. I like to learn about a place and experience it, but I don’t relax much and have a restlessness to move on. This was a different experience.

Moving on

Anyway, the last weekend I had there only gave me one more free day. I needed all day Sunday to get home, but Saturday was all mine and there was no way I was leaving Guatemala without seeing the magical-looking Tikal. But that is for another post.

Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 Serbia

One Night in Belgrade

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

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

Freedom!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Albania Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

Museum Hopping in Tirana, Albania

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*cold war bunker and a pretty pink building*

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

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

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

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

The Next Day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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