festival Archives - Wandering North

Belarus Belarus/Dubai trip 2023 Europe

Pomp & Propaganda: Victory Day in Minsk

As the man at immigration at the airport was kind enough to remind me, my trip to Minsk overlapped with Victory Day. This was not intentional, but I am so glad it worked out this way. Victory Day in Russia many years ago was fine – lots of parades – but this was a whole experience.

Victory Day is, of course, the anniversary of the day (9 May 1945) that the Soviets defeated the Nazis in WW2, and it remains a point of great pride. I have been told that Victory Day celebrations have become more of a celebration in recent years, as Belarus and Russia have gotten closer. I can neither confirm nor deny this, but I can say that experiencing this spectacle is to feel transported to the feeling of being in the Soviet Union in the good times. I loved it. Apparently I am easily influenced by rousing anthems in foreign languages. I have not defected, but I did have a great time.

On Victory Day eve, I was out at night looking for a place to have a cigar and found that there was a stage set up in a square on Independence Avenue a crowd of people watching. I wandered over to have a look and ended up standing there for an hour. On the stage was a series of music and dance performances, each celebrating Belarus. Young women in traditional costumes danced in front of videos of wheat fields accompanied by gentle ballads. Powerful torch song were sung while soldiers and their lady loves danced and played out silent dramas of relationships torn apart by noble wars. Choruses of children sang in front of waving flags. The best though were the lively songs where men, dressed as army and navy men danced acrobatically: high kicking, and doing that traditional Russian dance where the men cross their arms and get low to the ground, while kicking out their legs. (Like the move John Travolta pulled off in Saturday Night Fever.) Flips, endless twirls, and tight choreography. It was excellent.

But that was just a taste of what was to come. The next day there was a procession to Victory Square, where people gathered. Powerful Soviet anthems played. People waved red flags – some with the hammer and sickle. Some people sombrely carried placards with pictures of Lenin and Stalin on them. People carried photos of their relatives who had fought and died in wars. A couple of ancient, thin men walked with help through the crowd, wearing old army uniforms, dripping with medals. Everyone wanted pictures with them. It was so showy, so affecting, that I started to wonder if it was real. I mean, it certainly might have been, but also, could some of these flag wavers and portrait bearers be government actors and the whole thing designed to rally patriotism and militarism? With the Russian/Ukrainian war just to the south, it seemed possible, but I can’t say.

I felt energetic from the song and the false feeling of camaraderie. I had my photo taken with a soldier and a little girl in soldier costume. I pinned a ribbon to my jacket. I took a ton of photos.

After a while though, as the crowds grew, I decided it would be prudent to get away from the spectacle. Soldiers were starting to close off streets and I noticed a lot of plain clothed police or security guys posted around the square who weren’t there before. I thought maybe the president was about the make an appearance and I didn’t want to get fenced in, so I took off, through a park where the merriment continued, and then just away altogether, to an art gallery and café.

The President did come, but earlier in the day; nothing of any concern happened, but I always think it’s good not to me in the middle of any big, politically charged crowd, even if the music is great.

I hadn’t planned it, but the Victory Day celebrations were a highlight of my time in Minsk. I do think it is largely propaganda, but well done; and I left before I enlisted for anything, so I just got to feel like I time traveled to the 1940s and then carried on in the present day.

I ended the day bar at my new favourite bar in Minsk, with a cigar and the company of people who cared more for whisky than war.

On my way back to my hostel I caught the fireworks from a bridge.

The next day I would leave all of this behind to see some countryside and castles.

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.

Central America / Caribbean El Salvador

La Ruta de las Flores

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

The Cigar Dinner Long Con

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Smoking not Eating

Yesterday i was super low energy, as i was suffering from a mixture of mild food poisoning and sleep deprivation. Nevertheless it was a good day. I shuffled my way over to the Partagas factory to meet Stripes and Noodles at the vip room for some Cohiba Behikes and coffee. We chatted with El Jefe a local photographer who showed us his work, and a doctor from Canada. After a couple hours there we went by taxi to a Casa del Habano run by the son of Alejandro Robaina, which was a treat. Noodles and El Jefe had lunch; Stripes and i, having no appetite, stuck to smoking. We has some piña coladas, more Cohibas and a Robaina torpedo. The humidors there were exquisite, featuring many cigars i had not seen in years. We sat there for hours smoking, and drinking (me mostly water). It was very relaxing.

We were going to catch a taxi back to Havana Vieja and call it an early night, but we saw a beautiful restaurant and decided to check it out. It was in a grand 1930s house but had opened as a restaurant only 11 days earlier. We settled in for more cigars and snacks. Surprisingly, the food was cheap and amazing. The food in Cuba is not good, but this was a welcome exception. I even managed to eat a few nibbles of cheese, bread, and olives.

From there we hopped into a 1950s chevy (not a taxi, just some guy’s car) and went to the Parque Central hotel for one final drink (me, more water) before Stripes and Noodles caught a taxi to their far flung hotel and i walked home for much needed sleep.

Central America / Caribbean Cuba

Exploring Havana

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Europe Luxembourg

Vianden

On Friday morning, after a hearty breakfast I took two buses to get to Vianden, which is Luxembourg’s most popular tourist destination. Why is it popular?

That’s why. Because there is a big 12thC castle on a hill surrounded by a little medieval village. It is perfect. The air smells of leaves and woodsmoke and grilling meats. There were virtually no tourists, so i felt like i had the town to myself. I visited the castle and took a chair lift up to the top of a mountain for coffee. I visited the house where Victor Hugo lived while in exile. (Apparently he wrote Les Miserables there.) and i just generally wandered around, because that’s all there is to do. My hotel (the Hotel Heintz) was absolutely delightful, so i relaxed there before going out for dinner. After dinner i hopped between three different bar\cafes, enjoying wine, coffee and cigars. (Cuban cigars are about half the price that they are in Canada, but there are not alot of shops that sell them.)

The town was all abuzz though getting ready for the annual Nessmoort (Walnut Festival). They were setting up booths and there were walnut related products everywhere–liquors, sweets, roasted nuts etc. Apparently it is a big deal and they have been doing it for centuries. (Actually, they are festival crazy in this town; apparently they relish in any excuse to get dressed up in medieval costume, drink and eat sausage.)

Anyway, i arrived back in Luxembourg city this morning. I am staying at a new hotel, the Hotel Simonici, which is very modern (everything is white) with lots of art on the walls. It is very nice, although my room is tiny.

The city is lively today. Hundreds of Swiss soccer fans are running wild through the streets and forming marching bands. I went to an antique market in one of the squares (mostly junk, but it was fun to look), and then i had lunch. At lunch I met this Irish girl who has invited me to join her and some friends for drinks later, which I may do depending on my mood.
Tomorrow I return home.
I may write again later…or not.
d

Europe Portugal

Boa Morte

Sunday in Coimbra is a quiet day, unless you are a church goer. All of the shops and most of the cafes & restaurants are closed. Thankfully, we completed the majority of our site seeing yesterday, so today we really didn´t have anything planned except continued exploration of the city. It was again a bit chilly and drizzly today, so after an excellent breakfast at our B&B we walked around for several hours before returning ´home´ for a nap.

We were awakened by the sound of a marching band parading through the streets. They were very near to us but from our window we couldn´t see them, even though we saw people from a street over looking down on the random parade.

At about 4pm we went out and one of the small pedestrian, residential streets that we have passed frequently was suddenly enlivened by a path of carefully arranged flowers and leaves leading down the winding road. We saw a couple of elderly women laying out the flowers. We discovered that this was in honor of an old ritual, the Festa Na. Sa. Boa Morte, which is an annual procession from a cathedral in honor of the virgin Mary. We went to the church and sat for about 45 minutes of the mass before the procession started. (this is by far the longest time that i have spent in church as an adult) The procession was led by a priest and assorted church officials carrying banners, then a group of scouts carrying a life size figures of Mary, lying in repose among flowers and gilded angels. A marching band followed, playing sober music, and behind the band, was a group of people. Rose petals marked the path of the procession around the city. Along the route, people hung colorful fabric from their windows and watched the pious parade. It was quite a wonderful scene.

Coimbra has been a delight, full of unexpected events. Tomorrow after breakfast we catch a train north to Oporto.
Boa Noite.

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