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

It’s time to go to Riga

https://www.instagram.com/p/BmySZhInKVW/?hl=en&taken-by=we_quit_our_jobs_to_travel

I really can’t say enough what a great city Riga is.  It’s been touted as an upcoming tourist hot spot in Europe — and it’s easy to see why.

A view of the market and central train station from the top of the Soviet-era skyscraper

The largest city in the Baltic states, Riga still has a very small city feel. It’s walkable, but also very accessible by tram, train, bus, and mini-bus.  The city is so hip that in many ways it feels less like Eastern Europe and more like a Western/Central European city, like a Berlin or Prague. However, it is much cleaner than both and smells much less like piss. Also, sorry Berlin, but the beers are better. But, before you can have a beer — you must get to the city.

The city is chocked full of architecture, and one only needs look up to see the different eras

 

Arriving — made simple

One of the best parts of my experience in Riga was the ease of arriving from the airport.  Just grab a bus waiting literally outside the terminal, and head off on your way to the center of the city. On the way you’ll head past the incredible mix of architecture that made Riga worthy of a UNESCO designation. Apart from the old town with its surprisingly intact ancient buildings, there are a number of churches, sprawling parks, towering sleek and modern (but relatively small) sky scrapers, the soaring monuments to a proudly independent Latvia, and of course the dominating stalwarts of Soviet occupation.

The House of the Blackheads in the heart of the UNESCO heritage old town

Micro-brews and weird country beers

In Riga, there are a number of unique experiences for the hop-lover in you.  I would highly recommend stopping in Alus Haus.  The selection of Latvian beers is extensive, and the bartenders are friendly enough to make suggestions, and offer tips about travel in and around Riga.

“You must go to Jurmala.” Insisted the bartender, it’s beautiful.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s like a pine forest, but on the beach. Forest, beach, cabins…. Beautiful.”

Another recommendation he gave me was to head to the brewery at Labietis. That one I immediately decided to pursue. The brewery itself was hard to find, but so very worth the search — anyway, it’s the journey that makes the destination worth the beer awaiting you.

Good beer with a cool Babylonian-looking dude’s head as the logo — no explanation here

The brewery was situated in a confusing old factory, which had been converted into a vegan/asian food mall. It took me a minute to find the entrance, down what seemed like an old abandoned street filled with dilapidated industrial buildings. But, when I stepped in and asked, “Is this the brewery?” a stocky man in an apron smiled widely and said, “You found it.”

The place smelled like cereal, the hops and grains being cooked as I sampled the beer. Behind the glass I could see bespectacled and uniformed hipsters stirring their hops with care.

I tried a few of the beers offered that day (they switch them out regularly); the Latvian take on an APA, their forest beer, and their more standard lager.  The beers were great, each one I had was distinct, really professionally finished, and crafted with care.

The brewery was a bit tough to locate in an old factory, behind some broken down machinery — this added to the atmosphere

Jurmala

The beach town of Jurmala is actually a collection of little towns that have, over time, been joined together by the sprawl of newly-constructed beach houses.  The place has that distinct feel of a beach town, with ice cream stands overflowing onto the street, and overpriced but badly-made coffee being sold on every corner. Accessing the beach is surprisingly easy. Just get off the train at one of five or so stops along the coast and head right down to the water. The beach itself stretches from the national park Kemeru at one end, to the regional park Ragakapa at the other end (which is basically an unincorporated bit of trees). I walked from the Jurmala stop to Bulduri along the beach, before deciding to get a minibus the rest of the way to Ragakapa. If I would have had more time, I think it would have been nice to walk the whole way along the beach. It was lovely.

Ragakapa, a fairly large bit of unadultered forest that the locals use as a thoroughfare between their bungalows and their yachts

The beach on a fair day, but the water was bitterly cold and full of dismembered communist party members

The beach stretches a LONG way… I walked about 7k along, but you can walk from Ragakapa to the national park

Latvian Jersey Shore??

Ragakapa was definitely worth a walk through, and I regret not getting down to Kemerū which is supposed to be awesome. There’s just going to have to be a next time.

Places to eat

There were a couple places I really recommend visiting, for either the atmosphere or the offering.  Of course, Riga impressed me greatly with the breadth of food and drink offered.

The freedom monument, part of the time there were a contingent of dudes with assault rifles guarding it (there’s a bit of tension with a dictator nearby whose name starts with a P and ends with shithead)

To be fair, I found one great place from another blog  that was a list of Soviet places to visit.  Honestly, there were no Soviet vibes in the place, so that was confusing – maybe they’ve remodeled.  On the other hand, the food was seriously worth the trip, and it was so centrally-located that it made it easy to get to Bufete Gauja. I had the traditional Latvian potato pancakes with salad and radishes.  They were basically unforgettable.  Their house beer was slightly more forgettable.  In hindsight, I wish I would have had the daily offering, which everyone was eating — but I was too stupid to say, “I’ll have what he’s having”. That’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned in Eastern Europe. Have the daily offering, it’s usually like €3 and a mountain of food — and if the locals are eating it, you’re probably much better off.

By my final day in Riga, I learned this lesson again, I as I searched high and low (seriously like four hours) around old town until I found a place where none of the menus or signs were in English.  Then, I walked in and pointed to the sign that said something in Latvian about the daily offering. It turned out to be a good choice, I got an excellent, hearty soup and a thick piece of chicken breaded in a weird but wonderful spice mix, and a beetroot salad for‎ €3.50.

Another excellent place that I was lucky enough to be close to was a charming little vegan cafe called Sweet Therapy.  They asked me “What kind of milk do you want?” with my latté (my go-to coffee in Europe since otherwise you get a tiny tiny sip of espresso when you ask for a coffee). “Um… cow… I said…”

The girl shook her head, “We’re vegan.”

“Good for you.” I said, “How about… soy?”

“What are you doing in Riga?” She asked, “Work?” I laughed.

“Guess I’m just looking.” I said, “It’s lovely. A beautiful city.”

She shrugged, “It’s fine.”

This was a common question, “What the hell are you doing here?” Emphasis on here. As in, why would you come to Riga? Well, now I know.

The one other food item that was honestly a “must” was sprotes.  Especially Riga Gold sprotes.  I ate three or four cans of these heavenly little smoked fish.  They are like sardines meets smoked salmon.  I already miss them.

Oh sprotes! How I have missed your smoky, fishy goodness…

Sightseeing

There are actually a lot of sights to take in in Riga.  Of course, there is the Academy of Arts and Sciences, the Soviet-era tower that is the most imposing piece of architecture in the city.  It’s about €5 to go up, but really, the view (and the experience of taking the old clunky elevator up) was worth it.  From there you can see the gigantic, other-wordly Soviet radio tower.  It’s the tallest building in the Baltic states (according to the outdated plaque on top of the building), but it is amazing.  It’s like the Seattle Space Needle, but functional and way more intriguing.

So cool… The radio tower is the single coolest structure I’ve ever seen. It adds a layer of intrigue that it is built to outlast earthquakes, nuclear blasts, and tsunamis, etc.

Of course, you’ll want to spend some time wandering around the old town.  There are numerous old buildings like the House of the Blackheads and the imposing churches.  Note the roosters atop the churches, in place of crosses, the Lutherans in the Baltic states, and purportedly elsewhere, stick chickens on top of their churches.  IDFK why, but it’s weird — and amusing.  There are also a collection of parks throughout the city that are nicely-maintained and worth a stroll.

Orthodox, Lutheran, Catholic, take your pick! #Churchesfordays

Off the beaten path

One of the weirder experiences was when I started walking in the direction of an old tower I saw from the top of the Arts and Sciences building.  I was intrigued by this ancient-looking tower, a pair of them actually, that were stuck right in the middle of a grove of trees.  So, I had to go and check them out.  My journey took me through a somewhat sketchy bit of town where there were more abandoned buildings than occupied ones, but it was quiet and eventually I found the tower.  It was a bit anti-climactic, but it was an interesting adventure.  Again, it’s the journey that makes the destination worth while.

A random street I found on the way to the random tower

The largest church, which I conveniently forgot the name of and I didn’t pay 10 euros to climb up

A dementor wanders the streets

I just love this ancient jank car picture

The parks in Riga are not to be underestimated — they’re gorgeous and well-kept, and there are minimal crazy people living in them

A Soviet era graveyard I stumbled through after too many samples at Labeitis

Old town 1

Old town 2

I asked the bartender at the Bier Haus what the towers were.

“Those towers… yes, we have them.  I have no idea what they are.  They’re just here.”

One of a series of inexplicable towers scattered throughout Riga… Apparently they form a void in the collective memory of the city

There’s a lot about Riga that was inexplicable, but I have to say that added to its charm.  The country has been occupied for much of its modern history, but has managed to eek out a cultural identity of its own which is really cementing itself now.  I think Riga deserves recognition as one of the most interesting cities in Europe, and I’m sure before long it will get that recognition.  Hopefully, that won’t destroy the character that I found so charming, amusing, and generally fascinating.

 

-Brian

 

Sikkim and Darjeeling: A former Buddhist kingdom and a tea-soaked adventure

 

Little villages are scattered along the steep road to Darjeeling

 

Getting there

Flying into Bagdogra is an experience in itself. This remote airport in the northeast of India is strictly a ‘no photographs’ location. Only around 100 miles from the Chinese border, the Indian air force keeps a stash of bombers there, ready to go, in case their Chinese neighbors get handsy at the border. There are plenty of serious looking mustachioed dudes with submachine guns standing around nervously.

Deplaning though, you would almost think you’re in a cafeteria — the 80s paneling, the rows of oddly arranged chairs, and then armed guards asking for your visa (you need special permission to enter most areas around there). You get a quick rundown with a metal detector, which is unusual when leaving an airport… But then again, many people arriving are traveling to Sikkim, which was not too recently its own country, and as mentioned shares a border with the ever aggressive China.

Our first stop was Darjeeling. The majestic and mysterious West Bengalese city synonomous with tea, trains, tranquility and Kachenchunga (the world’s 3rd tallest peak — depending on how you measure).

Darjeeling was merely a stop off, a recommendation from our friend, Rudy (he’s been everywhere) who heartily recommended a day or two to chill there amongst the tea. It was lovely — and we certainly did chill — to the bone. As we left Bagdogra, the soot, sweat, and grime of the small city (and there was a lot for such a small city!) faded away. Soon, in our formerly sweaty shorts and t-shirts we were shivering our way to an altitude of 6,700 feet in a matter of hours, watching as the sun sank into the distant smog of West Bengal.

The smoggy sunset on the way up the mts to Darjeeling

The air up here was (mostly) clean and fresh. We rolled through the cool evening mist passing towns with those half finished concrete buildings you find throughout southeast Asia, little settlements with houses dotted in among the trees, sometimes with faces peeking out calling children to dinner, or people carrying laundry baskets. Through lush greenery, we rose. Our driver, completely oblivious to our existence, rolled his windows down and barreled onward roaring up the winding path, dangling off the mountain at times, not phased by the fear of falling thousands of feet to a fiery death.

Darjeeling

Finally, around 8pm or so, in the freezing dark, we arrived in Darjeeling. Our hotel was a simple multi-story concrete structure – basically a refrigerator with a functioning toilet (hooray!) and a bed. We put on four layers of clothes, mostly t-shirts, I bundled up in what I could, and Sophie’s toes blackened in anticipation of a hard night’s sleep.

Actually, I slept pretty well. We had our run of the kitchen, “What would you like?” they asked. Unable to read Ghorka or Bengali, we were content to point at the menu and hope for the best. The food was some of the spiciest I’d ever eaten. My nose ran from the cold and the spice, and we shivered, exhausted.

Checking out a monastery in Darjeeling after a lovely 3am wakeup call to head up to Tiger Hill and see Kachenchunga

I had interviewed for a job in London in September, just after we returned from Morocco and the recruiter (in, as it would turn out, her infinite wisdom) had chosen this particular night to speak with me. After our earlier flight to Bagdogra, our harrowing white-knuckled ride up into the mountains in a freezing truck, and our traumatic welcome into Darjeeling (which included almost being hit by the Darjeeling Express), Mildred (her name has been changed) decided this was the night for a conversation about renumeration.

“Hi Brian, how are you?” She asked.

“Fine… My teeth aren’t chattering…” I said, delirious with fatigue. “And you?”

“Oh well, I’m well…Where are you in your travels now?”

“The Himalayas.”

“Lovely.”

“Y-y-eah…” I said shivering.

At this point I would have settled on a warm cup of coffee for a salary (in fact, I did). That evening, we went to look for snacks before our dinner came, but we were only able to find piles of Nabisco type things: banana crispies and what-have-you.

Darjeeling is relatively small (for India) at around 130K souls

The next day we woke up at 3am to head to Tiger Hill to get catch a glimpse of the Kachenchunga peak at sunrise. This is a very touristy daily event, and hawkers ran back and forth selling hot chai from a thermos and weirdly shaped woolen caps (that looked like they had been made for house elves).

Was it worth it? Yes. After an hour of shivering and buying woolen caps, we finally mashed in with some people to catch a glimpse of the glorious Kachenchunga, a sacred mountain for the Lepcha people, and it should certainly be considered one for the rest of us too. It was awe-inspiring. But exhausting. And teeth-chatteringly cold. But ultimately totally not too touristy and worth the pain.

Mighty Kachenchunga just after dawn on Tiger Hill

Our driver then took us to a confusing stupa, but to be fair, I am confused by most stupas (being as unintentionally ethnocentric as the next Westerner). But they are still an interesting and eye-catching religious symbol.

Darjeeling is obviously famous for the eponymous tea that so famously grows on its steep slopes. The people that have picked it there for generations have come from different places — but many of them are well cared for by the family companies that have been running the slopes for many years. Of course, I believe this is mostly bullshit PR and that they probably live in difficult conditions — we attended the tea museum in Darjeeling that begged to differ, stating that the tea pickers are mostly women because they have ‘tiny, tiny hands’. The truth is, the workers are all women because they work harder picking tea while they chatter happily at one another (this is what another tea company man said). But they also have healthcare and childcare, relatively good benefits in India, I’d wager.

Happy Valley tea plantation — what a happy place. Fancy a spoonful of tea?

Hands down, the most incredible part about Darjeeling – besides the surrounding beauty, and interesting cultural traditions — you truly do have access to the most incredible tea. For those of us among the uninitiated, we didn’t know there were such things as first, second, and so forth flushes — types of tea strategically picked at different times to exhibit certain properties. For some of these teas, a cup can cost around $45… that’s one cup. The most expensive we sprung for was a $12 first blush black tea. It was easily the most interesting cup of tea I’ve ever had. Back in the city, every fifth store sells tea and conspicuous tea wholesalers are rummaging through piles of tea packages wafting and scrutinizing the leaves, rattling the little foil packages. It’s quite fun to explore the little shops get to inhale the different aromas.

Nowhere in the world will you have a chance to sample tea so fresh.  It really is the dream experience for a beverage lover, and it really gave me a new appreciation for tea (a beverage that has never been too fascinating to me).

Sikkim

Well, after a few days in Darjeeling, it was straight on to Gangtok in Sikkim. Zooming through the underbrush at the speed of sound, our next driver (in a long series of drivers) dangled off cliff after cliff, but interestingly enough, we were headed down to a lower elevation in Gangtok. After we passed the proper military checkpoint – which included paying a small visa processing fee and getting a pretty cool little stamp in our passport — we headed on.

Gangtok was fun to walk around — it had many alleyways that meandered up and down, this way and that — each one had snacks

The city itself wasn’t much to marvel at. Unlike Darjeeling, it sits at a lower elevation, so doesn’t quite cling to the mountains in the same way. While it’s buildings are mostly built-up concrete, there is a certain charm to its streets and it is possible to walk around, if nervously (as always in Indian traffic).

One of the more depressing, but interesting sites we visited was the Tibetan Refugee Center. For anyone that cares about the Tibetans and how they were robbed of their country, leader, heritage, relics, and livelihoods by the imperialist dogs — it is pretty riveting and may cause an intense emotional experience. For someone who really loves the beauty and mystery of Tibetan Buddhism, it will be an even more emotional experience. However, I must warn it’s not a light-hearted experience.

This is where a lot of Tibetan artifacts were brought after the Chinese murdered most of the Tibetans in actual Tibet and annexed their country and enslaved the inhabitants brutally

A monk smiles at a dog at Rumtek Monastery outside of Gangtok

Another incredible part of Tibetan culture certainly worth experiencing was the food. In Gangtok, we enjoyed an incredible Tibetan food experience. Up two flights of rickety stairs in the town’s high street, we found a little Tibetan cafe that smelled incredible. It was packed with people, and we got to share a table with a mother and her little son. Her three year old was eating food so spicy that it would have reduced most adults to full-on tantrum mode. Here we enjoyed momo dumplings and hot noodle soup.

Prayer flags waving in the wind at Rumtek Monastery

The people of Darjeeling, and Gangtok, were all very accommodating. All in all, two of the least touristy places I’ve ever been (although, as our driver in Gangtok pointed out, that’s changing rapidly). He was a friendly fellow, fluent in Bengali, Lepcha, Gorka, and pretty good in English too. After he drove us around for the day, he asked, “Can we stop for a chai?” We sat down for a few chais at a quaint little cafe, where the proprietor kept a vat of tea kettle simmering all day long. Our driver conversed with the owner a while, and we enjoyed the peaceful ambience of the mountain city.

It’s their land after all… but don’t tell Modi

As part of our quirky tour, we were repeatedly handed off from driver to driver, subcontracted out by our truly bizarre tour company. As we prepared to hop out of one truck to the other, I tried to hand our new friend a tip. He shook his head vehemently, “You’ve already paid.” He said, and sent us on our way.

Another time our driver dropped us off in a parking garage and drove away without telling us anything. We just stood there for an hour questioning all the decisions in life that brought us to that frightening vault full of rabid dogs and keyed up young men. But we survived.

In Gangtok, you have a chance to visit Rumtek Monastery, a heavily-guarded and functioning Buddhist monastery. After an incredibly uncomfortable, but worthwhile trip around the valley, we arrived at the monastery. The heavily armed guards seized our passports — which made us very nervous — and then we wandered around as the monks read their morning prayer. I think the prayer lasted close to an hour and was punctuated with frequent coughs and snorts. As this went on, we wandered around awkwardly, past the canteen where some monks were eating bowls of rice and candy bars…for breakfast. Then, we peeked into the shrine, where yet another armed guard (with an AK-47 under his arm) looked at us suspiciously as we made an offering of some unknown amount of rupees.

A shrine with a view

“Hmmm…” We said, unsure of what one ‘does’ at Rumtek. The only clearly marked sign was the men’s bathroom, and there were some stalls on the way up selling some trinkets. We were the only tourists that day, but it was clear there were normally more tourists. So we took a quick walk up the hill to where one could catch a glimpse of the shrine building itself and the beautiful many-colored and waving flags that adorn the monastery. It was really very lovely. It smelled like incense, as almost everywhere in Sikkim does, and we coughed a bit as we brushed through a cloud of it. Then, we dodged the monks’ underwear which were drying on a clothesline and headed back to the car for a bumpy, dusty ride back to Gangtok.

At the gate, we asked for our passports back. They looked puzzled, and for a moment we almost vomited out our hearts when they couldn’t find them. Then, the we saw a lightbulb form over the guard’s head and he pulled them out of his vest pocket, dusting them off and handing them back with a less menacing grimace which I think was meant to be an apology.

Rumtek is stunningly beautiful and colorful, the location is incredible — but there is nothing else there besides some banana crispies

For a Buddhist shrine, there sure were a lot of men with guns. That must be part of that new agey second-amendment-fold-path — No wait… that’s BOOMism, not Buddhism. I’m confused.

All aboard the Darjeeling Express… Just watch out that it doesn’t run you over

Sikkim is a magnificently beautiful part of India, despite really being its own country. It has lost its autonomy but still retains a distinct cultural feeling that separates it from the rest of the country. The Ghorkas as recently as we were there, were in a state of revolt to retain some of their autonomy from the strong administration of the Modi government, which controls much of the local government politics of a largely Buddhist region. Still, better that religious freedom prevails somewhat stifled, rather than being completely stamped out like the Tibetans who now live in exile in Sikkim if they weren’t already murdered.

On the charming streets of Gangtok in the evening

-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

Tips, Tricks & Tapas Tours: Travelling for Many Months with One Person – A Few Days in Seville

Now, almost five weeks into our travels, Brian and I have learned a thing or two about how to be good travel companions to each other. We are sharing one piece of proper luggage during this trip, so it’s been a continual lesson in sharing, consideration, and compromise. For example, if your partner dumps all of your clothes on the floor, it doesn’t mean your partner doesn’t care that you neatly packed your sundresses so they won’t wrinkle, it means your partner is hurrying to find his/her DuckTales shirt so he/she can be ready 20 minutes ago per your request. So really, it’s all for you.

When we were in Seville earlier in August, a few tricks to make this arrangement more sustainable emerged. While much of long term traveling together is a social balancing act, we’ve discovered some tools over the years of traveling together. Below is a list of items we had the foresight to pack this time around to aid in our travels and to keep us from squabbling over non-issues.

Six Things to Pack for Smooth Sailing:

1. Wipes

Baby wipes are the greatest thing to happen to my 20s. Having discovered their usefullness for removing face paint in college, I’ve taken to carrying a pack whenever I’m on the move. When travelling, they are great for refreshing so you don’t have a hissy fit about who gets the first shower when reaching your Airbnb. This was super important in Seville because it was well over 95 degrees Fahrenheit all day. We rented bikes, which was a great way to get around this tiny city quickly, but also meant we were constantly sweaty and in need of refreshing. This is the service we rented from.

Matador statue in Seville

2. Sleep Masks

We’ve both taken to carrying around eye shades during our travels. These are of course helpful when trying to adjust to timezones or if your partner wants to stay up later reading (or blogging). In Seville, the whole city seems to shut down around 2pm for siesta, so it’s helpful to have a blackout shade to adjust to this flow of activity. Anyways, it’s so hot in the middle of the day that you really have no choice but to find a shady corner to nap in. Tip: its really worth getting a slightly more expensive mask so its comfortable and it actually blocks out light. The cadillac of sleep masks — according to Brian anyways.

3. Packing Cubes

I have a set of packing cubes. Brian doesn’t. Therefore, what is in the cubes is mine (theoretically) and the negative space in the rest of the bag is his (theoretically). My former coworkers sent me on my way with this set of packing cubes which are great as there is a “clean” side and a “laundry” side. This makes for neat organization and quick costume changes when switching from morning bike ride adventure gear to an afternoon spent exploring the old town and crossing the river to hip Triana. Here are the kick ass packing cubes I’ve been using.

Exploring the gardens of Real Alcazar

4. (Spare) Plastic Bags & Ziplock Bags

Useful for everything from transporting leftover muesli between Airbnbs to isolating malodorous hiking shoes to sorting liquids for going through security. Useful for relationships too, so my deodorant doesn’t inhale man cologne smell and my clean clothes don’t smell like spilled olive juice from a Sevillian tapas bar. Also, many stores will charge extra for the global damage of plastic bags, so bring your own to seem like a green, European local.

5. Headphone Splitter

Brian is always anxious to get to the airport early and I’m a nervous flyer. Now that Netflix allows downloads (praise be!), we’ve taken to pacifying ourselves with TV and movies at the uncomfortable points of travel. With a headphone splitter, we can watch House of Cards together so that we can make dramatic/outraged/shocked faces at each other along the way. It helps us to be able to share something, rather than retreating into our own backlogs of podcasts. Not to mention, this device is tiny and is easily packed anywhere.

6. Pen

Despite the digital age, in which all of our travel documents are electronic, I’ve needed a pen at least three times a day. We’ve taken to writing down our tapas schemes on napkins before finalizing our order and for writing good ol’ fashion postcards. Brian found some inspiring articles (especially this one) about where to get tapas in Seville, so we had to heavily annotate our map to figure out our route. More on our tapas tour below! What’s more is it’s always useful to have one on a plane so you can start filling out customs forms ahead of getting in line (don’t be that guy with the greasy fingers asking to borrow a pen).

Striking tower of Real Alcazar amid the native foliage

DIY Tapas Tour in Seville

Brian did a great job researching the most interesting, traditional, and popular tapas bars in this Andalucian city. Unfortunately, we learned through the course of activities that many shops and restaurants are closed for a week or longer in the August. This resulted in quite a few disappointments as we attempted to navigate the medieval streets in pursuit of fine bites, but we were able find a handful that were open and worth eating at, as well as discover unknown spots. These three were our favorites:

El Rinconcillo

Antique bar tucked deep within the maze that is the oldest part of the city. This bar is known for the antiquated decor, poker-faced waitstaff, and the quaint tallying of the bill with chalk on the bar. Here, we enjoyed tinto de verano (basically a red wine spritzer), ham croquettes, sheep’s milk cheese, and slices of local cured meat.The price was right: two drinks and four tapas came to about 12 euros.

Having our bill tallied up ON the bar

Bodega Dos de Mayo

In contrast to the previous bar, the waitstaff here are notoriously friendly, offering sincere greetings just as the doors open at 8pm. We sat out in the plaza while sipping sangria and trying various tapas dishes such as fresh seafood salad, more croquettes – prawn this time, and hake cooked with fruits of the sea and garlic. The six or so tapas plates and a pitcher of sangria cost us about 28 euros.

A plate of coveted Iberian ham (jamón)

Bar Pelayo

Set down a side street near the Real Alcazar palace, Bar Pelayo made for a good tapas lunch full of classics and our waitress’ locally recommended specialities. Although I wasn’t wild about the bull head decor, the place was spacious and comfortable. We had olives, goats cheese, avocado anchovy toast, zucchini-wrapped shrimp, and duck breast, amongst other dishes. A pitcher of sangria and eight or nine tapas dishes will set you back about about 35 euros.

To DIY your own tapas tour, seek out recommendations, but also keep your eyes peeled for places set away from the main tourist drags. I’ve noticed that, frequently, the most local-seeming bars are clustered near one another and are easily identifiable by the hordes of smoking Spanish speakers holding glasses of wine out front. These places will most definitely not have pictures in laminated menus, if they even have menus at all.

Of course, Seville is much more than heavy summer heat and cool evening bites. The ornate architecture is stunning and the people laidback. I was surprised by how quiet the city was, but I would happily return, especially to use as a homebase for exploring the surrounding countryside or for day trips to Cadiz or Cordoba. Perhaps that should be our next adventure!

-Sophie