Christmas in Crete

The European sun is elusive in December, but this year we tried our luck to catch some lukewarm rays in Greece. We didn’t have much luck, but we did have fun in a winter wonderland of grilled meat and classical ruins with remarkably cheery folks.

Incredible distant view of the Acropolis from hills above Kaisariani

During the summer season direct flights to the Greek isles are a dime a dozen, come winter it’s a different story. All flights stop in Athens. So we made it a long layover both directions to Heraklion in Crete.

Athens

We arrived in Athens on Christmas day and were surprised to see that everyone was out and about — they were shopping and dining instead of at home with their families, as we’re accustomed to for the holidays. Our Airbnb was centrally located in Plaka, which meant we were within easy walking distance of the Acropolis and many other notable sites. Though all were closed for Christmas, we were able to get up pretty close to the mesmerising ruins without having to battle the usual hordes of tourists. After a quick lunch of kebabs with yogurt at O Thanasis taverna, we ambled up the hill to navigate the buildings bunched around the Parthenon.

After walking around the Acropolis, we continued to enjoy the view from a rooftop bar called A for Athens. With a spectacular panorama of the ancient city, it was a good place to take in the sunset.

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  Sophie outside the 11th Century monastery atop the hill

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  Street art in Plaka

Much of the city was still closed on the 26th, so we wandered between meals. Next door to our Airbnb was a modern little cafe called Lukumades, serving its namesake (something akin to Dunkin Donuts ‘munchkins’). Hot out of the fryer and traditionally served swimming in honey and cinnamon, these were an enticing snack. After breakfast number one, we made our way north towards dicey Omonia Square in pursuit of an authentic dairy bar. We found it: Stani. The interior felt like a small town American diner, and the food was simple, superior quality dairy products. Here we had a plate of thick, creamy sheep yogurt drizzled with honey and hearty walnuts.

These fantastic doughnut dough balls were a delight

Afterward, we felt like a stretch. We took the metro to Evangelismos station and walked about 45 minutes to reach the forest at Kaisariani. We followed the path beyond the cemetery and picked up the trail markers for the monastery. Our reward was a breathtaking view of the city and of the ancient Acropolis.

Good view of the surrounding city atop the rocks in the Acropolis Park

Euboea

On the way back from Crete, we spent another day in mainland Greece. Satisfied with our visit to Athens and wishing to explore further afield, we rented a car. We drove just under two hours to Euboea (Evia), the second largest island in Greece (after Crete), accessible from the mainland by bridge.

The road turns into a path and an exciting, goat-filled adventure

On Euboea, we headed to Mount Dirfys to hike Agali Gorge. A false start as we struggled to find the trailhead, soon enough we were climbing the steep trail up through the gorge. As the altitude increased, our lack of winter gear made us turn back. Even partway up we enjoyed some spectacular, snowy views!

Headed to the Gorge on a wintry Greek morning

As we slipped and slid back down, we kept hearing a strange call that sounded a lot like “hhhaaaalllp“. Confused by the plea, seemingly in English, we ran into a Greek couple after not too long who were completely unperturbed by the loud hollering. “What’s that noise?” we asked innocently, “Is someone in trouble d’you think?” They laughed. It was a mountain goat. Shortly thereafter, around a bend, sure enough, a small herd of goats stood bleating out their call for “hhhaaalllp”.

Despite 90% of the Greek population being present on the mountain that day, there was enough view for everyone

To get the full mountain view, we carried on driving the winding, icy road up the mountain. The domestic tourists thrilled in blocking the road, joyously parking half-submerged in snow banks while they posed for selfies.

Sophie, pictured here being a good sport despite not possessing the right shoes for snow trekking or goat combat

Chania

Quick stop headed south from Chania to the coast

We arrived in Heraklion in the early evening after a quick flight from Athens and set out at once for Chania, a smaller city towards the west of Crete. We spent three nights at the charming Kanso Rooms, located in a quiet village just outside Chania. The kind manager gave us many rain-proof activities to keep us busy despite the torrential weather.

In the cave of Agia Sofia looking out at the gorge

The first night there we walked into nearby Galatas, the village by our hotel, for one of the best meals of our entire trip (and maybe our lives!) at Taverna Elia. We especially loved the casserole of gigantes beans, the local red wine and the friendly family who ran this establishment.

Next day, it was off to Elafonissi beach, with a diversion planned (courtesy of our host’s recommendation) to the charming little converted village of Milia, an eco-resort. Be careful to follow local directions, not Google Maps. We almost gave up after trying to follow a goat path and ripping the bottom out of our rental car. Such fun! (On an unrelated note, get full rental insurance).

Enchanting Milia from above

An excellent “mountain beer” available at the top of the mountain

The cosy interior of the Taverna in Milia

Nothing like a warm fire on a rainy afternoon

The abandoned village was purchased and turned into an eco-resort, it’s idyllic

After our pleasant lunch in the taverna in Milia, and the harrowing switchbacks to get up there, we coasted down to one of the most famous beaches in Crete. On the way, we had passed an ancient Orthodox monastery in a cave dedicated to Agia Sophia located in a scenic gorge. Though we had heavy rain much of the way, once we arrived at the beach, it was abandoned and beautiful.

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The following day we enjoyed the local flavour of Chania, including torrential rain, really excellent seafood and the incredible Venetian Lighthouse and seawall. The winter season means that not many places are open, but we managed to find great local coffee and many fun shops to explore. With few tourists and even fewer locals, there was no lack of good service and friendly shopkeepers eager to help.

A word of warning, many locals in Greece are excited about a phenomenon known as Nanou’s Donuts. Don’t get the f$&%# donuts – they’re literally frozen pieces of trash. We tried three times to be sure. Yep, we confirmed they suck — stick with Lukumades.

Venetian Harbour and Sea Wall in Chania

Not wanting to spend the entire day in the car yet again, we set off to see a gorge to stretch our limbs. We had to change course many times because of severe flooding (from the many-mentioned torrential rains). Our diverted course meant we stumbled on the incredible ancient Arkadi monastery (it was filled to the brim with cats), a bizarre fresh water lake (still not sure why it’s a tourist attraction) and a Georgio’s Mountain Attack (AKA Patsos Escape) — all on the way to Patsos Gorge. (Yes, we did spend the whole day in the car). At the end of the long day, we got a few donuts at Nanou’s. They’re the worst.

Old town in Chania

At Georgio’s Mountain attack, we did a small hike down the flooded gorge and through a slightly creepy bit of woods with sheep skulls stuck on sticks, there was also an abandoned shack where a voice went “oooooohhhh”. We hurried back, eager to leave, but Georgio’s mom insisted on cooking pork steaks and oregano fries, and preparing a massive Greek salad for us. Meanwhile, she kindly toasted our socks and shoes by the fire, they had gotten soaked in the rain. She didn’t speak any English, of course, so when she wrapped our feet in newspaper we were momentarily confused. For entertainment, Georgio told us the story of how he befriended an American tourist who wrote a book that briefly mentioned his village on page 255. He showed us a copy, and then proceeded to recite the main points of the book for 45 minutes while we gnawed on the porksteak (it was tougher than a Nanou’s donut).

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  Arkadi Monastery

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  Staff member

We also spent two days in Rethimno. Chania has everything Rethimno has, but is nicer. Maybe it’s good in the summer but it’s mostly a concrete maze full of diesel fumes and NO Nanou’s in sight! Although, the fort was cool. And Sophie did find some shops that were acceptable.

Heraklion – in the halls of the Minotaur

The only reason I agreed to go to Crete at all was to see my friend, the Minotaur. He’s one of the best bits of Greek mythology and I had to visit Minos’ palace at Knossos. Naturally, being as many thousands of years dilapidated as it is, it leaves much to the imagination. Still, there is something special about seeing the spot of the fabled labyrinth where the Minotaur lived.

Mesmerizing artifacts a plenty… perhaps the first Nanou’s Donut?

The history museum in Heraklion was pretty fantastic. All sorts of ancient artifacts from the civilizations that pre-date the Hellenic conquest of Crete – (Phoenicians, Minoans etc). There were seals, tablets, swords, and a number of intact sarcophagus-style clay burial pots, some fascinating stuff. Also, hilariously mis-translated signs made for ‘funny moment’. Unfortunately, the Hellenic wing was closed for maintenance. I blame the Romans.

The last incredible meal in Crete was at Hairi. They had traditional Cretan food, rather than just generic ‘Greek’ food. Sophie had a Cretan pasta and I had a porridge-like soup that was savoury and brothy, and delicious. It was a bit like a congee, but much much better.

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Although Crete in the winter was great, looking out from the inside of our lockdown Corona-house now, a warm beach and a fresh Greek salad sounds pretty ace. Next time I get a chance, I’ll raise an Alfa Beer and say “Cheers to Crete” (preferably on the beach in Crete).

-Brian

Wales Walks: The Snowdonia Way

After an exhausting season at work, I needed a break that would allow me to catch up on some much needed exercise, as well as permit me to engage in some quiet reflection while enjoying the peace of the outdoors. Last year, I was talking to someone about walks in the UK and they mentioned Snowdonia. I’d been to Aberystwyth before, some years ago, which is right at the Southern border of Snowdonia National Park. Sophie and I just went to Brecon Beacon, which proved to be a far more exciting hike than we had expected. So I was really eager for Snowdonia.

Choose your path wisely

I decided to take the Snowdonia Way, and in hindsight, the sheer distance calculations were a mistake. There would have been no issue clearing the 18-24 miles daily I needed to do within my timeframe, but I made a few errors in terms of navigability, daylight constraints, and load-bearing abilities. Check the official site for some useful recommendations.

I learned a couple important things:

• As you get farther north, one must operate with significantly less daylight, even in October. Mid-October, the day is actually 7:30am sunrise and about a 6:20pm sunset. This really limits the amount of dawdling (or pub wallowing) and more significantly the amount of getting lost you can allow
• Don’t overestimate your fitness or underestimate the weight of your pack when determining the distance you can clear in a day
• Even with complete survey ordinance maps,  many of the paths in Wales are overgrown, or aren’t official — they may literally be sheep paths. This means you must factor in at least an hour for getting lost

Preparing for a walk in Snowdonia

Looking back toward Mac, at this point I had already sweat through my clothes.

I chose my own formulation of the path based on the Snowdonia Way path, and I tended to choose the more rugged bits but also the less popular parts of the national park to the south. These were beautiful, but I regret not spending more days in the top toward the coast. Especially the Slate path and the mountains around there were worth exploring in more depth. Whatever way you go, be careful in calculating the distance and read multiple sources. Also, be prepared in terms of supplies, be sure to bring:

• First aid kit (you really might need it) – £10
• Emergency survival blanket – £5
• Sturdy collapsable rain poncho – £10
• Optional, rain pants (for sideways rain and slips) – £10
• Waterproof cover for your pack, I use a sturdy REI pack with a removable cover I bought three years ago – £150
• Dry socks / enough change of clothes, and if possible spare pair of shoes – make sure they will stay dry
• Whistle/flashlight (torch) combo – £8
• Heavy, waterproof coat – between £40-£120
• Waterproof boots – £30-£85
• Ordinance maps – £20

Can’t stress the importance, though I didn’t use half of these things — I came close to needing them on several occasions, and the other things were lifesavers. We’ve also needed these on our other walks in Wales and other remote parts of the world, so worth the investment.

Day 1: A dangerous navigational error – Machynlleth to Dolgellau

My hike began from Mac, early in the morning. Leaving from the village and heading northeast, it started out with a bit of a steep climb right away. (I stayed at the Wynnstay – do not recommend it, very rude staff and way overpriced. So book early to find something else!)

Heading northeast toward Foel Gach — first leg of the journey. Ordinance maps are helpful for context, but not super accurate in Wales.

Though I carefully marked out my path, due to some of the difficulties with finding way markers I did lose track at some point. Initially, I followed the Coastal Path, which ascends quickly through several pastures and is marked with blue seashore markers. It quickly winds sharply to the east toward the sea. Instead, I opted to take the forest service path which forks into multiple roads and a path that descends down into the valley. I took the fork to the right, which led through a really cinematically creepy wood.

You can see the post for the Coastal Marker, looking back towards Mac.

Eventually, I followed the roads, which don’t appear accurately on the map. I chose the road because it was firm ground and not soggy, which meant that I ran less risk of getting damp (I had already gotten damp from the overgrown path where branches reach out and drench you).

Followed this path through the dark, wet woods until the road forked. Take the fork right.

From following the road, after a while (2 kilometers or so) I caught some kind of nature path for the Dyfi Biosphere. Before that the trail winds up near a stone house and I stayed left, even with the latitude of Centre for Alternative Energy on the map. After that, it really leads straight up and over the mountain.

Road leads up the mountain on a little specially-marked path

After a while the trail becomes faint, though at first you easily find the ladders over the walls. First, you climb up a very steep tree-lined path, with really thick short pine tress. Eventually, this turns into an even steeper scramble up through the pastures not only very steep, but muddy.

The fog suddenly rolled in and made it more difficult to navigate

I kept climbing, and the views were great. The forest path leads to another path along a fence. Follow the fence across a number of sheepfolds. Eventually, it rises up, higher and higher until you get a really good view of the surrounding land.

Follow the fence along the pastures, it is pretty strenuous going because the path keeps leading off into smaller paths where sheep have created their own ways

To the west you can see directly to the sea and to the east you get a great view of the mountains which increase in altitude to the north. Very lovely scenery. However, this is where I lost the trail, I climbed up through several pastures following the trail and it turned into the road. With no way markers, I followed the road up and to the right (that being the direction I needed to go to get down to the valley to Abergynolwyn).

I climbed up this ridge, it’s much steeper than it looks, the path leads down and to the left after you cross the gate but then it quickly turns into a road which I took to the right

At some point, I lost my way and wound up on the wrong hill. Unable (and perhaps unwilling) to turn around, I pushed on, able to see a road nearby that ran parallel. There is a system of forest roads down there, that if I reached could easily get me to Abergynolwyn. For the sake of time, I decided to navigate down the mountain through the brush. This was a huge (and incredibly dangerous) mistake. All of the stands of trees in those woods have been re-grown, but I didn’t realise that the land is highly unstable because it was piled with some old rotted and decaying pieces of timber. So, as I navigated down through the the thickly growing trees, I had to use my hands to keep the brush out of my face. My hands were really torn up by the time I reached the bottom. Also, to navigate I had to keep my head low, I didn’t realise how steep the drop was and how wet the hillside was. In short, I am lucky to have survived that stupid gambit.

When I did make it to the bottom, my waterproof boots were completely soaked. I squished and squelched my way back and forth on the logging roads, which didn’t appear correctly on my map, for about 2 hours, in the end walking 5 kilometers just to get to the hill path that led down to Abergynolwyn. By the time I made it down into the town, it was 2 o’clock, leaving me less than the recommended 5 hours to do the Cadair Idris walk, but also in completely soaked boots. Even if I swapped out my boots for my tennis shoes and took up the trail immediately (presuming no more navigational errors), it would have been a tough journey, leaving me no time to appreciate the mountain. Instead, I had a nice pint in the great little pub in Abergynolwyn with lunch and called a taxi to Dolgellau (OUCH!), I surmised it wouldn’t do me much good to start day 2 with trenchfoot or get stuck in the dark somewhere. As a result, I missed Cadair Idris. SAD! But I did get a bit of time to relax in my hotel room and the charming little town of Dolgellau, which is comprised mainly of slate buildings.

Day 2: An unexpected bus journey, and more frustrations with incomplete maps

Sheepies living in abandoned human houses

On day two, the frustration from failing to complete my journey the first day only compounded my resolve to power through and finish the walk. However, what I didn’t realise was just how steep the valleys were and just how far I had signed up to walk! I went back later and calculated, it was 18 miles from Dolgellau to Ffestiniog. That’s as the crow flies, but I was not only traveling on indirect and (sometimes) difficult to locate paths, but I was also carrying around 40 pounds on my back (which slows you down).

In the morning, my intention was to walk the whole way. I left early (with no breakfast, thanks stupid rugby match), leaving Dolgellau via the bridge to the north of town. After crossing, it’s easy to follow the road up the steep hill until you come to a sign for a golf course where you can turn left. This road descends somewhat and here you see a sign for a footpath which you follow up over a small bridge. Traveling a long a busy road for a minute, you soon connect with the footpath which goes through the little town of Llanelltyd.

Head out of Dolgellau over the bridge

From here, you’ll start a very gradual climb up overlooking the valley. I took this path for sometime and it winds through the woods and offers beautiful views of the valley below. My original plan was to strike out to the west and travel across the mountains. However, by 11:35 in the morning I had only come about 12% of the distance for the day and I got turned around in a boggy field for about 45 minutes. Before long, I had already stepped in a deep puddle, so soaking wet and discouraged, I did a quick desperate Google search for public transport.

About half a mile down the hill was a bus stop. I had about 22 minutes to get down a pretty steep hill, or I would miss the next bus which was about four hours later. Shivering in my sweat-drenched clothes, I made a mad dash down the hill through a small country park and came out of a rusty gate by someone’s cottage. I hustled up the road and made the bus (which was about 7 minutes late). In hindsight, it was a good choice, soon after I was on the bus it started to really rain.

I took the bus to Maentwrog which meant I still had a few miles to go to Ffestiniog. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant hike in the rain. So I clambered back down, went back to where I had been unable to find the path and tried harder. Eventually, across a busy section of road, I sighted the footpath sign. Completely damp at this point, I trundled through the woods, up a steep hill and through some fields until I made it to Y Pengwern, the loveliest place I stayed the whole trip.

Arriving soaked and exhausted, this was definitely the low point in my trip, but finally the next day — things were looking up.

Day 3: Slate trail is really a sheep trail

On the third day, I was heading from Ffestiniog to Nant Gwyant, I had finally had the sense to set myself a realistic target.

Piles and piles of Slate line the trail up through the valley

I had a lovely breakfast in Ffestiniog at Y Pengwern. In order to really get a jump on the day (which I thought I needed), I decided to grab a bus up to Blenau Ffestiniog, rather than walk.  This was a good choice, it was not a scenic bit, and this placed me in a good position to make great time for the day. The bus dropped me at the mountain railroad station in the center of town. From there, just a bit of walking in town allowed me to catch public footpath. The trail immediately ascended up, around the side of the mountain, through a sheep pasture and down through another small village, Tanygrisiau, then connecting with the well-marked Slate trail.

The Slate trail was really neat. Following the road up a steep hill, You walk past derelict housing for the slate miners, as well as massive piles and piles of slate. There’s an old slate church, a slate farmhouse, even a slate watermill — very cool. Also, once you rise up out of the ‘Valley of the Slate’, you find yourself encountering incredible views, but a real lack of trail markers. I lost about 35 minutes looking for the trail, until I was lucky enough to encounter a friendly old farmer fella. I showed him my map, and he pointed over the mountain.

View from Tanygrisiau, crossing the sheepfolds — looking down toward Ffestiniog

“Is that the trail…?” I asked.

“Not trail per se… more like a sheep path” He answered, “Just head that way.”

So I did. Fortunately, you quickly encounter a few mountain lakes that provide a bit of locational context, otherwise, it’s just a steep climb up a harsh and boggy plateau. Eventually, you come to a series of really incredible mountain lakes. Remote and isolated, because there’s no trail you’ve got to be careful. I lost the trail for a bit and as a result my shoes got very, very wet. That really makes the rest of your walk less pleasant.

The ‘Slate Valley’ is beautiful, but stay on the road as the area is heavily mined and there are deep sinkholes

It also gets a lot colder up top, so be sure not to wear all your layers on the way up, or you sweat, get soaked, and then freeze. Also crucial is paying attention to your compass and overlay on your map.

Important tip: Sometimes in Wales, the trails don’t look like trails but steep drop-offs. They might still be trails.

Incredible views from the top, you can see all the way to the coast

From there, it’s an up and down slog across the marshes, choose your trail carefully because there are a few electric fences. The mountain lakes provide a lovely place to stop and have a snack, if you can find a dry place. There’s one with a little island in it. Cute.

Navigating the swampy sheepfolds, a middle plateau half-way down to the valley, you can see the Watkin path, which heads through the pass up toward Snowdon (my tomorrow path)

Finally arrived, with soaking feet to Nant Gwynant — this is it the next day on my way up

It doesn’t look like a steep waterfall from here, but it drops off quick. I almost got stuck on a ledge but managed to get down

Through the woods to the YHA Victorian house, this is easy to catch from the road once you’ve navigated the disastrously muddy sheepfolds

I lost the trail, despite my best efforts, and had to climb down a waterfall. In hindsight not the best choice of the day, there were some steep drops, very hazardous mossy slippery bits, and I almost got stuck on a ledge because I was too tired to climb back up with my 40lb pack. But I made it down to the huge lake, and then proceeded to walk around, hopped the wall, said ‘hi’ to the sheep and started trying to figure out the convoluted path down through some farmer’s badly marked pasture. Eventually, I found the marked path, but by mistake, and took it through some really deep dark woods, emerging at the bottom of the hill, a quick climb to the YHA. Don’t get there before 5pm, or you’ll be bored and frozen, no check-in until then.

Important tip: Ordinance survey maps in Wales aren’t 100% accurate, sometimes you have to go your own way.

Day 4: Finally, some real damn mountains

Day 4 was awesome. The best day easily. Though day 3 went pretty smoothly, I arrived a bit too early and still lost the track a bit. On day 4, I only really got lost once, and it wasn’t lost as much as just confused by how insanely steep some of the paths were.

It was finally time to climb Snowdon, I was afraid I wouldn’t have enough time to make it up Snowdon, down the other side and up the Glyders. I was wrong, as another guest and the hostel guy assured me, there was plenty of time to make the distance. The reason for this is that the paths in this northern area of the park are well-marked (except for one or two really scary spots) and the Watkin Path and Pyg Track are essentially stone steps the whole way. For me, this meant running up the mountain because I was worried about not making great time.

So, bright and early at 6am, I grabbed some continental breakfast, a few strips of bacon and headed out for the cutoff that heads over the stream and connects with the Watkin path. It’s not super easy to find, but fortunately you know generally where you’re headed, up.

Follow a pedestrian footbridge through some fields, hop a stone wall (since the path disappears) and you’ll see two trails leading up into the pass, I recommend staying left – that means fording the stream

After hopping some rocks in the stream and risking your downfall bright and early,  it’s a straight rapid climb on clearly marked stone stairs, you’ll also see a stone signpost for the Watkin Path. The path is pretty clear, but very easy to lose your way once the mist really comes in.  I stayed on the path for most of the way, but I did lose it at some point.

Once you climb up the pass, you find yourself in a long valley, several paths branch off — stick with Watkin Path

Looking back down at the path — elevation rises pretty quickly, I had sweat through my clothes at this point, but this is also where it really starts to climb

The path gets really steep as you approach the ridge, it gets harder not to lost in foggy conditions

In fact, after I strayed from the path, I ended up climbing (almost free-hand), and at this point I took my pack off because I was essentially dangling off the mountain. My backup water bottle came loose and before I could grab it I saw it go tumbling into the mist, and then heard it fall thousands of feet down the steep slope below. This was very scary, and almost immediately afterward, exhausted from going straight up the rock face, I saw a figure emerge in the mist. For a moment, I thought I was already dead… then I realised it was a rock…

It’s the grim reaper! Pretty scary moment.

It’s not the grim reaper… It’s Watkin

After I scrambled a bit, I came to the top of the ridge. It’s clearly marked on the map and it’s easy to know based on your compass bearings when you’ve actually intersected with it. Scramble along it and it will incline steeply just before you collide with the main ridgeway path, a perfectly perpendicular stone path. Follow it up, don’t get freaked out by the eerie silence if it’s foggy. Then before you know it, you’ve made it.

Here’s the building at the summit where the railway terminates. You can get a not-great coffee and a snack in there.

I made it in astounding time, just under three and a half hours, but that’s because I ran up, I was eager to get to the top and didn’t pause for views because it was foggy. I was, unfortunately, unable to get any view on top because of the fog, but that’s the gamble. I still had the excitement of the climb though. I didn’t linger long, just enough time to catch my breath and grab a bad coffee in the mountain top cafe / rail station.

My original idea was to take the Crib Goch, which is the ‘dragon’s back’ style trail that traverses the ridge above the Pyg track, and down toward the Glyders. Instead, given my harrowing climb up in the fog and subsequent exhaustion, and the long way yet to go, I opted for the Pyg track. In the end, this was a great choice. In the fog, the top track views would have been wasted and it would have been dangerous going for no reward.

A short distance down the Pyg track, you’ll begin to see gorgeous views back up toward Snowdon, and heading out toward the Glyders. There is a view of the huge, beautiful reservoir that you get to enjoy all the way down the track.

The track splits into the Miner’s track, where you can walk down by the water, or you can stay on the Pyg track

As soon as the track levels out you immediately head up, when you crest the hill, follow the sign for Pen-y-Pass, around the peak, you catch the opposite side down for sweeping views of the valley.  It is a stone path, with stairs cut in at different levels. Again, I took it pretty fast, making it to Pen-y-Pass by noon for a five and a half hour up and down from start of the path. Not too bad all-in-all.

Path heads up and to the left of that peak

Once I was down in the valley, I saw the Pen-y-Pass Hostel and regretted not staying there, it’s big with some food options and in a beautiful area. Fortunately though I was making good time, so I stopped off to buy a few replacement waters and a Lucozade to replenish some electrolytes. Good choice, the climb up was hard.

Looking down the pass, just before heading down toward the road and YHA lodge

Just to the left of the Hostel, you’ll see a trail that climbs up to the range behind.  This is the trail I took, but I really recommend taking one that’s a bit further down the road, as it’s easier to find, better marked, and branches directly off the road. You’ll also, hopefully, then manage to stay dryer than I did. Instead, I lost the trail around Llyn Cwmfynnon and ended up getting soaked in the marsh that lies between there and the only traversable path. It’s there, but it’s a steep one. On the way up, I met a man preparing to hand glide off the top of the hill. I asked him for directions, he suggested to get to Idwal Cottage, my final destination, I needed to take the Miner’s track. He mentioned it was a bit of a scramble. Keep left when I got to the top of the mountain, he suggested. Then one path headed up the Glyders, where you can climb over the top of Glyder Fawr, or head east or west along the range.

I opted to take the Miner’s track down from the top, but under-estimated how hard it would be to find in the fog.

The view of Snowdon and Pen-y-Pass from the top. On the right side you can see where the path winds down to Pen-y-Pass.

Once I got up top, the views were great. You can see right back to Snowdon which was still covered in fog. However, once I got up to the top, the lovely view soon vanished in an equally thick ambush of fog.

It’s marshy up top, I quickly lost the trail as the fog rolled in thick and heavy

The temperature also dropped quickly as the cloud cover rolled in. It was also marshy up there. Before long, even on the trail, I stepped into deep puddles. My boots were soaked and my pants up to my waist were covered in damp bog water.

Soon, I was having difficulty navigating. Whipping out the compass (on my iPhone), I was able to determine based on the location of the lake, where the Miner’s track should be. However, the steep decline looked like it just dropped right off the side of the cliff. That’s not a trail, I thought, panicking a bit and wondering if it was meant for actual harness climbing instead.

It doesn’t look steep from this perspective, but it was pretty scary. Once you slide down a bit, you get your feet.

In reality, it essentially does drop off the cliff. I took off my pack, because in the wind I was worried I would get blown over the side, and climbed to the edge on my belly. There, below, I could see the beginnings of a trail heading off into the rocky side of Glyder Fawr. It looked barely like anything, but once I retrieved my pack, I slinked down against the rock.

It’s about a five foot drop, which looks steep, but gradually leads to a muddy sort of funnel-like path, scrambling and dropping you toward an evened out rock-lined track. In my fatigued state, I had to be careful because it was a sharp drop on the right side, though down a rocky slope, it would be easy to hurt oneself.

Follow that path back up through that pass and you’ll come to a wall fence crossover. From there, you’ll see the beautiful lake below. To the right of that lake (and not on the map), is a carefully cut stone stairway leading all the way down to Idwal Cottage. The other side of the wall is a great spot for a quick rest and maybe a snack because the climb down is arduous.

It was a tough trek and I made some mistakes, but overall I loved it and at the end it felt like a great accomplishment. I estimate I walked around 60 miles in all and if you’re looking for a challenging but enjoyable walk in Wales — go for it.

-Brian

https://www.instagram.com/p/B3rIl8ZJy9u/

Well cut stone path leading down to Idwal Cottage where I concluded my journey

The Blue Danube: Budapest & Bratislava

Given that we were essentially exiled to eastern Europe for the summer (happily though!), I refused to waste this opportunity to see the famous Prague and Budapest of the new modern classic EuroTrip itinerary. But Brian was less than thrilled with following the beaten path, so for every one one of my heavily touristed cities, we agreed to go to one of his under-visited choices. So between Poland and my return to London at the end of August, we agreed on a series of week-long stays in Budapest, Bratislava, Brno and Prague. In this post, I will share our stories from Budapest and Bratislava — more to come on the other two!

Here we are in front of that ol’ blue Danube

Budapest

We took an overnight bus to Budapest from Kraków, which sounds like a torture devised by a madman, but in fact, the long-journey coaches in eastern (and most of central) Europe are reasonably clean, comfortable, and timely. Rolling across Slovakia through the misty night was hauntingly beautiful and, while not refreshing as a proper night’s sleep, we still arrived in Budapest the next morning eager to explore. Thanks, FlixBus!

Before we go any further, I have to admit that Brian was right (yes, it kills me). We had a fine time here, but on the whole we both felt that Budapest was over-hyped. Worth a visit certainly, but as you will come to know, Dear Reader, those forgotten cities like Bratislava and Brno were the real gems on our journey. With a high concentration of tourists in the summer, obviously, Budapest was crowded, dirty and filled with tourist traps like “ruined bars” and craft beer gardens crafted for collecting foreign dollars and pounds. BUT, I knew this and was still happy to see what all the fuss was about, even if the authenticity of the fuss was based on tourism and not native culture.

Pest

After a first uncomfortable encounter of a drugged out prostitute throwing bottle caps at acai bowl-eating tourists in a highly rated coffee shop near the main train station, we were ready to get stuck in with Budapest. We spent our first day after checking into our cute Airbnb loft exploring the Jewish quarter, poking our heads into New York Cafe, an opulent coffee house that opened in 1894, and enjoying some fine Hungarian fare, including hortobágyi palacsinta (savory stuffed pancakes), chicken paprikash with egg dumplings, some stewed rooster comb and balls and, of course, goulash. By dusk, we found ourselves well-fed and sleepy in the heart of Pest (no, that’s not a term of derision), looking across the blue Danube at Buda. We lazily took in the impressive sites of St. Stephen’s Basilica and the vast Hungarian Parliament Building. We were disappointed to find the opera house under construction, but enjoyed people watching on the snooty streets nearby.

A common sight in the 7th district

In Budapest’s 7th district we found a buzzing street of lads lads lads, food trucks, and ruined pubs. To clarify, ruined pubs are a once-edgy, now mandatory feature on the Budapest tourist circuit. These are what I’d call “dive bars with a European flair”, housed primarily in a languishing neighborhood. We went to the original, Szimpla, which sort of felt like a haunted, multi-story junk shop with several bars serving Jäger. It was…interesting, but not really the sort of sticky place we like to spend time. Leaving the pub, we came across a stall selling Hungarian chimney cakes. This wrapped pastry dessert is a traditional festive treat and is now sold year round in much of Budapest. They are traditionally rolled in sugar and now you can get so much more, including cocoa, cinnamon and filled with ice cream. Kinda like a less-buttery Auntie Anne’s cinnamon sugar pretzel – delicious!

Buda

The view of Pest from Buda

We devoted a sunny Sunday to exploring the picturesque Buda side of the city. Set upon a hill with a view of the sweeping view Danube and the vast reaches of Pest, this side of the city can easily be reached by bus, train or foot. This is home to Buda Castle, the Fisherman’s Bastion (super weird), Matthias Church, and the generally quaint stores and cafés filling in the castle district. It’s definitely worth a visit for the views alone, and we enjoyed wandering away from the tourist area and found ourselves winding down steep cobbled streets when, behold, we found the locals at the mall! We did indeed eat Hungarian food at a mall food court – I wouldn’t recommend it, but it was certainly interesting (and Brian liked his meal).

The quaint streets of Buda

Heading back up the hill, I started Googling “wine”, as I often do on a stroll-along weekend day. I read that there was a wine bar just at the border of the tourist track with excellent reviews and references to a cave. So, naturally, we had a destination!

But it proved near impossible to find. We circled round and round a Hilton and a Starbucks before finally, so hot we thought we’d melt, we went against everything we knew and entered the cool lobby of the hotel. After some snooping around, we saw some old Americans toddle down a corridor, so we followed, thinking they might be onto something. They weren’t, but we found a creepy staircase winding down into a dark pit that looked so unlike the rest of the hotel we knew that, at long last, we had found Faust Wine Cellar! It was very cool, literally.

Enjoying our wine tasting in Faust Cellar

This fabulous surprise within the walls of a 13th century cloister was one of the most enjoyable activities in our whole Eastern Europe trip, let alone Budapest. For something like $35 a person (which feels downright frivolous in Hungary) we enjoyed three hours of wine tasting of exclusively Hungarian wines and a verbal tour of Hungary’s impressive wine region – who knew!? And the wine was excellent. You may be wondering why, if it’s so good, you’ve never seen it offered on a menu or on sale in a decent wine store? That’s because it’s so good the Hungarians don’t want to share it with the rest of the world. Seriously, that’s why.

Oh, and the cheesy biscuits. Can’t forget the cheesy biscuits. It’s like a flippin’ Red Lobster with Brian emulating his dad asking for more cheesy biscuits every half hour. Called pogacsa these little scone-like treats were an excellent antidote to wine-induced hunger.

Back on the Pest side of Budapest

Back to Pest

I was working the rest of the week, but we made a few evening excursions and Brian had some solo daytime adventures. A great way to unwind and get some culture at the end of a long digital day was visiting the Baths. While there are several public bath options, we were near to the most popular and recommended option, Szechenyi. This bath house has 18 indoor and outdoor pools of hot spring water, steam rooms, spa services, and a couple of bars to be enjoyed throughout the day and evening. Set in a picturesque golden edifice from the early 1900s, we enjoyed jumping from cold to hot to deep to shallow baths and sneering at the French teenagers who couldn’t keep their bikini-clad bodies to themselves. After 90 minutes, we were adequately prune-y and hungry for more traditional Hungarian food, which we found at Paprika Vendéglő. I made a mistake in ordering and ended up with a plate full of goose liver – not a bad outcome – and we tried some traditional liquor, Zwack Unicum, which is imbibed as a bitter, medicinal (in all senses) shot.

Great Central Market…before the crowds

We also got up early one morning to visit Great Market Hall (also known as Central Market Hall) before my workday started, just as the vendors were setting up for the day. This late 19th century market is a two-story cavern brimming with paprika sachets, cured meats, dried fruits and nuts, and friendly old women. Since we beat the crowds and the heat, we were able to amble around unencumbered with a cup of coffee in hand. I definitely recommend this.

Margaret Island, Aquincum, and the worst museum

For those desiring something that smacks more of antiquity than the new-age Pest, and even the marbled hills of Buda, a short tram ride away outside of the city are the ruins of Aquincum. With a good-sized settlement, complete with a hilariously translated museum, and an exquisite (functional) recreation of the water organ that was played to appease the equites, this site is certainly worth a visit – and the the headache of figuring out how to get there.

Likewise, another site to entice the curious traveler is Margaret Island. A local favorite for ice cream, biking, boating, and swimming — it was also one of the few shady spots to be found in all of Budapest. Generously canopied trees cover the island which is veined by walking paths and ringed by a bike route. The island boasts a mysterious observation tower, a theatre, swimming pools, rentable go-karts for harassing pedestrians, and both contemporary and ancient ruins (clearly a theme in Budapest). While Brian went alone and suggested it would have been more pleasant with company, it had a warm atmosphere, certainly helped by the very characteristic hot weather.

Finally, the worst museum Brian has ever visited is in Budapest: The House of Terror. Not only confusing, extremely inaccurate, and poorly put together – it tended to exploit the suffering of those that were murdered and tortured by successive regimes of the Arrowcross and then Communist puppet state. Apparently, a holocaust museum is also being built in Budapest by the same creators that completely bends the truth about the Hungarian complicity in the systematic murder of Hungarian Jews. So, for that reason as well as the poor taste of this exhibition, please do not support it. At $20 a ticket, Brian was ashamed to say that the line was entirely made up of whiny American, German, and Chinese tourists. This was not a museum, it was a perversion of history designed to rake in cash for Viktor Orban. Don’t go!

Bratislava

Known for its cheap flights with easy access to Budapest and Vienna, Bratislava is often passed over as a throughway rather than a destination. What a mistake!

One of the many eye-catching art displays in Bratislava

Bratislava Proper

The central bit of the city is postcard-pretty: all cobbled streets, ancient churches and sunshine. After arriving by bus and depositing our bags at our inexpensive (but excellent) Airbnb, we went to the Old Market Hall (Stará tržnica) before the Saturday market of food, drink, and gifts closed for the afternoon. We immediately met a friendly young brewer who sold excellent pints while sharing his recommendations for Bratislava and upcoming Brno. Beer in hand, we explored the rest of the small market before moving on to more historical buildings in town.

St. Michael’s Gate, a well-known attraction, was Instagram-worthy for sure, but the many other old stone alleys and buildings were more eye-catching in my opinion. There are a number of unexpected art installations throughout too, reminding you of Bratislava’s tourist hotspot potential. Leaving the the thicket of the medieval old city track, we found a hip coffee shop to jolt us back to life before carrying on to the Blue Church.

Bratislava’s famed Blue Church

Though you may have thought it was dedicated to the worship of Disney, the Blue Church AKA The Church of St. Elizabeth is actually a part of the Hungarian secessionist sect of the Catholic church. It’s eye-catching and, and as you might have guesses, very blue. You won’t need to spend very long here, but it’s worth tracking it down.

Another place worth seeing is the castle, which is set up high overlooking the city and river. More enjoyable than the castle itself is the picturesque walk up, with cute cafés nestled into the stone alleyways leading to the top. We made sure to come back to these for a glass of crisp Slovakian wine as the sun set on our descent back into town.

Small Carpathian Mountains

The natural beauty of the Small Carpathians

We decided to take advantage of Slovakia’s abundant natural beauty by heading off for a hike in the Small Carpathians. We took a tram to a public bus and rode north into the hills to begin our hike in Marianka. When we arrived at a simple crossroads – the end of the line – the driver kindly pointed us in the direction of where we could pick up the trailhead, which basically began right on a pilgrimage route. Winding our way behind a small development, we did indeed find the first religious marker indicating we were going the right way. After the first half hour of walking we came upon a church and valley full of small Christian shrines. From here, we ended up on a mountain bike path that we then simply followed through the woods for a few quiet hours, marveling at the old growth around us. We ate some mysterious, but delicious vine-ripened berries when we emerged in a sunny patch in the park and before we knew it we were walking through northeast Bratislava, just a tram ride away from our Airbnb.

For a late post-hike lunch, we visited Slovak Pub in the heart of town where we ate hearty Slovakian classics like bryndzové halušky (potato dumplings in sheep’s cheese, often served with pancetta cubes) and cesnaková polievka (creamy garlic soup) in a generous bread bowl. This kitschy old pub is known on the (comparatively tame) tourist track of Bratislava, but it’s still a fun visit and the food is inexpensive and tasty.

View of Bratislava Castle from the park

I was working for the rest of our visit to Slovakia, but we did manage to get down to the far side of the Danube one evening to experience sunset in the park, Sad Janka Kráľa. What a spectacular view watching the skyline fall into shadow against the pink sky over this famous European river! We then crossed back into town on the Most SNP bridge, often called the UFO bridge for the reason that the structure has a UFO sitting atop it which was another great way to get in touch with Bratislava.

Brian also made the journey to Devin Castle one day and showed off to me how amazing it was and how much it sucks I didn’t see it…I guess we’ll just have to go back someday.

Overlooking the Danube from the 13th century fort

-Sophie

 

Poland: Wrocław & Kraków, an intro to the mysteries of the East(ern Europe)

Wroclaw is a lovely city for strolling and relaxing, combining old world charm with convenient intercity transport links

Polish Homecoming

Arriving in Poland for me was surprisingly emotional. For the past few years, I have been researching that half of my family tree and turning up only minimal results. I’ve learned quite a bit about what my Polish ancestors did after they came to the United States, but I still only have theories about which town they’re even from in Poland.

So, in part, this trip was a cathartic experience because it allowed me to rediscover my roots, even if they’re only notional and generic roots. However, when I got off the plane in Wrocław on a mild summer morning, it did feel a little like coming home. Poland, in many ways, resembles Missouri. It’s a beautiful landscape – mostly gently rolling hills, largely populated with deciduous forests and farmland, and the people aren’t all that different (in that they’re pretty much all white and the government is pretty racist).

Poland is undergoing a slight patriotic renaissance — I’m all for a strong cultural identity, but it isn’t all good with the PiS

Poland is having a tough time, governmentally speaking (and we all know they’re not the only ones). Their Law and Justice Party have attempted to abolish the independence of their judiciary, and the country has now been formally sanctioned as a result. We saw several protests in the town square in Wrocław.

However, we largely avoided politics. So, our first order of business in Wrocław was to find our accommodation, an Airbnb for us of course. The town is very well connected by trams (as it turns out most of Eastern Europe is). They are adorable little streetcars that people actually use to get around. However, we couldn’t figure out how in the hell to pay for the damn things, so we called an Uber. It was easier, because we had Sophie’s red monster bag (25kg!! — I know because I carried it up every staircase east of Berlin…).

Coffee, where are you?

We needed more coffee because all we had had was a gigantic (and not very good) Pret coffee before leaving London just a few hours before. So we decided to go walk in the park on the vague notion from our host that “there is coffee that way”. The park was beautiful — and it brings me to a sad, but true admission about my preconceptions about Eastern Europe.

Sophie is smiling now — but you should have seen her before she had coffee…

I had this strange, and very misguided, concept that Eastern Europe would be some kind of developing world hellscape. I have no idea where that came from — but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Throughout our trip, I was struck by how backwards that concept was, and in fact, how much more advanced of a society Eastern Europe is than the United States. It’s frankly embarrassing — I’ll say it. And I’ll give you three reasons.

1. It’s safe. All the countries we visited — save a few sketchy experiences — felt and are, according to statistics, WAAAAAAY safer than the United States. People don’t own guns in Europe, if they do want to kill one another, they are civilized about it and use a knife or blunt instrument. In the past, they relied on the commissariat to do it systematically.
2. Public transportation is the mark of a decent society. For example, the trams — they’re cute and they get you places on time. All of the cities we traveled in have these little cars to zip you to your destination. But there were also an extensive network of buses, minibuses, trains, subways, and easy hire bikes.
3. They’re clean. Apart from Budapest, which was downright disgusting, these cities aren’t trashed like so many “developed” world cities. True, they have a slightly different concept of what ‘tidy’ is, some of the post-Soviet buildings are a bit beat up — but I dig it.

Trams will zip you around to whatever part of the city you want to see — transport in Eastern Europe is impressively extensive and cheap.

Now, what the hell is there to do in Wrocław? Here’s 10 things we did, and mostly enjoyed…

1) Hunt gnomes: There are some 200+ of these little guys scattered throughout the city, it makes for a fun diversion to keep your eyes peeled for them. It’s worth a read about how they came into existence, check out their wikipedia to learn about their anti-communist, pro-labor roots.

2) Sample Polish fare & beers, in fact, it was pretty difficult to find non-Polish food, unlike so many other cities. I’m not going to say Polish food is the best food in the world, but it’s very comforting.  The beer isn’t as good, but you’d better get used to it because no one will give you water — much like the rest of Europe.

3) Craft coffee/craft cocktails — surprisingly, yes. Go to Lot Kury for a steaming teapot of gin.

4) Dodge Chinese tourists’ selfie stick as they whip em’ around

5) Explore the charming old town square

Generally speaking, the old town is very cute and full of sprawling cobblestone squares. Wroclaw survived the Soviet and Nazi occupation with a surprising amount of its charm intact.

6) Go to a milk bar, in fact I insist, comrade.  You can get your daily allotment of food (a couple dishes and a drink) for about $5. It’s also the experience, families, groups of teenagers, and old grumpy couples shoveling Polish food down their throats at high speed and chasing it with beet juice or whatever sweet purple stuff came in those cups…

7) Check out some weird sculptures — and there are many all across the place, some much darker-themed than others.

This one is happier… I think

I don’t even want to know what sad genocide this commemorates

8) See the Jewish quarter (or what’s left of it) and a couple nearby cathedrals that weren’t destroyed.

One of the better preserved churches in Poland which survived allied bombing, Soviet occupation, and the scourge of modern development

9) Rent a city bike and zoom around the tiny parks dotted throughout the city.

10) Eat a donut.  Seriously, they’re so good.

To be honest, this list is embarrassingly simple, but what we liked best about Wrocław is that we felt like locals within a day. It’s a small, ‘chill’ city where the woman at the smoked fish counter knows your name and is already tired of your stupid order that you can’t pronounce. As a recently named European City of Culture, it truly is worth a visit. Onwards!

Kraków

Kraków isn’t as charming as Wrocław, there’s no way around that because it’s saturated with the kind of tourists that will irritate. American and Chinese tourists are in competition to see who can drip sweat on things first and they putter around incessantly with selfie sticks and leave puddles of garlic butter in their wake.

A quick glance at the town centre of Kraków should be enough, it’s a tourist trap

Despite that, it’s still a pretty interesting city with one of the largest, most walkable old towns in Europe. It’s also much bigger, and that goes with the name recognition, of course. One of the best features of the city is the green ring around the center. You can walk in a full circle starting at the castle, all around center city, without having to leave the shade. Of course, also with a bigger city comes the problem of more bums. However, it’s difficult to tell the bums from the drunk tourists and stag partying Brits (is there actually a difference?), and you’re much less likely to be hassled by the bums.

Kraków is a lovely city to walk around, more than just exploring the extensive old town, a few things worth doing include:

1. A vodka bar — It’s not what you think! These are little arcade style places that have a variety of flavored, lesser proof vodkas such as coffee, hazelnut, cherry, and apricot, among hundreds of other flavors.
   

   The brightly colored array of options at a Kraków vodka bar

2. Castle — The ‘castle’ and the dragon’s den are very fun. There is a legend that a dragon lives beneath the castle in a cave and so, naturally, there is a fire-breathing statue to appease the tourists (who are the reason the dragon is extinct). The castle isn’t as much a castle as a conglomeration of stones and several walled cathedrals, however the promontory gives you a good view of the parts of Kraków you’ll never visit (because they’re outside the center where the plebeians live).
   

   The gate to the castle

3. Food – there is some great traditional and not traditional food in Kraków. We can totally recommend a place called Chata, which has that ridiculously over-the-top peasant-style building with sheep skin rugs on top of wooden benches — it’s cozy and will charm you, and if not, you suck and need to relax. But the food is authentic and pleasantly heavy. Super inexpensive too!

Salt of the Earth: And we call it a mine. A mine!

I am slightly ashamed to say this was not only possibly the coolest thing on this trip, but potentially one of the coolest excursions I’ve ever been on (Yes, yes Sophie was right). Why is a a salt mine cool, you ask? I have no idea, except that to venture deep below the earth into a place that directly inspired Tolkien’s Moria and is the quietest place you’ve ever been is just thrilling.

See the resemblance to Tolkien’s dwarf kingdoms?

Even the legends of Dwarves inhabiting these mines doesn’t seem to far-fetched once you enter this strange underground realm. In that mysterious world, deep beneath the ground (disturbingly so), the salt air has preserved the same timbers that were used to construct the original mine some 1200 years ago. People have been mining salt from this deposit since neolithic times and you get that creepy, but incredibly ancient feeling when you wander through the maze-like corridors of this place. Among the seemingly endless, labyrinthine expanse are thousands and thousands of sculptures that the miners made over the years in their spare time, celebrating Poland, Catholicism, and folklore.

A depiction of the origin story of the mine, this dude gave a princess some salt, and she was like “WTF?”

Unlike what we believe, our guide, who was an enthusiastic gentleman, dissuaded us from our dubious belief that the miner’s life was one of a serf. In fact, miners in the heyday of the mine were well-paid and unionized. They were paid partially in salt (which in those times was far, far more valuable than gold).

You can only access the mine through a guided tour (you do NOT want to get lost down there!) and the ticketing system is a bit rigid. Though we generally hate structured tours, we opted for a full “pick-up and drop-off” tour from Kraków rather than attempt to travel to the mines ourselves and I think this was the right choice. The mines are amazing, but disorienting and I wouldn’t have wanted to navigate a train system to get back to the city afterwards.

Kazimierz

Kazimierz is the Jewish quarter of Kraków, and this is another bit of the city well worth the trip. It’s the site of a food renaissance with a pleasing mix of traditional Polish-Jewish food as well as hip Israeli restaurants dotted throughout vibrant neighborhood. There’s a fair bit of historical stuff about the ghetto as well, including some store fronts which have been restored to before they were destroyed and boarded up.

Not much to say about it other than go ramble around it for an afternoon, definitely worth the time.

Revel in the rebirth of Jewish culture in Poland in Kraków’s Jewish quarter, there is some excellent, hipstery Israeli food

Some dilapidated areas near the Jewish quarter

Get outside the city

It’s worth renting a bike just to enjoy the extensive network of bike paths that spiders out from Kraków. I spent a day trying to get to the old forest outside the city, but finding a wealth of interesting sites along the way prevented me from reaching my destination, including: apples growing everywhere, an old nazi bunker that was cordoned off, a random dinosaur museum, a beautiful but inaccessible monastery, and a mysterious crematorium that was closed for business. In fact, when I found the bunker, I also found a wonderful apple tree and got to eat a couple of perfect apples while I pondered how to get to the forest. Unfortunately, I never could figure out how to enter the forest, but it was a lovely bike ride.

A well-maintained park a short walk from the center city full of statues…

You gotta love Poland, it’s just the right amount of weird just before it gets scary. The people aren’t what I would call friendly per se, but they’re interesting and they’ve definitely got a great, dark sense of humor that’s like, “What other bad shit could possibly happen that’s worse than what already happened?” It’s not quite funny, but in this lovely country life goes on, and the Polish economy is humming. I’m sure there’s never been a better time to explore this gem of a country.

Looking back at the city, you can get an awfully long way on the network of bike paths that connect the city to the countryside

-Brian

Not Your Mom’s Madrid

If you’ve been to Madrid before, you’ve probably visited the royal palace, some beautiful plazas, and the many other great tourist attractions this city has to offer. Of the handful of European capitals that I’ve been to before, I would suggest that Madrid’s features are some of the most resplendent and memorable. But the world does not need another blog post about the obvious appeals of this Spanish city. Hence, I offer you here five other things to do when in Madrid.

The unique decor of Zombie Bar

1. Explore the “Brooklyn” of Madrid

It is well known, apparently, that Chueca is the hippest neighborhood in Brookl-I-mean-Madrid. And it is indeed funky, but it’s starting to turn chi-chi rather than chai-chai. However, it’s neighbor Malasaña has inherited that grungy, gentrifying vibe from Chueca. Part red light district, part old family businesses, this area is now interspersed with cute clothing boutiques, artisanal cocktail bars, and Instagram-worthy food-porn restaurants. By pure happenstance, our Airbnb was located here and we had a great time exploring the neighborhood and finding some good seats from which to people watch. Much like riding the L train as it goes from west Manhattan to Brooklyn, the outfits quickly digressed into overalls, mom jeans, and crop tops. You could lose hours wandering around here or drinking in Zombie Bar with the light-up Ronald McDonald head. You know, the usual.

Baos and dim sum at Toy Panda in Madrid

2. Ethnic Cuisine

Of course, Madrid offers excellent native cuisine from pigs ears to tapas classics gone gastronomized (i.e. liquified tortillas). Our favorite meals, though, were some ethnic influences brought in through the active trail of immigrants to this cosmopolitan city. We ate a three course Peruvian meal in Malasaña for only €10 at Ceviche Madrid, including a hearty portion of ceviche (obviously) and stone fruit jelly for dessert. For a more casual meal, we ate baos at Toy Panda not once, but twice within a five day span in a city with a gazillion fabulous restaurants. If that doesn’t tell you something about these amazing Chinese bun sandwiches, I don’t know what will! We loved everything we tried from the wasabi mayo tempura prawn bun to the Korean sriracha sauced crispy squid bun to the wide array of dim sum. Nothing in Toy Panda’s dishes could be faulted, each bite was perfect. Except for the last bite, because it made me sad.

You never know what you might see…

3. The Lesser-Known Collections

Madrid is famous for its art museums, namely El Prado and La Reina Sofia. Most people burn out after one or two art museums per vacation, but People of The World, don’t give up! Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza has a fantastic collection including works from Caravaggio to Dali to Renoir to name just a few. Arranged with the oldest pieces on the top floor so that patrons are obliged to work their way down to the modern exhibitions on the lower floors, this museum offers a great morning activity and is easily located on the same stretch of road as many other major Madrid museums. Best of all, there were so few people there, even during tourist season. No one with a big head to block out Cezanne, yes!

A Dixieland band jamming in La Latina

4. Sunday Street Party

We were fortunate to be in Madrid for a Sunday morning, which allowed us to go down to La Latina, way past Plaza Mayor, to the Il Rastro market. The market itself was overcrowded and offered the same standard issue stalls selling “hemp pants actually probably possibly made in or near Nepal”, but there were street performers all over that kept the crowds upbeat and moving. Hands down, the best musicians we saw were right at the top of the market and they were killing it with Dixieland standards. Situated in a mercifully shady courtyard, this group of artists were jamming out with huge smiles on their faces as small children danced clumsily in front of the “stage”. Next time, I will skip the market and just bring a picnic chair to watch the street acts at their best, just as the locals were doing.

Sunset on the Gran Via

5. Rooftop Bar Market

Mercado San Anton is still a little off the beaten tourist path, but it won’t stay this way for long. Situated on a quiet street in the “Brooklyn” part of town, this market is comprised of three upper levels that are pristine and visually appealing to anyone with a tongue. The first story houses about twenty or so food vendors selling fresh produce, perfect pastries, and a wide variety of charcuterie. The next level up offers more prepared foods, a small art gallery, and a colorful bar with a secluded open air balcony. The top floor is an open-air bar with a wide skyline view of the neighborhood that dazzles during sunset. In short, there is something for everyone here. So everyone should go. Except don’t, this is Madrid’s best kept secret.

That’s the funny thing about traveling, isn’t it? There’s usually a reason places are visited by droves of visitors — because it is historically significant or offers a unique sighting of something that cannot be experienced elsewhere. But when something becomes a must-see, it is promptly ruined by the foot traffic, the rules, and the 25,000 photos of the exact same doorway posted to Facebook. See this recent article from The Guardian on UNESCO heritage designations ruining places. Seriously, we are one hundred percent guilty of this.

We often say to each other, “Wow, it would be so cool to have visited this place 200 years ago, there’d be no one here! It would actually be a novel experience. Our friends and family wouldn’t believe what we’d seen. Souvenirs would actually be treasured. It would be so fascinating!” However, if that were the case — that we tried to travel 200 years ago, we’d be pretty much out of luck between the prohibitive cost of travel and the basic resource of time it would have required. So really, I can’t complain that Madrid has been trampled over by a million gagillion people. The resources that make it possible for everyone else to enjoy Madrid are the same resources that I benefit from. And I’m glad I went.

-Sophie

Bilbao: You Couldn’t Basque for Anything More

Bilbao

The first thing we noticed in the bright and shiny modern Bilbao airport, apart from nicely-dressed passengers deplaning there alongside us, was the first language that appeared on the signage. “That’s not Spanish,” I said to Sophie, “Too many Xs”. My research about Bilbao, insensitively consisting of Googling “Bilbao?” had suggested that Euskadi was a language we would encounter, but I hadn’t realized that we would encounter it to this extent. My first reaction was disappointment, I had thoroughly enjoyed practicing my Spanish in Sevilla and was afraid I wouldn’t have a chance to in Bilbao. Turns out that fear was unfounded. Everyone in Bilbao speaks Spanish, but the will to bring back the Euskadi language, which was much damaged by its prohibition during the Franco years, is strong. As our Airbnb host explained, the language is being encouraged so that the cultural roots of the Basque people can be celebrated. “In twenty years or so,” he told us,”the kids who are learning it in school now will grow up and there will be many more speakers.”

The Basque people, like the Galicians and Catalonians, are constantly seeking independence because of their cultural and linguistic differences

The language itself is very interesting, belonging to its own linguistic group separate from any other language. After a long period of cultural repression, disdain seems to have given way to a profound cultural pride, such energy that is exhibited in all its glory in events like Aste Nagusia (the celebration in Bilbao of the Assumption of Mary). From an outside perspective, the festival might appear to be a drinking competition, but with some insight our understanding of the festival was expanded to a drinking competition that is broken into local chapters and groups called cuadrillas.

Folk band marching through the Casco Viejo

It was an excellent circumstance under which to visit the city, because I think we were given a window into the soul of the city, its excesses, its identity politics, and its local pride exhibited. Bilbao was an industrial capital, before its spirit rose like a phoenix from rusted factories to become a cultural capital, site of the modern art exhibiting Guggenheim museum, and a number of other modernist experiments in architecture and cultural expression. The confluence of the modern and ancient cities doesn’t create the clash you might expect, instead it provides just the right mix of both to provide a visitor with the convenience of modern comfort and all the mystery of old world Europe.

People watch a folk dance as part of the Aste Nagusia festival in the Plaza Nueva

The Casco Viejo, the old neighborhood, was where we stayed and it is overflowing with character. It was the epicenter of the Aste Nagusia festival with folk dancing taking place in the Plaza Nueva five minutes away and traditional pipe bands marching down the street at odd intervals. The only truly uncomfortable part of the festival was the hour long fireworks show that commenced every night at 10:30 and literally rattled the windows of our accommodation. The endurance of the festival-goers was inspiring, some of them coming home from the festivities at 6 or 7 am just as we were having our morning coffee.

The Casco Viejo is the old town in Bilbao. Great place to eat and wander aimlessly

 

‘Pinxtos’

In Bilbao, the food is also a part of the culture that has been positively affected by the cultural revolution. “Pinxtos” as they are called, are the answer to the rest of Iberia’s tapas, it means a “pinch” though the portions are usually more generous. Like clockwork every night the denizens of Bilbao swarm into the pinxtos bars and consume an outrageous amount of decadently rich, gout-inducing bites of tempura-fried and bread-laden goodness. If there’s any modern art worth seeing (read: tasting) in Bilbao, it’s these little delights. My shortlist of candidates for a tasting was pulled from a number of sources and they did not disappoint, with few exceptions.

Fishy bites at El Globo

El Globo: Good

El Globo is like a frenetic food auction. The experience trumps the food, though the food is certainly good. Despite the crowd, there is ample space at the tiny bars to stand and wolf down your tapas. Figuring out what to order is the challenge. Long rows of various delectable meats, cheeses, and seafood creations are lined along both bars. This establishment is a good place to practice shouting your Spanish, they don’t appear to understand English which made it an enjoyable challenge trying to describe obscure foods, many of which have completely different names than the ones we’ve learned. The best dishes here have something pickled on them, which seems to be their emphasis.

An exotic mix of pinxtos

Panko: Good

Panko is, as the name suggests, a celebration of bread and more succinctly, things fried in breadcrumbs. Their selection of wines and pinxtos added variety to our evening, and the prices are very reasonable. The mushroom croqueta was delicious and like all of their pinxtos, atop a piece of bread.

The pinxtos selection at El Huevo Frito

El Huevo Frito: El Mejor (the best)

Easily the best place we ate in all of our time in Spain. Each exquisite bite was adorned with a quail egg, so imagine that with a perfect bit of roasted duck and a raspberry compote on top of a toasty nibble of bread. In hindsight, we could have eaten here every night. I told the woman who helped us that it was our favorite place in the city we had eaten and she beamed at us proudly. Judging by the crowd, the locals like this place as well.

Bar Charly: Disappointment

This bar was too hipster for us even to enter. The cool kids were there and we got nervous and left. The food looked fine, but the prices were too high compared with the rest of the places and shit was just getting too artisenal. This was in Plaza Nueva, which was as beautiful as it was difficult to find.

Gure Toki: Not for us

If Bar Charly had all the hipsters, this place had the yuppies. While the food was too experimental for us to even include in our pinxtos tour, I have to give them an A for aesthetics, the liquid nitrogen-infused tuna eyeball on gluten-free toast looked incredible (pun intended!).

Victor Montes: Just ok

Traditional, uncomplicated pinxtos in Plaza Nueva. While the food can’t be technically faulted, the ambiance as stuffy and the staff was rude, like so rude they threw our change on the ground.

Life Beyond Food

Enough with the food, Bilbao has much more to offer. For an enchanting walk, look no further than a stroll that begins in the Casco Viejo and terminates by the Guggenheim. Wind around through a few of the ancient streets and eventually you’ll arrive at the river with your choice of bridge. I recommend the super modern footbridge that will surely remind you of the Millenium Bridge in London.

Outside the Guggenheim, a dog was covered in flowers

The city is incredibly pedestrian friendly and simple to navigate. Along the walk you’ll witness an incredible variety of architecture, from the very old to the very hideous former council flats now chic apartments to the just-put-up-yesterday corporate high rise.

View from the river side of the Guggenheim Museum

For a quick jaunt outside the city, take public transport out to the coast Bidezabal. A lovely walk is only 30 minutes from the city and Bilbao’s public transport is disturbingly clean and quiet. The coast is beautiful (once you escape the industrial side of the mouth of the river) and you can enjoy watching paragliders tempt fate above the rocky cliffs.

A sportsman parasailing on the beautiful Basque coast near an abandoned bunker

Pamplona

Beyond Bilbao, we spent some time in Pamplona and took a day trip to ritzy San Sebastian. We (sensibly) visited Pamplona after the San Fermin running of the bulls to appreciate the feel of a small, calm city. Our Airbnb apartment was five stories up a rickety building with a few hundred years of history. The windows overlooked the cobbled streets of the bulls run and the smell of dark chocolate garrotes wafted up from the ground floor bakery, Pastelería Beatriz Pamplona.

View of the cathedral in Pamplona

While this city isn’t overflowing with activities for tourists, we kept ourselves occupied by listening to live flamenco during the Flamenco on Fire festival and by ambling around the ornate cathedral with a trippy museum display basically spelling out humanity’s doom. Our hostess provided us with a long list of restaurant and tapas bar recommendations which we sampled. One of the most interesting bites we had was sea urchin chowder served in it’s spiny shell.

While we had a nice, relaxing time in Pamplona, it may be the sort of place you only visit for a night or two if you don’t have any concrete plans. During the off season, the tourist attractions are minimal and the hours kept by shop keepers are limited. Nevertheless, if you want to experience a bit of Navarra’s culture, Pamplona is gorgeous and friendly.

A collection of creepy religious artifacts in the Pamplona Cathedral

San Sebastian

San Sebastian, notorious for it’s upper class appeal, was a treat to visit (but assuredly too expensive to live in). We took an ALSA bus early one morning from Bilbao and arrived into San Sebastian before all of the billionaires recovered from their caviar-induced hangovers. We found coffee and pastries at a friendly cafe near the river and made our way over to the oldest part of the city near the beach.

“Regatta gala” at the harbor in San Sebastian

There is an excellent walk we took up to the castle and statue of Jesus set high up on a hill overlooking the town. Along the way there are excellent vantage points to spot swaths of yachts and the mountains in the distance. To cool off, we waded into the surf down along the shore and were amazed with how clear and refreshing (but not cold) the water was. If we didn’t have another bus ride later in the day, we surely would have thrown ourselves into the calm water for a few sunny hours.

 

 

We’ll definitely be dreaming of this beach in January. Ah, the but the dream had to end, so we hopped on a train to Madrid and bid goodbye to the North of Spain.

-Brian & Sophie