A Quick Visit to Vienna and Austria

(These events took place in September while we were on a Riverboat tour.)  

Central Vienna

 

With the Danube closed due to a broken lock, our vessel was moored in the middle of nowhere. Our visit to Vienna would  again have to be done by bus.  We were advised to pack for one, possibly two, nights.

Yesterday had not been a good day but things started improving as soon as we got on the bus to Vienna. It was a much better bus than the day before. The air conditioning actually worked and there was enough room between the seats! And the journey was on a proper highway!

 

These liquid eyes belong to one of the famous Lipizzan Stallions.

Vienna (or Wien as the Austrians spell it) is lovely! I wish we had more time there to explore!  (In fact, at the end of the cruise many people chose Vienna as their highlight). First we went to lunch at the Restaurant Griechenbeisl, which has been in business since, get this: 1447! We were following in the eating shadows of Schubert, Strauss and even Mark Twain! Having just spent a week and a half in Hungary, it was ironic that we were served goulash! Actually, it was more like the stew with paprika that we are used to back home, not the soup “golas” that is the original Hungarian style. It was lovely! Beautifully slow cooked beef, nice hearty gravy.

This statue symbolizes the hard battle against the Black Death

The service was a bit slow but only because the poor waiters had to carry all of our big groups’ dishes up and down the spiral staircase. Not easy! Near the end, part of our group from other rooms were leaving, but we hadn’t had our dessert yet – and since it was Sachre Tort (super chocolate layered cake) there was no way we were leaving. No worries, they held the walking tour and we got our delectable cake!

We decided early that Vienna is on our “We-shall-return list,” so even though we battled crowds and did the “interrupted standing” that large walking tours become, we still had a thoroughly enjoyable time in the city. We had an excellent, informative guide who made all the sights interesting.  The architecture in Vienna is beautiful.

Our accommodation that night was the Imperial Riding School Renaissance Vienna Hotel, and it was lovely! Except that it only had wifi in the lobby (unless you wanted to pay through the nose) but the beds were very comfy and the pillows… Oh those pillows!!!  Leaning onto them was like falling into a cloud! 

 

Belvedere Palace

 

A good night’s sleep sure helps one’s perspective! The next morning after a very good breakfast, we went on our own for a stroll around the area. Most things weren’t open yet (we had hoped for the Botanic Gardens but they didn’t open until 10 and our bus left at 11) but we did find Belvedere Palace with amazing grounds and even more interesting statues and fountains. 

This is the castle where Richard the Lionheart was held captive for (pardon, I have to say it) a king’s ransom.

 

In between Vienna and Melk we passed through the Wacchau. (Pronounced Vack-how with a clear-your-throat sound in the middle). This was a lovely area, with ruins (including the castle where Richard the Lion Hearted was held captive), rough hillsides, and lots of grapevines and apricot trees squished into every arable corner. We have decided that when we go back to visit Vienna, we shall find ourselves a place to stay in either Durnstein or Weissenkirchen.

 

Taken from our bus window: We all cheer as we pass our ship chugging up the Danube.

While we were on the bus after lunch, driving alongside the Danube, we had a wonderful sight! Our river boat!! The Emerald Star! It was chugging along the river! It had made it through the broken lock and this was a sure sign that we would be joining it in Melk. Jubilation! Celebration! Victory dances! (At least as wild a victory dance as you can make while seatbelted into a bus seat). Now we knew we were indeed going to be back on the ship that night instead of spending yet one more day on the road.

Top of the Stairs leading down to Melk Abbey

 

Next stop was Melk Abbey/Monastery. It was a place of contrasts and I am sure we would have enjoyed it more if it had been a brighter day. The lovely views were pretty socked in and the colours muted. Still, the buildings were full of intrigue and the actual abbey? – jaw droppingly beautiful! Unfortunately, no pictures were allowed inside so you will just have to imagine the dripping gold, the vaulted ceilings, the lofty pillars, and the intense colours. Maybe there are some images on Google? Oh! There are! Get thee to Google! 

Finally, we were returned to our vessel. We were greeted by the crew and the stay-behind passengers like long-lost friends! It felt like we had been away for ages and it sure felt good to be “home!”

The Wanderers in front of Melk Abbey

 

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Just One of Those Days

Bratislava, Slovakia

Travelling through the countryside of Slovakia

 

I post this to let you know that not every travel day is full of sunshine and flowers.  

It was just one of those days. A lot of little things went wrong. When you put it in perspective it wasn’t all that bad. Just not what you hope from an expensive vacation.

The day before, when we came back to the River Boat after our farewell stroll and wine lunch in Budapest, we learned that there had been an accident farther up stream.  A ship had run into the sides of a lock and traffic up and down the whole river was shut down for repairs.  

That night, Jim did not sleep very well. Just one of those things. Unfortunately, unlike those of us women who have to deal with sleepless nights, he isn’t good at compensating for lack of REM and wears his grumpiness on his sleeve. (When Jim read this, he immediately grumped, “I do not!”  Point taken.)

 

With river traffic moored all up and down the Danube, sites were at a premium. We docked… um… here.

We woke up in the morning to discover the lock was still not fixed. So, with river traffic moored all up and down the Danube at virtually any available site, we ended up docked in the middle of nowhere. Our view? The wall of another ship and beyond that an old Hungarian bunker. We later learned that the nearest village was named (when translated) Mosquito.  I kid you not!  However, the staff had scrambled and arranged buses to our next location: Bratislava in Slovakia. A two hour drive when you add in the necessary 10 minute washroom stop. 

We grabbed an early breakfast and rushed out to the bus. We did have the option of staying put, and some people did that, but, as I said, we were in the middle of nowhere. Besides, Slovakia was destined to be number 27 on the list of countries we have visited since I retired. We had to go!

When I was a child, I was prone to carsickness.  I’m not too bad on bus rides any more… if we are on the highway. However, as I said, we were in the middle of nowhere.

Downtown Bratislava. Everyone, except the tourists, is at home for the national holiday.

Even the bus drivers didn’t know how to find us! (Witness the fact that on the way back, our bus did the old trick of going around a round-about twice! Actually, he did it so he could jockey positions with the bus behind us because that driver did know the way.) That meant most of the trip was over urpy, curvy and bumpy roads.

The only buses the staff had been able to book at such short notice were rather old and tight.  Jim got chapped knees because his skin rubbed against the rough fabric of the seat in front.  The air conditioning, what there was of it, was in a single stream, aimed directly at my neck.  Thus, even though it was sweltering, I had to wear a sweater around my neck.

On the way to Bratislava, our guide informed us today was a national holiday in Slovakia, so all the shops would be closed. No souvenir shopping for us.  (Can you hear Jim sighing with relief?)  Also, tomorrow is to be a Summit Meeting for senior European Union officials so security is at max.

Remember that washroom break? Since nothing was open, we ended up at a gas station. This meant one (count it, one!) unisex toilet for all 43 on-the-elderly-side people. As you can imagine, our ten minute break took a lot longer than 10 minutes! 

 

Security is tight because of the upcoming Summit Meeting for delegates of the European Union.

Since we got into Bratislava a bit late our guided tour (with the largest group our guide has ever had) had to be shortened. Then we were given ½ hour free time. Thank goodness for Rick Steves! We knew exactly where we wanted to go. Then it was back on to the bus. Another urpy ride to our lunch stop.

Lunch was a perfect comedy of errors. First, Jim and I would rather have stayed in the town for an interesting lunch but had to stick with the bus. Second, after the bus ride, my stomach was less than enthusiastic. Third, the restaurant had not expected as many people to show up, so they were understaffed and couldn’t get anymore because of the national holiday. They had the food pre-cooked but previously frozen. And by the time the food finally came to the table, it was still cold… You should have seen the look on our friend’s face when he “stole” one of his wife’s potatoes and popped it in his mouth… the potato was raw!  The staff, who would rather have been at home enjoying a holiday with their families, was even more annoyed at having to serve a bus load of ungrateful tourists!

“Man at Work.” One of the most famous quirky statues in Bratislava.

 

The included visit with a Slovak family was actually very informative, especially for me because the hostess turned out to be a teacher of grade 1 to 4 kids. I learned a lot! The front of the house was deceptive. It was a plain facade almost touching the street… But! Then you walk about to the garden! What a beautiful yard! OMG what a view! We had tea and coffee and cake under an awning, looking out over the vast expanse of farm fields and hillside across the valley. So nice! Unfortunately, the talk was not the least bit interesting to Jim. (Told you he was grumpy). When we got back to the bus, it turned out our good friends had been randomly selected to be part of the group that went to a winery. Talk about a jealous Jim!

So it was back to the boat via urpy bus. We got back just five minutes before dinner at 7.   Oh! I forgot to mention, in the list of silly little things that bother you… When we got back to the room, we

Gotta love the decorative roof tiles!

discovered that Jim had accidentally hit the “Do not Disturb” button (right underneath the two to turn out the lights when you leave buttons) so the maid had not come in to clean our room and our laundry had not been done.  Sigh.

 Dinner was good… Once my stomach recovered!

But then we received more bad news. The lock was fixed BUT… Now, because of the aforementioned Summit Talk, no traffic was going to be allowed through Bratislava tomorrow (of any kind) AND because the canal had been compromised, they were facing the dreaded LOW WATER. No river traffic tomorrow (Friday) and probably Saturday too. So, to go to Vienna it was back on the buses tomorrow. 

 

Thus the end of “one of those days.” 

 At least I got to add another country to my list!

 

The rather unassuming front of our hostess’ house in Slovakia.

 

And yet from the back, the story is quite different: beautiful garden, excellent view, and the tomatoes were amazing.

 

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The Magic of Budapest at Night

 

Panorama of Budapest at Night. What a sight!

Looking for magic?  Go to Budapest at night!  Go for a stroll, tram ride, or (best of all) river cruise.  The city is transformed! 

 

At night, the Parliament buildings are even more jaw-droppingly beautiful.

Lights guild the the city.   All those fantastic, beautiful buildings are flooded with golden splendour while the more modern trappings fade into shadowy obscurity.  Monuments we had never noticed before suddenly stand out in brilliance against a darkened backdrop.  I can only say, “Wow!”  

Party on the Liberty Bridge

 

One Saturday we walked home over the Liberty Bridge.  This is a suspension bridge with broad metal bands forming the arcs.  Every night, young people climb up on the suspension arcs and while they watch the light, hoot and callout to every boat that drifts by underneath.  Being Saturday night it was a real party!

 

St. Stephen’s Cathedral and Fisherman’s Church

Several days later, when we joined our river cruise, we had a night cruise up and down the river through Budapest.  All those lights, all those beautiful buildings, even the headlights of the cars and busses seemed like magical fireflies. By the exclamations of “Amazing!” and the “oos” and “ahhs”, I wasn’t the only person to think so!  Remember when I said people line up on the bridges and call down to passing ships?  That night we got to be on the receiving end!  From the vantage point of the roof of a river boat, we hooted and called right back to the folks lining the bridges.  What a spectacular event to cap off our visit to Budapest!

Castle Hill and the Chain Bridge

 

 
 

 

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Budapest, First Impressions

The Parliament Buildings in Budapest

Budapest!  To me the name rings with exotic chimes of mystery.  It is a place only seen in spy thrillers or read about in adventure stories.

Budapest spans the Danube

 

Even as we drove in, our taxi driver proudly reamed off the names of the various sights I had only seen in pictures.  The lyrical way he said the words were so different from the poor halting phonetical way I had tried to sound them out.

The Chain Bridge (1849)

Budapest spans the Danube.  In fact, it used to be two cities, Buda and Pest, until the famous chain bridge united them in 1849.  

We have a lovely apartment on the Buda side, near Gellért Hill, overlooking the Liberty Bridge.  It is a busy area with so much of the hustle and bustle of any big city, but, in my opinion, more than its fair share of sirens!  We have been told Budapest is one of the safest cities in the world, and certainly we have seen nothing to make us feel nervous, but with all those police cars whipping past, you have to wonder!

The View from our Gellért Hill Apartment

 

My first impression of Budapest?  Spicy!  No, not the people, the food, especially the sausages!  And they are everywhere!  I have long said that you can tell a lot about what a culture holds dear by the things on the shelves in the local grocery store.  Near us is a little-larger-than-corner-store grocery and it carries the usual fare.  

Looking up toward Castle Hill and the Fisherman’s Bastion

What is unusual is that, as small as the store is, there is a special counter just for sausages, and a special employee to slice them.  Mind you, it makes sense, it is rather warm here! September and the temperature is still up to 30° Centigrade (about 85° Farenheit).  So the people would have had to invent ways to perserve their meat.    

And speaking of food, if you like your meals hearty and robust, this is the place to be!  Pork, chicken, veal and dumplings in all manner of stews and soups and, of course, paprika!

Budapest is a wonderful place to explore.  I have loved the views from Castle Hill and was blown away by the beauty of the Parliament Buildings.  I can’t wait to explore more of the city!

 

Looking over the Danube at Castle Hill in Buda, taken from Pest

 

 

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Santorini, A Sapphire and Snow-White Gem

Santorini really is as beautiful as they say!

This was one very busy donkey! He and his handler definitely had the Right-Of-Way.

It is almost impossible to believe but it is true.  Santorini really is as pretty as a postcard.  When you see the view for yourself, THE VIEW, the one made famous in so many postcards, calendars, and travel books, you can’t help but pinch yourself.  It’s real!

 

How to Keep Pirates at Bay: Build on the Clifftops!

 

Mind you, all that beauty does come at a price, getting up to the cities, Oia (the prettiest one, shown above) and Fira (pictured to the right) takes a lot of work.  There are only two docks accessible by the cruise ship’s tenders and even from there you have to make a choice.  Walk the trail with its 600 steps?  Take the gondola with its lengthy line ups?  Or brave the rather (pardon the obvious pun) mule headed donkeys?  Or take another boat which will take you to a bay with bus access?  We opted for the latter.  

 

White Washed Walls and Windmills. Perfectly Blue Sky.

The bus ride up the hill is amazing!  I didn’t know whether I was gasping at each view as it appeared or at the fact both ends of the bus seemed to be hanging over the edges of the hairpin curves!

Santorini is actually a series of islands that are formed from the caldera of a sunken volcano and the small, rather new island of the cone.  We are on the biggest piece.  The bus took us to the top most point and from there we could see all around.  I couldn’t get over the water!  It was the clearest, bluest ocean I have ever seen.  It felt like if you had just the right filter on your sunglasses, you could see clear to the bottomless depths!

 

View from the Santos Winery. Oia in the distance. Fira in the middle.

Guess what?  There are grapes grown on Santorini and we found them!  They are grown short, spreading right across the ground like ivy, to avoid the almost constant wind.  We had a lot of fun trying out the various blends at Santos Winery.  Again, the view was incredible, although I must admit that from a distance, those white-washed buildings of the towns splashed on the top of the cliffs do look a bit like giant bird droppings…

 

Even the waters of Santorini look like jewels!

 When we got to Oia (pronounced EE-yah) we were in for another surprise.  The bus had to park outside.  The whole city has no vehicle transportation inside the walls.  With all the steps, there aren’t even any of the scooters so common in the rest of Europe.  All of the restaurants and shops are serviced not by trucks but either hand pulled dollies or loaded donkeys.  Donkeys are extremely important here, so important in fact that the hundreds of steps are made long with narrow rises strictly for the benefit of a donkey’s gait rather than a human’s step.  Once you realize this, it starts to make sense why the above mentioned restaurants and shops are so expensive!  Not only does everything have to be shipped in to the island but it is then transported by labour intensive foot and hoof methods!

Santorini’s difficulties are also its strengths.  Its inaccessibility has meant it has been able to hang on to its beauty even into the modern age.

The old world flavour of Santorini still exists!

 

 

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Wanderers in Naples

Or: Bambinos in the Woods

San Franseco Di Paola

Today we explored a new to us city: Napoli.

For me it was a completely fresh experience especially since, I blush to admit, I haven’t been in Italy since 1982, and that was during one of those “If this is Tuesday, this must be Belgium” bus tours.

At first I was apprehensive because I speak hardly a word of Italian other than a few words gleaned from menus.  However, as with many European cities, English is the ubiquitous default language and everyone we came in contact with was more than happy to put up with our stuttering attempts to communicate.

A Typical Street Scene in Naples

 

However, I never really did get over my fear of Italian city traffic!  As we left the busy port, with its bewildering maze of construction and roaring trucks, I could see this would be a very easy city in which to get lost.  I was so glad we were walking, not driving.  At each corner, we were lucky if we could locate a street name, and then it took even longer to locate that street on the map.  If I were the navigator in a car, we would have been miles away before I figured out where were had been.  By that time we would be lost again.

I wonder what this shop sells? Lemons perhaps?

However, being a pedestrian in Naples does come with its own dangers, particularly when crossing the street.  Looking for a crosswalk helps but that is still no guarantee that a car won’t cross dangerously close.  I suppose a crosswalk means if they hit you, it’s their fault.  Otherwise, pedestrians are fair game.

I am also afraid I misinterpreted the meaning of the little honk.  We were at one busy crosswalk with cars dashing to and fro when one car gave a gentle honk and I took that to mean, “Go ahead,” as it would in England.  I gave the driver a thank you wave and smile and strode right in front.  Luckily, he was aware enough of my touristic blunders and didn’t hit me.  As we went by other intersections, I soon realized the quick honk means, “Heads up, I’m coming through.”

And this one sells pasta. Lots and lots of pasta!

 

My favourite parts of Napoli were the narrow streets that were (mainly) free of vehicle traffic… Except for motorcycles and scooters, they were everywhere!  Every time scooters came to an intersection, they gave a warning hoot before scurrying through.  One woman’s horn must have been on the blink because she yelled at each corner!  Perhaps that is one reason why so many had faulty mufflers, having a loud vehicle become a safety feature!

Flags flutter below, Laundry flutters above.

 

The narrow streets are like canyons lined with balconies on either side.  The balconies in turn are lined with all manner of flapping laundry.  On the street level are the shops,and all are vying for your attention. Quickly you can see what is prized in Napoli: food, wine, lemons, pasta, shoes, clothes, tobacco, and mobile phones.  I loved the shop that had beautiful little landscapes made with cork wood bark.  

With all that traffic, all that honking, and all those people, you can well imagine that Napoli is a rather noisy city and you would be correct… Except in one place… Inside the Duomo.

The Duomo in Naples

 

This cathedral is an oasis of calm.  A sanctuary of peace.  A marble and gold haven of coolness.  The contrast between one side of the door and the other was so sudden, it was almost unbelievable.  It reminded me of the moment when you are snorkelling that you first put your head under the water.  Instantly you are surrounded by silence and in that silence you suddenly become aware of a whole new level of completely unexpected beauty. 

After being refreshed both physically and mentally, I was ready to charge out into the streets and brave the traffic with more vigour and, I hope, more savvy than before.  I am not ready to hit the streets like a local, however.  At one intersection I watched in awe as one fellow crossed a busy three lane street against the light, directly behind a police car.  To top it off, the fellow was smoking.  Apparently he likes to live life dangerously!

Can you feel the calm just looking at the inside of the Duomo?

 

 

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The Rain Forests of Central America

Or:  Getting Wet is Worth It!

Di and Jim Wanderer wedged between the buttresses of a forest giant.

On this cruise along the Western Caribbean, we stopped and explored two rainforests, one in Panama and the other in neighbouring Costa Rica.

I love the rainforest!  So many plants and animals to see and discover!  

Yes, it is hot and humid but not as oppressive as Columbia had been.  Besides, there was lots of shade and frequent rain showers to cool things off… or steam things up depending on your perspective.

Morph Butterflies: Brown when their wings are closed flash an almost impossibly bright blue when the wings are open.

 

In Panama our tour took us into the forest just beyond the famous Panama Canal.  It amazed me how quickly we appeared to be in the depths of the jungle.  Amazing iridescent blue butterflies, the size of our palms, flitted by in the green.  A paca (large rodent the size of a cat) skittered across the road in front of the van.  

Then the two toed sloth made his appearance.  He was just hanging around in a tree by the bridge, not bothering anyone but our sharp-eyed driver spotted him.  Two toed sloths, as their name suggests, has only two clawed toes on their front paws.  However,

A two-toed sloth deigns to open one eye to blear at us.

 
surprisingly, both two-toed and three-toed sloths have three toes on their hind paws.  Sloths apparently do indeed move very slowly and if they look rather stoned… it is because they probably are.  Their leaves of choice are narcotics.  They are nocturnal and eat all they can at night.  It takes them all day to sleep off their meals.  They stay in one tree for days until they have consumed all they can.  Then they climb down, relieve themselves, (If I had to wait almost a week before I could relieve myself, I’d be pretty relieved too!) and find a new tree. 

He just looks soooo comfortable!

 

Something else I did not know was that female sloths do most of the work when it comes to mating.  All the males have to do is hang about in their tree and whistle.  The females come… ah… running?  Unfortunately, the harpy eagle, one of the biggest eagles in the world, has figured this out and has learned to imitate the male’s whistle.  If any female is fooled and is attracted by the eagle’s whistle, she becomes an easy meal.

This howler monkey doesn’t give a hoot!

Later in a rain forest preserve, we all marvelled as lines of leaf-cutter ants, waving green flags formed continuously moving trails across our path.

Then there were the howler monkeys.  We heard them long before we spotted their swift moving black shapes.  You’ve all heard the sounds on documentaries, like rasping grunting pigs howling in rather than out.  To hear that sound in person… to listen to it echo like a ruckus choir in a cathedral… it was almost surreal.  Despite the heat and the humidity, I got chills.

A Rainbow Sided Tree Frog

 

A troupe of the more rare white faced monkeys presented themselves but only long enough to stare at us and think twice about crossing the road (which was more like a track) until later.  With the scuffle of leaves and the waving of branches, they melted back into the forest until we had returned to the van and driven off.

Jim zips through the canopy.

In Costa Rica we went to the Vagueris National Park.  Here we got to see one of those wonderful tree frogs, you know, the ones with the bright green skinny body and the bright red suction cup finger and toe tips?  Here we got to get closer to the trees and vegetation themselves, thanks to a canopy tram line that took you down the mountainside to a rain swollen waterfall.  

Here the rainforest truly lived up to its name.  Until now we have managed to be either in a van or under cover when the rains hit.  Not this time!  We got to experience a true warm downpour.  It was almost too hot for raingear but you quickly became as soaked as a washcloth without it.  

Believe it or not, the tree top tram was upstaged.  Our next event was a zipline right through the canopy.  Eleven lines!  Woohoo!

I can’t wait to get back to the rainforest again.  I’d love to explore it under the wing of a forest savvy grandmother who could tell me all about each plant and its uses.  Until then, the sound of howler monkeys will haunt my dreams.

 

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Segway in Cartagena, Columbia

The Churches were our Landmarks in the Old City

This is our very first port of call in South America, so we are able to tick one more continent off our lifetime travel goal.  

As soon as we stepped outdoors, we were besieged by the heat.  This is the closest to the Equator I have ever been and it rained all last night so Cartagena is like a steam bath, especially for poorly equipped Canadians like ourselves.  As we walked through the terminal and to our contact point, Jim has to keep reminding me to walk more slowly. Walking quickly in this temperature and humidity can cause heat exhaustion.

We find our bus with no problem and enjoy the AC.  Soon we are driving off toward the Old City.  The bus takes us through wildly differing neighbourhoods.  Some touristic and vaguely false looking and others very poor looking but oh so real.  Cracked sidewalks, cracked buildings, litter in big piles of cardboard, bits of wood, drinking bottles and a discarded shoe.  However, each house is painted up in its own vibrant colour; hot pink, turquoise, forest green, topaz, orange, and sunshine yellow.  And many, many of these homes are decked out with bright Christmas decorations.  

Cracked Buildings, Cracked Streets

The traffic is terrible!  I am so glad I’m not the one driving!  There is a lot of honking, lots of scooters zipping between the inching vehicles, and many lines of traffic trying to squeeze into one thin road.  As we drive along, I am amazed at the variety of skin tones I am seeing, everything from strong tea with milk to dark roasted coffee bean.  Later I am to learn that this area has been called “The Land of Seven Colours” because of the intermixture of peoples from the coast, the rainforest, Europe, Africa, and Central America. 

Finally we make it to our destination.  The Segway Tours.  Jim has always wanted to try a Segway.  When we travelled this summer, Jim often found himself  longingly gazing after a troupe of Segways on tour.  Me? I of course was a little more reticent.  I am a klutz.  I fall off everything. Bikes, skis, high heel shoes, you name it!

Serious Segway Seniors!

However, I must say, the Segway was remarkably easy to learn.  Yes, during the three minute individual part of the lesson, I couldn’t figure out how to make the machine turn right and ended up almost ploughing into the curb on the left.  I was rescued by Caesar, our guide and teacher.  Turns out I have a tendency to turn the handle like a bike, in other words, pulling with my left instead of pulling with my right.  It was an easy fix.  

The Segway tour took us through the Old Town, which is now mainly a pedestrian zone; only service vehicles, lots of taxis, and segways allowed in.  This was nice because we didn’t have to worry about fighting with traffic.  We could zip along to our hearts’ content.

Beautiful Colours and Beautiful Buildings in the Old City

 

The Old City is the area of town that was originally built for the high class, literally!  Only the high class were allowed to build houses that were three stories high. The middle class, two stories, etc.  Knockers on the front doors also told to which family the house belonged.  Iguanas were for royalty.  Seahorses for sea merchants.  A cross on a hand for clergy.  The number of studs on the door was also an indication of how much wealth the family had.  You can learn a lot by a front door!

One aspect of Cartagena that is both intriguing and perhaps a little daunting is the number of street vendors.  They can be quite aggressive but on the Segway, we could just zip right by and enjoy the sights without being pestered.  There are carts with shave ice, ladies with wash basins balanced on their heads full of fruit or baked goods, stalls with coconuts ready to be hacked with machetes, lime aid carts with fresh limes and ice water,

A Well Balanced Lady sells Fruit, Another sells colourful Purses

brightly woven purses, leather goods, beaded jewelry, to name but a few.  One type of cart called to me, it was a hot griddle with English muffin looking patties sizzling away.  They filled the air with a lovely cheesy scent.  They turned out to be made of white corn and white cheese and are a favourite breakfast pastry.

The tour was fascinating.  A chance to gain new knowledge and learn a new skill.  Yes, I was soon zipping along with the best of them on my Segway.  Mine was “L” so I dubbed her Little Lady.  I must admit, I was getting pretty cocky.  However, there was one spot where we went up a short steep ramp and suddenly, with the change of balance, Little Lady was bucking unexpectedly beneath me.  I was falling!  But then, I felt a sudden push. I was rescued again!  The rear guard fellow pushed me in just the right spot with just the right momentum to set me to rights.  This must be the worst spot on the tour for first time Segway users but they were ready to handle it.  Even for a klutz like me!

Art Meets Life: The artist has created a scene from city life, only to have a real Shave Ice cart park beside it!

 

 

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Swimming with Stingrays

Screwing up my Courage to Kiss a Stingray

I am so nervous!  I know hundreds of people swim with stingrays every day with no ill effects.  However, all I can think of is how the great animal lover, the Crocodile Hunter, died from the sting of a ray.  What if the rays can smell my fear, like a dog?  What if they exception to my sunscreen?  My deodorant?

I admitted my fear to my loving husband and he said with his tongue firmly lodged in his cheek, “Maybe I should take the hedgehogs instead.”

For those who don’t know the hedgehogs, Edge and Og, they are our palm-size mascots that have travelled with us for over twenty years.  Although small, they are fearless.

I woke up this morning dreaming of a movie’s death scene.  Mine.  I am lying on the beach, wracked with pain having been stung in the heart by a renegade stingray.  Jim has his arms wrapped around me and I, suddenly, look thirty years younger (Isn’t that always the way with movie death scenes?)  The camera closes in on my face as I wheeze out, “Never forget, I love y….”  One last shudder and I’m gone.  Jim buries his head in my chest in grief.  He’s sorry for that hedgehog comment now!

Still not deterred by vicious death threats, scary nightmares, nor even callous husbands, I shall set forth with Jim on our adventure.

…………….

(Several hours later)

Boats form a circle around “Stingray Island”

 

I am on board the local vessel that brought us to this Stingray City area.  I say area because there isn’t any land in sight except a dull green ribbon of the Cayman Islands.  (So much for my movie death scene on a beach dream.) There are at least six vessels anchored here, with their butts forming a circle.  The water is a beautiful pearl turquoise, getting paler as we near the sandbar.  We can now see hundreds of tourist heads bobbing in the water.  Then  we await our turn to back into the circle.

I am still hesitating.  Finding excuses like putting on extra sunscreen, or being polite and letting other people go ahead.  Jim was one of the first to climb off the aft and he’s now chest deep in azure water.  There are dark bathmat sized diamond shapes winging along under the surface.  People are crying out in joy and astonishment.  Those bathmats are stingrays!  I knew these were wild stingrays but I really didn’t expect them to be this free.  There is nothing holding them here, only the promise of a free meal.  Also nothing to stop that renegade stingray I dreamt about.

I have no trouble entering the water but as soon as I set foot on the sand, I know there is going to be trouble.  The guide told us that we should shuffle along the bottom with our feet.  Definitely do not jump or leap about.  However, I am short and rather… um.. buoyant.  The waves pick me up off my feet and I have no choice but to touch down repeatedly.  Isn’t that like jumping?  

Oh my gosh!  There, in the water, is our guide with this huge behemoth stingray draped over his arms and sliding up all the way to his chin!  As if greeting a long lost lover, he lifts the stingray’s “chin” and gives it a big kiss on its white underside.

A Female Stingray starts to Cuddle up to our Guide

“This is a female,” he explains. “You can tell because the female is softer.  You gentlemen will know what I mean.”  There are nervous laughs from those around.  Especially as now the bathmats are starting to circle.  They know their fresh meat is arriving.  I just hope they know the fresh meat is the squid the assistant was cutting up, not me!  Now the guide is explaining safety precautions and I listen closely.  “This,” he says, circling around the animal and actually grabbing the tail, “is the dangerous end.” He points to the lethal stinger.  “If the tail brushes against you, it will not sting.  Only this part will actually sting.  And don’t touch the spine.  There are barbs along the backbone.  That is the only part of the stingray that is actually bone.  The rest is meat.  In fact, some of the scallops that are served in the Caribbean are actually stingray meat. Not here,” he hastens to explain as people are already starting to identify with this smooth, friendly creature in front of us, “here there is a hefty fine.  Who wants to touch?”  

There is a general gasp and a titter of nervous laughter.  Some people actually step backwards.  

But not Jim!  Jim is in there like a dirty shirt.  With a grin spreading from ear to ear, he raises his hand and surges forward.  The guide tells him to raise his hands apart under the surface of the water and, suddenly, Jim has the fluttering weight of a huge stingray on his arms and chest.  A beatific smile of awe replaces the eager grin and it looks like he’s in love.  In fact, he too kisses the ray!

Now other people are clambering to touch this lady fish and Jim backs up respectfully.  I shuffle over to him and hang on.  He is much taller than I and can be my anchor when those big waves arrive.  Suddenly, something rubs along my left calf.  There are no tourists over there.  It’s a ray!  I can’t help but squeak and startle but even as I do, my mind is telling me how wonderful that touch felt.  It was smooth and silky, light as a feather, and the same temperature as the water. 

Now the Ray is getting Up Close and Personal

 

Oh, look at this, Jim has another ray in his arms and since I’m hanging on to him, I decide to touch the outer flipper as well.

Amazing! It really is smooth!  The upper-side, the dark side, has just a hint of rasp to it, like raw silk.  I had been expecting sandpaper like the skin of the ray’s cousins the sharks.  Surprisingly, the white underside is completely smooth.  In fact, if you squeeze the flipper ever so gently, the texture is rather like tofu.  Honest!

Now the guide is asking, “Who wants their picture taken kissing a ray?  Which couple wants to be first? How about you?”

Naturally, they point at the one who has proven himself the most fearless, Jim, and by association, me.

Thus it was that I actually was part of the pair that posed, surrounded by stingrays, “kissing” and getting back rubs from the tame/wild rays.  

I conquered my fears and no one was the wiser, not even the rays.  Big-Black-and-Pushy even accepted a morsel of squid from my hand.  It felt like a vacuum cleaner was sucking it up!

I am so glad I persevered and learned to love stingrays.  They are awesome creatures. 

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Moorish Baths… Very “More-ish”

Or:  Going with the Flow

Hammam Al Andalus Baths (picture taken from their website)

 

“Oh, dear!  This isn’t the right street.  We’ve gone too far!”  

My main beef with Granada is that for a tourist centred town, they sure don’t put up many street name signs.  B, L, and I are dashing, as fast as it is possible to dash in the heat of Southern Spain, to our 10:00 am appointment for the Hammam Al Andalus Arab Baths.  The ever present church bells have just tolled the hour and we have arrived, just in time… to the wrong location.

Now we must dash back the way we came and search some more tiny narrow streets for the baths.

The Hammam Al Andalus Baths were built to service the people who lived in the Alhambra, way back when, and it was also one of the first baths to reopen after they were banned in the 16th century.  I was expecting something grand, but even when we finally found the right door we weren’t sure it was the right spot.  Sure the little sign outside looked the same as the one in the brochure but it was just an ordinary door leading to an ordinary looking building.  Could this really be the entrance to the famous baths?

But then we entered.  Immediately, things begin to change.  

Relaxing by the Warm Bath (Image taken from the Hamman Website)

A pleasant woman takes our tickets and not a word, not an eyebrow is raised, at our being a few minutes late.  She asks us politely, in English, if this is our first time.  Is it that obvious?  She points us to the change room and tells us that once inside the baths, Antonio (as I will call him) will explain more.

Oh, dear!  I am nervous again.  I’ve never been to any formal baths before.  What if I don’t do the right thing?  What if I accidentally break some unknown Spanish mores?   

My first impression?  It’s hot in here!  Even in the dimly lit change room.  How am I ever going to manage two hours of this heat?  After our dashing about in the dry heat outside, to be hit by the wave of moist air is astonishing.  However, we all bravely change into our swimsuits, put our clothes in the lockers decorated with Moorish designs, and head through the swinging doors, up the narrow passageway into the baths.

Just before we enter, we notice a sign that pictures a person going, “Shhh.”  There is no talking in the baths.  We all three look at each other.  No talking?  For two hours?  Us?

Inside, it’s dark!  I blink and try to see through the steam and dimness but all I see is candlelight.  What happened to the building we walked into?  This place looks like we are in a cave!

Suddenly, a figure emerges out of the gloom and there is Antonio, asking us (in a bare whisper) again if this is our first time.  We really must look like English-speaking deer blinded by the candlelight!  L answers and he proceeds to explain the different baths.  I hear words like, “hot,” “cold,” “warm,” “tea,” and “important.”  However, he is speaking so quietly and in such accented English, I doubt I could have comprehended it all if he were speaking directly in my ear.  I do catch, “…but first, showers,” as he points down some marble stairs to an even darker room.  Antonio then retreats back into the shadows.

Those stairs are slippery!  Like they are filmed with both oil and hot dew.  Luckily the handrail is solid and we totter down to the showers without incident.  At least we think it is the showers; all we can see are alcoves.  I actually walk too far and almost walk into the next room.  I get an impression of near naked bodies (both men and women) face down on padded tables, each with someone rubbing their backs.  Ah!  The massage room!  I will store that location for later.

Back in the shower room, I feel a little chirrup of victory as I am the first of us three to figure out that the alcoves are indeed the showers and the almost invisible button is what you press to make the warm rain fall.

L then repeats a lot of what Antonio told her and I ask if there is a special order in which we are supposed to use the baths.  Is there a program?  No.  Not at all.  Any order you like.  Eventually, Antonio will find us again and tell us it is time for our massages.

So, together we head back up the slope to the baths.  We are still a little leery of our place in this alien world of heat, steam, and candlelight so we stick together like three lost souls.  First stop is the “warm” pool.  This is a lovely deep rectangle full of softly rippling water, large enough to do a few laps, as the only occupant is doing.  Columns rise from the water, supporting a wood inlaid ceiling.  Have we been transported back to the Alhambra?

As my toe makes its first tentative touch into the water, my knots of tension start to recede.  It is lovely and warm, hotter than a heated swimming pool yet cooler than a bathtub.  Perhaps because it is water, it cools my skin just enough to sooth my impression of the over-heated air.  I can’t wait to immerse myself.

All three of us are now in the water.  We can’t talk, but we can share delighted grins.  Yes!  This is what it’s all about!  I dog-paddle to the other end by the three trickling taps whose warm streams bounce on the marble slabs, filling the air with gentle water music.   My feet float of their own accord and I lie back, supported by warmth.  Suddenly, I am aware of warm droplets sprinkling my cheeks.  Rain?  No, I realize the taps’ water flow is splashing up a gentle mist.  It is like the first drops of a summer shower.  The rain-starved Vancouverite in me sighs as I lift my face to the  falling water drops.  Ah!  It is time to lie back and breath in the scented air.  Time to praise Allah or God or Mother Nature or Air Transat or what ever Power it is you want to thank for getting you to this place and letting you experience this peace.

At first I thought I would just stay here, in this pool, forever but eventually, with no words, the three of us decided to move on.  We try the steam room but the heavy heat and the overly incensed steam are too much for us and we move on.  Maybe if we had persevered we would have acclimatized, but to me it wasn’t worth the time.  There were too many other areas of the baths to explore.

We try a hot pool.  This one is tall and narrow.  The walls are covered with Moorish tiles and the decorated marble ceiling boasts slanting, carved windows like skylights at dusk high above us.  We really have been transported to the Alhambra!  Only to a room where one of the fountains has taken over.  The water, surprisingly, is not too hot.  It is soothing, muscle melting, and supportive.  By now, my eyes are acclimatized to the dimness and, as I lean back, I appreciate the beautiful wall and ceiling designs that rise up around me.  I finally have the chance to do what I wanted to do in the Alhambra… to follow a line in the geometric patterns as it flows from a central star, out to another star, bends round a comet shape, out to the the corner and back to the central star but at a different point than before.  At least I try to do this, but my eyelids grow heavy.  

Slowly, the three of us start to drift apart.  I discover a darkened little alcove where the hot water trickles in from a marble trough that comes from an even tinier mysterious alcove in the wall.

From then on, things start to blend together.  I try each pool in turn, discovering the beauty in each one.  Even the cold one has its glory, although I only dabble my feet in the shockingly chilly water, I find the cool, cave like room around it is the best place to sip and savour the honey sweet mint tea.

Since I don’t have a watch, and since there is no talking, I find time ceases to have meaning and all worries float away.  There is no right or wrong here. Being late?  It is of no consequence.  The trouble I’ve been having with my cell phone?  Unimportant.  I just slowly drift from one pool to another, from cold to warm to hot, lounging on cool marble or floating in warm water as the spirit moves me. 

Eventually, there is Antonio at my elbow, motioning me into the massage room where I wait my turn on a large, heated, octagonal marble stone.  The masseuse gives me a choice of four essential oils: lavender, rose, red amber, or pomegranate flower.  The latter, with its sweet but sprightly scent is my pick.

Oh! The Massage!  This was not a deep tissue, muscle agonizing pounding but the most relaxing of rubs I have ever had.  I swear there were times when my lady was using four arms!

Eventually, I was ready to return to the cool room and sip more mint tea.  It was there we three met up again, each face alight with bliss.  

All good things must come to an end and yet, with the zen-like understanding I had just gained, I knew I was ready to go.  

However, I must admit, I moved rather slowly and peacefully the whole rest of the day.  

B is going to do some research to see if there are such baths in Vancouver.  I hope so.  I am ready to go with the flow again!

 

 

 

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