church Archives - Page 3 of 8

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

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.)

Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 North Macedonia

Wandering North Macedonia

Roadtrip!

I couldn’t resist the Wandering North/North Macedonia mashup for the title of this post, but I really wasn’t wandering North Macedonia; it was a strategic strike. I didn’t see myself doing a proper trip to North Macedonia, but a day trip from Tirana seemed perfect. I looked at options to get from Tirana to Skopje (the capital of North Macedonia) by bus and regular taxis and it is do-able but seemed like doing it in a day might be an unwelcome challenge, so I looked for a guide to take me on the day trip. I am glad I did. I got see everything I wanted to in a single day and got loads of useful information about the area.

The tour I booked was through “Go As Local“. It wasn’t cheap as a solo traveler, but it was good value. I was picked up early in the morning by colleagues and buddies Andi and Skerdi. They were delightful. They gave me lots of good historical and present-day information and answered all my questions. As a bonus, they are really great company and quite funny. They get along and have a good vibe between them that was enjoyable. They were good companions for what was a long day.

Just a bit of History

If you haven’t been keeping up with the Balkans, here’s the deal with North Macedonia (big picture only). In the 20^th century it was ruled by Bulgaria and Serbia, then became part of communist Yugoslavia. After the Soviet Union fell, it became Macedonia. The problem is, according to Greece, ‘Macedonia’ is a region in Greece and they demanded a name change to the new nation. Macedonia relented and in 2018 Macedonia became North Macedonia. In the 21^st century there have been disputes with Albanian insurgents in Macedonia seeking independence, but that seems to be resolved.

Macedonia is mostly Eastern Orthodox, with about a quarter of the population being Muslim. They speak Macedonian, which in written in Cyrillic. They have beautiful currency (the Dener).

It was a nice drive. Rolling green hills, picturesque towns, the hillside dotted with mosques.

It wasn’t a long trip from Tirana to our first stop: Ohrid.

Ohrid, North Macedonia

Ohrid is notable for being beautiful and, at one time, although a small city (or large town) it had 365 churches. One for each day of the year. I guess they just took a day off each leap year. Most of the churches are long gone, but there are some, the most notable of which is an orthodox church sitting above Lake Orhrid. We walked up a hill though streets of houses to a picturesque fort at the top, Macedonia’s super cool flag flying from top.

(I do really like their flag. A yellow circle with bright, thick yellow rays on a bright red background. It is so bold. It looks like what you might see in a comic book when someone gets karate chopped or takes a kick to the head.)

Anyway, we walked up to the fort, then through the trees, down past the church, which looked stunning over the sparkling lake, then down along a boardwalk on the edge of the lake, past wooden boats and charmingly rustic waterfront dwellings.

It is lovely. That said, I really didn’t need to spend more time there. Sure, I could imagine having a meal and a cigar at one of the outdoor, lakeside restaurants, maybe even spending a night, but I wouldn’t necessarily have seen more; only relaxed. So I prefer the way things actually transpired, which is that we sped off to Skopje.

Skopje, North Macedonia

While Ohrid is an easy day trip from Tirana, Skopje is pretty far. This leg of the journey was less picturesque, but still pleasant. I was looking forward to Skopje because, well, it looked weird. And I like weird. As it turned out all of Skopje is not weird. Much of it is normal and nice, but the part that is weird did not disappoint.

So, in 1963 a huge earthquake destroyed much of the city centre. Many years later the government undertook a project called “Skopje 2014” which was designed to give Skopje an identity, celebrate famous Macedonians (like Alexander the Great and Mother Theresa), and attract visitors.

The result is that the centre looks artificial and haphazard and like it is trying too hard to look classic and refined. Some people have compared it to Las Vegas, which is apt. Like Caesar’s Palace or the Venetian, it’s a grand and a bit tacky. It also feels a bit like a person with poor taste won the lottery and bought every ornate and fancy object they could in an effort to show off their wealth and new class.

The centre of Skopje has, on one side of a small river, a row of gleaming white neo classical / baroque buildings, each with rows of famous (?) historic figures in front. (As I understand it, these buildings are very poorly constructed and are already falling into disrepair. But, man, are they white.) There are foot bridges across the small river. Each bridge is crammed with statues of important persons. On either side of the river there are squares with HUGE statues. Like Luxor huge. Genghis Khan huge. And there are all the images you would expect from classical sculpture, but mashed up in jarring way. There are horses, lions, fountains, thrones, groups of men, solitary men, women in flowing robes, etc. And everything is just sort of plunked down, seemingly at random. It is a lot to take in.

If the goal was to connect Macedonia with important historical figures or make its history more important or to have people take it more seriously, I don’t think it was 100% successful. But if the goal was to increase tourism, I think it is a win for the diminutive nation. Instagram has tons of photos from curious travellers who seem to have been in Skopje to gawk at the weird, big statues. And part of the reason I wanted to visit was to seek the spectacle.

But there is more to Skopje than that. I really liked the area around the hammam, the Old Bazaar area, which was a pedestrian area of gently curving streets of one to two story buildings with rows of shops and some attractive neighbourhood cafes. It has a pleasant feel, even if I did get the sense that the majority of the people there were tourists.

Andi, Skerdi, and I enjoyed a coffee (and I had a small cigar) and then the three of us went for dinner in an old house serving traditional Macedonian food.

Dinner was good and it was a nice end to a great day.

Kosovo…sort of

Except it wasn’t quite the end. We still had the long drive back to Tirana, but (bonus!) we drove back through Kosovo! We went through border patrol and my passport was stamped and everything. I was delighted to be in a new country.

Did I see much of Kosovo? No. I still would like to visit Pristina and I am not writing it off as ‘done’, but I am counting it. We stopped, fueled the car, bought drinks and a bite to eat. It’s something. (I’ve been back and forth with myself on this, but I’ve decided I am counting it – and I will return.)

By the time I got back to the hostel, it was late. I think it was a 14 hour day, but well worth it. The Balkans area great in several regards, not the least of which is that the counties are tiny and crammed in together. The fact that you can visit three countries in a day is astounding. If I drove for 14 hours in Canada, I would still be in Canada.

I went to sleep as soon as possible. I had only one full day left in Tirana and I had a lot of ground to cover.

Albania Europe Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

Albanian Arrival

I arrived in Tirana, Albania on a flight via Istanbul from Erbil, Iraq (Kurdistan). It was still covid times, but the requirements were decreasing, all I needed was a PCR test to leave Iraq. Albania was, apart from a curfew of sorts, was restriction free. And I was glad for it.

Alania only really came on my radar as a travel destination in 2020 when it was one of the few countries to have almost no covid restrictions. I read about it and it looked interesting, so I picked it as my next destination after Iraq. But I didn’t really know much about Albania, I realized as the trip drew nearer. The bits of reading I had done to plan the trip and some snippets of history, but otherwise, my references to Albania were pretty much limited to the depictions of Albanians in the first two “Taken” movies (sorry, Albania) and that it was the country against which the US waged its fake war in the movie “Wag the Dog.”

The individual countries of the Balkans are still relatively new and, in my lifetime, went from the USSR to Yugoslavia to what they are now, which is still evolving. Look at Kosovo. Admittedly I haven’t kept up with the countries and cultures of the region. I was in Bulgaria in 2019, but that was pretty much it.

All this lack of knowledge made my visit to Albania all the better as I was so curious about the museums and the history, as opposed to being blasé about it because I feel like I’ve heard it all before. I was eager to cram a lot of knowledge and history into my brain in my time in Tirana. But first, I needed to get into town.

My flight landed in the afternoon. I changed some Euos into Albania Lek and walked out of the airport. I was confronted by a row of waiting taxi drivers. All 50+ in age. Each wearing a leather jacket. They had faces that said “I am unhappy to see you.” and “I’d rather be drinking.” They smoked cigarettes with hands that looked like they had been used to hammer in nails. They weren’t rude at all; just tough, and matter-of-fact. A local guy later reminded me that all men of a certain age have all fought in war and are ‘hard’.

I stayed in a private room at the Tirana Backpackers Hostel. I recommend it. The location is perfect; maybe a two minute walk from the main square and surrounded by cafes and bakeries, restaurants, and amenities. The hostel itself has a very welcoming hippy vibe and is strictly vegetarian (i.e. no meat allowed and group veggie meals prepared each evening). I was walked around and introduced to visitors from all over the world, each of whom seemed genuinely happy to see me. It felt a bit like an orientation to a friendly cult, but I was in.

The hostel is in a cozy old house with a ramshackle backyard, welcoming living rooms, and a sweet dog. My room was chilly, but my bed came with at least 100 heavy blankets and I felt snuggly and ready for sleep when the time came.

On that first day I walked around the main sights and got my bearings. My original plans had me spending 3.5 days in Tirana, but due to a flight cancelation that became 2.5 days and one of the days I would spend in North Macedonia, so I really had only 1.5 days in Tirana. It proved to be fine, but I was busy seeing stuff.

Tirana makes a decent first impression. It is not super beautiful but feels interesting and alive. And it feels like it is evolving – rapidly. Objectively ugly, yet appealing to me communist era apartment buildings were mingled with new, modern architecture. Actually, Tirana’s skyline was dominated by cranes when I was there. New high-rises going up everywhere. Discussions with residents confirmed my question, which was ‘who can afford to live in these places?’ Answers were not forthcoming.

I strolled around the main square (Skanderburg Square), taking in the varied architecture. On the square, most notably is the Opera House, which also has a good bookstore and restaurant, the National Historical Museum, and an unusual mosque. The museum has an excellent mosaic on the front, but it was under repair when I was there, so I had to make do with a picture of it. Presiding over the square is a huge statue of Gjergj Kastrioti (aka Skanderburg), the military hero from the 1400s who led a rebellion against the Ottomans and who is legendary for his battle prowess.

I walked past a massive, nearly complete mosque under construction and looped along the river to find the Pyramid of Tirana. The Pyramid is (was) one of Tirana’s most famous sights. It was built in 1988 as a museum to honour the recently deceased Communist leader/dictator Enver Hoxha. After the fall of communism, it became a conference centre and later was used by NATO in the war in 1999. It fell into disuse for many years but sat empty and covered with graffiti. Sort of a broken monument to former times and photo op for backpackers. When I was there, however, the Pyramid was being gutted and incorporated into a new commercial building. Preserving a bit of the dark past and merging it into the future. It was surrounded by high construction walls, but a security guard let me in to walk around, telling me I was beautiful. Some women get jewelry or dinners – I get invitations to off-limits construction sites.

I had a coffee and some nibbles at the Kometiti café, which is delightfully filled by antiques and has a great atmosphere and then walked past the House of Leaves (more on that later) and visited a large, new church.

It was getting to the time when the museums and whatnot were closed but I was happy to just get a sense of the city on foot. I talked with one young man in the square about the city and the construction and where I should wander.

I ended the day at the Radio Bar, which was recommended. Honestly, I didn’t love it, but my time there was improved by the fact that I could smoke my cigar inside (a non-Cuban cigar, I forget the name, that I had purchased in Erbil days earlier) and that I spent my time talking to a young duo of friends from Albania – she a law student in Germany and he a medical student in Tirana. They were good company gave me lots of insight into the impressions of young people in Albania (which, according to them, and in a nutshell, is that most want to move to other parts of Europe) and cynicism about government.

It was a good first day. I didn’t visit much inside, but that would change on day 3, when I would hit as many museums as I could. I didn’t stay out late, as technically the bars and restaurants were still under an early closure curfew due to covid. (The only restriction that Tirana seems to have.) Plus, I had to get up early for a long day trip to North Macedonia.

Europe Ukraine

Escaping the Lavra and Leaving Kyiv

I flew back to Kyiv from Lviv. A short flight; less than one hour. And I was back in Kyiv. Back at the Dream Hostel. I has already done nearly everything that I wanted to do in Kyiv, with two exceptions: I wanted to visit the Kyiv Pechersk Lavra and I needed to get a Covid test to return home.

The Pechersk Lavra

The Lavra is a monastery complex that sprung up around the original cave monastery founded in about 1000. It is filled with stunning churches and sacred caves. Judging by the number of bearded and black robed priests wandering about with staffs or chalices, it is an operating religious site and not just a series of photo opportunities (though it is great for the latter as well).

To get them you take the metro to the Arselana station, which is often proclaimed to be the deepest subway station in the world, although I have read that there is one deeper in Pyongyang. Even if it was not the closest stop to the Lavra, I would have made a point of going there to the [second] deepest metro station in the world.

From the metro, it is a nice, easy walk to the Lavra, past various cafes, past one of the coolest Soviet hotels I have ever seen, and through a lovely park, with statues, a Holocaust memorial site, and excellent views of the city.

The Lavra, as I mentioned, is churches. Several of them, most of them open to the public, and all but one, which was purely historical, are full of worshippers. Mostly women it seemed, in colourful headscarves, lighting candles and standing in silent prayer.

There are also a few shops, a giant silver egg, like a Ukrainian disco ball, and a bell tower that regularly proclaims itself with peals of extended chimes.

Most unique to the site were the monastery caves. They are a labyrinth containing small churches and altars, and narrow corridors, lit by candles. In addition to the shrines and rows of mummified monks, covered in ornate blankets and lying in glass coffins. There were a lot of people visiting when I was there. We queued up and descended single file into the bowels of this church, descending down in a corridor that was very narrow (no room for passing or changing your mind and turning around) and barely tall enough to to stand in. I am not claustrophobic, but moments like that is it possible to not be suddenly and keenly aware of the lack of space and means of escape? And to make things worse, everyone but me was carrying a thin, lit, candle. Ok, maybe I was being too safety conscious, but all I could think was how each person was inches from the next, with scarves and hair flowing, and…open flame? This seemed like a situation with an inevitable, macabre ending.

People gathered – no, tightly clustered – in a small chapel room, and then filed down the coffin-lined corridors. No photos were allowed. I was happy to be there, to see this sight, but I also wanted to get out before I suffocated, burned to death, or was trampled. So I did the loop without much stopping, and emerged into the light.

After the Lavra, i walked to the park and viewpoints around the Ukrainian State Museum of the Great Patriotic War, which was moderately worthwhile. I stopped for a falafel on the way and to view a collection of Ukrainian tanks on display. I popped into a craft market, and finally went to the Kyiv food market, which is like a gourmet food court with live string music.

I also spent a good part of my final day trying in vain to repair, and then replacing with sneakers a very cool and very new pair of Kat Von D boots that fell apart completely shortly after purchase. On the plus side, I now know how to ask for duct tape in Russian.

A few more pictures from my final day in Kyiv…

PCR Test

The covid test was not so easily sorted on line. I reading about how there were many clinics in Kyiv offering the PCR test, but could not determine which ones there were or which test they did, or how to secure an appointment. Through word of mouth though I did find a clinic (Synevo. All around the city and, at the time of writing, drop in PCR tests were done and were very cheap) and I walked there to make the inquiry. I returned the next day for the test and had my results (negative) within 12 hours.

Other than walking to and from clinics, I spent my final two days in Kyiv, walking and eating and not much else. I had done what I came to do and more.

I thought Ukraine was great. It was a good European holiday but at Mexico prices and without a big list of ‘must sees’ it was more about easy discovery, which meant that everything was delightful and nothing disappointing.

Return and Quarantine

Upon return from Ukraine, due to the Canadian laws at the time, I was required to spend 3 days in a government approved hotel as a quarantine facility and then 11 days at home, during which time I could not leave – not even to take out the trash. I had expected the quarantine to be torturous, but it was surprisingly fine. The hotel portion was very expensive ($1900 for 3 days, including food) but it was such a fabulous hotel that I did not want to leave. It even had a 9th floor patio on which I could smoke cigars while looking out at the ocean.

The home quarantine was inconvenient, but passed quickly. It is an experience I hope not to repeat, but for my first international trip in a year, it was well worth it.

Europe Ukraine

In Love with Lviv

I arrived too early on my night train. The train I took left at the best time for me and had only one stop but it got me in at like 6:00am. I should have booked a hostel room for the night before so I would have a room to go to. But instead I took a tram from the train station to the town centre, grabbed a coffee from the one place I found that was open at that time a day and sat in the town square for a while, watching the city wake up, feeling a little like Belle at the beginning of Beauty and the Beast, except that I didn’t want to leave.

I was instantly smitten with Lviv. It is so pretty. Like any of those really pretty small European cities. It has charming narrow streets lined with inviting cafes and eateries, spilling out onto the street. Beautiful buildings. Really old churches ranging from haunting to impressive. Quaint town squares. Lots of flowers. It’s just wonderful.

I was so happy to walk around. Kyiv was cool and impressive but Lviv was charming.

I ate some great meals there, from traditional Ukrainian to excellent Italian to a really wonderful Armenian meal. And everything was so in expensive. Like I had a meal with salad, pasta, and wine at a really cute place and it was like $12 Canadian. Kyiv was also very inexpensive but it really hit me in Lviv.

Oh, and Lviv has tones of excellent coffee shops, ranging from cute to cool, but all with a real focus on excellent coffee, like you would find in any more famous coffee city. (And chocolate shops. Lviv is famous for them.)

There isn’t much in the way of “must see” sights in Lviv. You kind of just go because it is lovely. I was happy to see the churches and soak up the atmosphere.

An excellent little cafe selling bread items filled with meat, cheese or fruits

On my first day of walking around I spotted the big opera house, took a photo, and figured it would be closed due to Covid-19…but it wasn’t. It was open and there was a show on that night.

I was thrilled. Because of the pandemic, I hadn’t been to a live show in a year or more so I decided to see this show, whatever it was. What it was was a show called When the Fern Blooms, from the 1970s, but banned by the Soviets, so it is only in recent years that it has been produced.

I can’t tell you what it was about. I don’t speak Ukrainian and it didn’t have surtitles, but it was clearly very patriotic. It started off well, but honestly it ended up corny, and reminded me of cheesy 1970s sci-fi movies mixed with the big number at the end of the movie Stayin’ Alive. But the good things outweighed my criticisms. It was opera, I was there, I was entertained, and…In the interest of social distancing I bought myself an entire opera box and paid very little. It was either $30 or $60 Canadian. I felt like a king. A masked king.

I stayed at the Lviv Dream Hostel, which was excellent. Perfect location, great amenities and hangout areas, as well as maybe the cleanest hostel kitchen I have ever seen.

There weren’t many backpackers there but lots of people who were in Ukraine working remotely because life was better there at that time than in their own countries, in terms of the pandemic. One guy, an accountant from San Francisco, was told by his employer he would have to work remotely for at least another few months, so he decided to work remotely from Europe. Why not? The place just had a great hostel atmosphere, even if the style of traveller was a little different at that time.

On my next day, I had planned to visit the yard of lost toys, which became pretty blog and Instagram famous as a courtyard in a residential neighbourhood where people had collected and put on display a group of ever-changing lost toys. I found the courtyard, but the toys were gone. I would like to think they all found homes, but the truth is, the residents probably got tired of looky-loos tramping through their backyard. And rightly so.

I did carry on however and visited the Lychakiv cemetery, which is excellent. It is a huge cemetery, still in use, but dating back to the late 17th C. It is massive and very green and peaceful. Perfect for a walk. I was lucky enough to come across some gathering (not a funeral) that involved passionate singing.

That evening I just meandered around and had a meal and cigar. Enjoyed some wonderful traditional music from a busker. I had enough time there and I feel no need to return, but I really loved my time in Lviv.

When I left, instead of the train, I took a short, cheap flight back to Kyiv.

Europe Ukraine

Kyiv, Ukraine

I liked Kyiv instantly. I don’t know if it is because I already have a fondness for former Soviet cities or because my maternal grandparents were from the Ukraine or if it is just because it is awesome. Probably a mix of those things. It had everything I wanted for my first international trip during COVID. It felt like Europe, but distinctly Eastern Europe with imposing architecture, a good bustle, ornate churches, nightlife, and a bit of a sense of order. Normally I prefer chaos, but in a time of such caution about travel, a bit of order seemed prudent.

As a Canadian I didn’t need a visa to enter the country, so I breezed in. My COVID test was checked, but only briefly. Soon I was in a taxi, with a new passport stamp, on my way to my hostel in Podil.

Podil is the oldest part of Kyiv and was a great place to stay. I could walk basically everywhere I wanted to go – to all the main churches and squares. And it is a great area of restaurants, cafes, and a bustling nightlife. It was also the location of a proper cigar lounge – a bonus for me.

I was staying at the Dream Hostel Kyiv. It was great. Easy to find and close to all sorts of things. It has a cafe and court yard, good wifi, hot water, a kitchen, laundry, and a proper hang out area, where people were actually hanging out. It would seem that even during COVID, hostels are still a thing, as they were before. When I originally booked this trip a year before, I was going to stay in a dorm, but I figure with the COVID hoopla (and I was only half vaccinated at this point) a private room would be better. It was. I still shared a bathroom, but that seemed ok. Technically masks were required inside, but they were generally not worn. I stayed there at both legs of the Kyiv part of my visit.

The hostel was on a long, historic and hilly street called Andriivs’kyi descent, the bottom of which is in Podil and the top connected with the centre of town, as marked by the stunning Saint Andrews Church, which was the first of many stunning churches that I visited.

Seriously, I went to so many churches, I am sure I have some sort of Orthodox Christian brownies points, notwithstanding a lifetime of dedicated sinning.

I won’t break it down day by day, as I was in Kyiv for about 4 days and I spent most of it wandering; not entirely aimlessly, but from church to park to monument to art gallery to market, making significant detours along the way, as interesting things popped up.

Kyiv is a serious cafe town and I drank an obscene amount of espressos whenever I wanted a break or some wifi.

I delighted in the architecture. Seldom was it quaint or charming, but it was often impressive, overwhelming, and ornate.

It really is a great city for walking. Relatively easy to navigate, with surprising hidden bits. I was looking, for example, for some gallery that I never found, but in what looked like a courtyard car park I found a charming bookstore/cafe. I stumbled upon street art and gardens.

*bird statues in a park I found by accident*

Make no mistake. This is a big city and I did a lot of walking, but it was always worthwhile, even when I did not find what I was looking for, I found things I didn’t know I wanted.

The public transportation was excellent. There is a vast subway system with stations that tout themselves as ornate. I qualify that statement not because they are not attractive (they are) but because once you have been to Moscow, all other subway stations have to be considered in their shadow.

Because Podil is at the bottom of a long hill, there is a handy little funicular to whisk one from the sea to the centre. The walk is also fine but I do love a funicular. I should mention that, like all things, transportation was very cheap in Kyiv. A ride on the subway or funicular was 8 hryvnia or about 35c Canadian.

One of the things I loved about about Kyiv is the smoking culture. This is a place where people smoke. You aren’t supposed to smoke inside, but outside it was totally fine and no one even gave me so much as a disapproving glance for lighting up a cigar over breakfast, for example, provided I was on a patio. It was great.

I really felt like I fit in, which is odd, as usually I’m in places where I stand out more as being from somewhere else. But in Kyiv, as a pale-faced, spiked leather jacket wearing woman with dyed black hair, I looked like a local. This was to the point where people were asking me for directions, which I took as a badge of pride. Hopefully I didn’t set too many people off in the wrong direction.

Most of my evenings were spent wandering around Podil, which each night seemed like a party, with buskers, streets teeming with people, and on many nights, a literal dance party just in the middle of the street.

And on one night it was an actual festival of sorts complete with a stage with live music and some traditional dancing.

At the beginning of my trip I spend just a day and a half in Kyiv before taking a day trip to Chernobyl and then a night train the following day to Lviv. Fresh posts for those places.

Just a note on spelling. It used to be Kiev, which is the Anglicized version of the Russian spelling, but after Ukraine became independent it switched to the Ukrainian spellings (or, for foreigners, the Anglicized versions of the Ukrainian spellings), so it is now Kyiv and not Kiev. People didn’t seem too bothered about it in Kyiv where Russian was the most prevalent language, but in Lviv, people very much wanted things to be spelled in the Ukrainian way. And rightly so.

Europe Ukraine

Travel in Ukraine (during covid)

I waited, I followed the rules. I cancelled my international trips and bided my time for a year during covid-19 … until I couldn’t any longer. What if it went on another year? Was I really going to stay home because the government advised not to travel? Or because I was put off by a legally mandated hotel quarantine (followed by a home quarantine)? By a plethora of covid tests? No. After a year I decided for myself that it was time. So I booked and took one of my cancelled trips from 2020 and in 2021 I went to Ukraine.

My packing list changed somewhat. I brought masks for the flights and a computer in case I got stranded and had to work. My pre-travel planning was overwhelmed by figuring out what tests I needed and when to meet the requirements of Canada, Ukraine, and KLM. And I bought mysterious covid health insurance as required from the Ukrainian government. None of this was any more difficult than figuring out how to get visas for West Africa or traveling to the Congo during Ebola, for example, so I felt well equipped, but there was extra hassle, cost, and preparation involved. I was delighted though because I was going to leave the country for the first time in 14 months.

I flew from Vancouver to Amsterdam and then on to Kyiv. The first flight was empty. Shockingly so. Everyone who wanted a row to themselves had one, with rows in between. It was a nice way to fly, but you can’t help but think about his much the industry is suffering. Everyone wore their masks without complaint. It was orderly and pleasant.

The flight from Amsterdam to Kyiv was different. It was packed and masks appeared to be optional. I mean, they weren’t, but people just didn’t wear them, or wore them as a sort of chin warmer. The flight attendants didn’t even try to fix the situation beyond saying at the start of the fight that masks were required. I think they have given up. Coming from Canada where people are so obedient, it was a bit of a shock, but I wore my mask, so I felt ok about it. If I had gotten worked up it probably would have spoiled my trip because people in Ukraine really didn’t follow any of the covid protocols. On the subway people were pretty good about masks, but indoors elsewhere … it was like there was not even a pandemic on.

People were bald-faced (or at least with their masks worn on their chins) and in close proximity. Bars and restaurants were crowded and spilled out on the street. People crowded, smoking, around tall tables, drinks in hand. Or they danced in groups, recklessly breathing into each other’s faces. The common areas at my hostel still had groups of backpackers hanging out, going to parties, and bunking in dorms. There were no plexiglass barriers. No socially distanced queues. A girl on the street even high-fived me after she borrowed my lighter. It was kind of great.

I am well aware that at the time I was there, Ukraine had one of the worst covid outbreaks in Europe, so their disregard of pandemic rules was probably not great at all, but for me it was a welcome sight. A reminder that life could be normal, that it was relatively normal elsewhere, and maybe Canada would again be normal. It was a jolt out of the relentless pandemic ennui I had been languishing in at home.

I should say that in most restaurants the servers did wear masks and I did stop by one fancy mall (to use the washroom) and they required masks and took my temperature, but those were definitely the exception. I did wear masks inside when I couldn’t socially distance and I sanitized my hands and whatnot. Getting sick would have meant not being able to fly home. So I was careful, but I enjoyed it when others did not.

I am mentioning this all right off the top in my first Ukraine post because I don’t want to keep talking about it in my other posts. This is the way it was. It was the middle of a pandemic and it did affect my trip, but it was not the dominant characteristic of it. There is more to say that is not about coronavirus, so let’s get to that in a fresh post.

me. happy to be in a plane. I know I don’t look it, but that is my happy face.

Africa Benin West Africa Trip 2019

Cotonou, Benin

Ouidah to Cotonou, Benin was another easy shared car. I just stood by the road, put my hand out and within a minute I had a ride. Again it was a car of five men and me, but this time I got to ride up front.

The thing about Cotonou is that it is big, so when we arrived by car, they dropped me off at a large intersection but I had no idea where I was. I tried to get my bearings, but my paper maps for Cotonou were not detailed enough and there were no landmarks in view. Fortunately – and I am not saying this to boast of my preparation but just because I recommend it in general for traveling in counties where you don’t speak the language and transit infrastructure is lacking – is that at least I knew of two landmarks near my hotel. The moto drivers who approached me all knew the Etoile Rouge, a big traffic circle with a communist tower in the centre. One of the few recognizable landmarks.

I took a moto there, then found my street and started walking toward the hotel. Or so I thought. The smaller streets are named according to some pseudo-dewey decimal system that matched up to neither of google maps nor lonely planet’s. Thankfully (another humble brag) I had taken a screen shot of my hotel, so I just walked until I saw a white 3 storey block-ish building. Success.

I was staying at the Hotel Saint Jean, which is a functional hotel of no particular charm near-ish to the Etoile Rouge and the crafts market. The neighbourhood itself is not full of sights, but it is a terrific transit route and is full of restaurants. I liked it. And, as usual, the people at the hotel were so nice and helpful. I think I was a bit of a curiosity to them as I was the only person staying there who was not in town for an educational conference. I loved that outside the hotel all day and in to the evening women would sit ant cook up various meals over fires at the roadside.

I spent four days in Cotonou. I did day trips (to Ganvié and Porto Novo) on two of those days and spent two just in the city. Cotonou is very spread out so it takes some time to see. The good thing is, you can get around for a pittance on the motos. The bad thing is, if you are averse to riding helmet-less on the back of small motorbikes with strangers, you are kind of screwed. There is no bus system or metro and car taxis are few and far between. Fortunately, I am happy to play fast and loose with my cranial security.

Mostly in Cotonou I picked things and areas that I was interested in and I wandered around. I really liked it there.

I went to the cathedral, which is one of the other main landmarks due to its candy cane exterior. I also had a screen shot of that on my phone that I could show to drivers, which came in handy.

From there there was lots to walk to. Supermarkets and gelato shops, a wonderful riverfront with a breezy patio at the Hotel Le Berlin where I smoked and read, watching fishing boats pass by.

*sitting on the patio at Hotel Le Berlin*

I walked to the Danktopa Market. Passing, along the way numerous inviting cafes and the grand mosque.

The market is a sprawling, crowded chaos of everything a market should have and some thing it shouldn’t, like a smaller but decidedly less touristy fetish market, complete with all the skulls and dried dead things you could desire.

I am glad I went to the market, though it was the one place I could not relax. Upon arrival I attracted a dozen or so rotating shop keeps who followed me trying to convince me to look at their wares. Mostly they kept trying to sell me knock-off designer handbags and clothes, in which I couldn’t be less interested. I might have stayed longer, but I just couldn’t get the anonymity I craved. Maybe I was naive for thinking I could.

I went to the artisanal crafts market, which is a great place to walk around even if you are not shopping. It is leafy and quiet and there are at least 3 good places to sit on a patio and eat and drink. There I smoked cigars and had some good conversations with assorted characters. What I really enjoyed, and never tired of, was watching the women with impossible items stacked on their heads as they walked with fierce confidence, like they were wearing some grand chapeaus from the Paris runway.

From there I walked to the Institute Français, which had a photo exhibit. En route though I walked past the army barracks, where I was invited to some in for a drink at the mess hall with the soldiers. I have to be honest – I declined, and I kind of regret it in hindsight, but at the moment I was confused by the combination of inviting ambiance, a cordial invitation, and the abundance of fatigues and firearms.

Much like in Ouidah, there was a Fondation Zinsou, which had wonderful modern art and a superb cafe / shop.

Aside from just walking around, the only other area I purposely visited was the Cadjehoun neighbourhood, which is where the embassies and bars and eateries for expats and travellers are. It is a nice neighbourhood with fancy white houses surrounded by high walls and armed guards, flowering shrubberies, luxury cars, and some pretty nice patios and restaurants. It was worth it for the nice pizza but it was my least favourite neighbourhood in Cotonou because it both lacked local character and felt kind kind of unsafe. The presence of armed guards means that something bad is expected to go down. In the rest of the city, that was not the case.

Two busy days in Cotonou was enough, but I used my two extra days to visit Ganvié and Porto Novo, each of which were wonderful in their own right.

Benin was the basis for this whole trip and it did not disappoint, even if I did not get to see anything in the way of voodoo magic.

Tag: church

The Plan

Arrival in Valletta

Valletta Day Two

Reflections

Prologue

Arriving in Antigua

Sunday Sightseeing

Work Week

Café Culture

Reflections

Moving on

Roadtrip!

Just a bit of History

Ohrid, North Macedonia

Skopje, North Macedonia

Kosovo…sort of

The Pechersk Lavra

PCR Test

Return and Quarantine