All posts by cl@rks

Asia, Hong Kong, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 4: Hong Kong Island & Kowloon

HONG KONG ISLAND & KOWLOON

27-31 March 2014

Having pre-booked our ferry transfer to Hong Kong – for a very civilised 10h30 – our evac from Macau was quick and painless.

The breakfast buffet was quite different to the previous day, sadly missing the things we favoured (quiche, aloo curry, baked beans with sausage medallions) but still with enough basics (bacon, chicken sausage, eggs etc) and some new additions (French toast) to sate.

Fascinating to watch the bizarre combo of things such a diverse cross-section of people choose at these buffets. Not at all uncommon to see a single plate with a small portions of scrambled eggs, bacon, noodles, cooked veg, dimsum and fresh fruit… all eaten with chopsticks! Toast doesn’t seem to feature – likely because it can’t serve as the delivery vehicle it does when you’re using a knife and fork.

Chopsticks must be a nurture art of practice, as we discovered when the little Chinese boy (no more than 4 or 5) alone at the table next to us dropped something through his chopsticks onto his plate, setting off a domino effect that resulted in his glass of milk landing on his chair next to him and rolling onto the floor. He froze and his eyes went so big they were almost round! He was on the edge of tears. We quickly rounded up all the serviettes on our table and helped him dab most of it up, so by the time his mom got back from the buffet a minute later, there was little evidence of the carnage from the recent milk tsunami. Obviously the little chap wasn’t one to keep secrets though and soon mom was smiling, head-bowing and rapid-fire Chinesing obvious gratitude to us.

The ferry ride was quick and comfortable – and again, completely full – and an hour later we were deposited at the Hong Kong Island Central Pier.

First order of business was to collect our apartment key from our host’s tea shop, which a Google Maps search had indicated was two rights and a left from the station. Sounded easy enough… until we realised, as we had in Taipei, the station has several exits in different directions and starting the instructions with “head East” wasn’t largely helpful when your luggage is all shoes and no compass! So we jumped in a taxi, which took us exactly 1 block parallel to the station, but was worth the R45 to save the anguish of wandering aimlessly on the busy streets with our considerable luggage in tow.

The girls in the teashop revealed that our host was currently travelling in Shanghai, but were able to give us the apartment key, directions and instructions to leave the keys with the 24 hour doorman when we were due to leave on Monday morning (a relief to not have an extra chore to drop off keys as we were headed to the airport at 5am).

The directions were easy enough and we were soon at our apartment in Hollywood Street (famed for antiques shop and opposite the famous Man Mo Temple), with the only challenge being the 120 or so steep steps up Ladder Street to get there. Although it could’ve been way worse, seeing as Ladder Street continued to ascended as far as the eye could see!

Our apartment was tiny – no bigger than my bedroom at home – but well apportioned. Newly renovated and with TWO balconies (a long one running the length of the flat overlooking the street and a smaller square one running the width of the flat, off the side nestled into the building above the entrance hall), which has to be a coup in Hong Kong.

The bedroom was no more than an alcove built around the double bed; the bathroom a glass sliding door off the entrance passage with a shower, loo and basin. The kitchen area was a double cupboard with under-counter fridge, 2 plate stove on one side and small sink on the other. A convection oven the size of a small microwave sat on a rolling trolley island. Just enough to be able to do anything you need to do, not enough to really want to do anything. Presumably the locals have as big an eating out culture as the Taiwanese.

We put our bags down and hit the town, first port of call being to find the Gieves & Hawkes store in the International Finance Centre (commonly known as IFC) mall to collect Christian’s suits. Luck was on our side and our rough plan to head towards the water and take it from there serendipitously led us directly to the mall, and the store was at the top of the first escalator as we entered. More fortunately, the suits were perfect and looked great on! We asked the attendant to hang onto them so we could do a bit of sightseeing unencumbered and pick them up en route home.

We were in no particular hurry so, since we found ourselves at the central terminus, decided to take a bus up to The Peak, a shopping mall with viewing deck. As the bus wound up the mountain, the cars got flashier and the entrances more impressive. Clearly, the better the view, the higher the price tag!

The Peak Mall was nothing special in itself – perfectly lovely, with lots of restaurants and high-end shops – but boasted a rooftop terrace with gorgeous views of the far side of the island, as well as Lamma Island and Lantau (where we started our trip).

At the base of the mall was a viewing deck for the Victoria Bay side of the Island, with a winding walking path to get varied vantage points. Great spots to take pics (and selfies of course).

The Peak Tram runs from top of the walking path and had been recommended to us to try. We thought it would be a tourist activity but, based on the bussle and jostling, it appears to be a popular public transport alternative. It’s HK$28 for the tram as compared with the bus at HK$9.50, but only takes a couple of minutes – belting near vertically down the mountainside – versus the bus winding slowly and gently upward for 45 minutes.

Alighting at the end of the line, we consulted the map to see that we were at the end of the Causeway, which meant we had to walk the length of the pier to get back to IFC.

Hong Kong Island is easy to move around using a set of wide pedestrian skywalks that interlace all the malls and buildings, so you don’t need to contend with the shops and cars while getting from place to place. Since everyone seems to be in a hurry to get somewhere, this must be a godsend!

We navigated through the skywalks and back to IFC. We stopped en route to the suit shop to grab a sundowner at Liberty Exchange, a swank bar full of banker and stock broker types (and not an Oriental face in sight). The chap next to us at the bar spotted us to be tourists immediately and introduced himself. Of course, he turned out to be a Saffa – a chef who has been on HKI for 10 years and is now, funny enough, looking to move to Taipei. He’d never been there and we’d never been here, so we shared insights on where to go and what to see.

Suits in hand, we manoeuvered back to the apartment to drop them off and head out for the evening, to check out Wan Chai, which is infamous as the playground of the Sevens since it’s so close to the stadium.

The MTR metro system was particularly simple to master since it’s a single straight line that runs the length of the bay, so we were soon at our destination and being swept up in the throng.

The road is a mess of bars and clubs spilling onto the streets with touts and hostesses willing people in as they attempt to pass by. Lots of neon signage with flashing icons and logos fighting for visual attention. And lots and lots of lager louts soaking it all in and allowing themselves to be lured along a bar hop. Not surprisingly, most of the clientele was English, Irish, Aussie and Kiwi with the odd Saffa group.

We did a tour of the road – careful to avoid the notorious girlie bars with their curtained entrances (and unscrupulous billing tactics!) – concluding with dinner at the curry den at the top of the street.

FRIDAY

Friday had been allocated to Kowloon exploring, with no rush to head out since our Saffa friend had warned that HK is a city that starts late (11ish) but ends same. It was a simple journey since it’s only a few MTR stops from Central Station on Hong Kong Island to Mong Kok on Kowloon and we were deposited right at the entrance to the Ladies Market, which seemed as good a place as any for our sightseeing to begin.

Kowloon is grimy and cluttered. Not dirty exactly – obsessively swept so there’s no litter or garbage – but just a general grey and dingy feel. The buildings are completely unmaintained , which probably adds to the overall impression, along with the general clutter that comes along with so many people in such a confined space (to the point that someone told us that, should a fire break out in Kowloon, there wouldn’t be enough space in the streets for everyone to evacuate). Despite the impression our shopping bags might present, we were underwhelmed by Kowloon and keen to get back to the Island.

By stark contrast to Kowloon, we spent the evening in SoHo, which was made infinitely easier by our Saffa friend’s revelation of the world’s longest operational escalator, which runs up the hill through SoHo (or our adventures might’ve been severely hampered if relying on us ascending the steep – and seemingly endless – stairs on Ladder Street in foot!)

SoHo was teeming with people. Every establishment had loads of patrons – all Westerners – and there were restaurants themed to every nation and menu imaginable. Bars overflowed onto the central walkway and restaurants occupied every square inch of the little terraces carved out on the side streets. Very upmarket, with most dressed to the nines; proper inner city cosmopolitan with people clearly only arriving as we were finishing up for the night.

Our weekend itinerary had been dedicated to the Hong Kong Sevens Rugby tournament, so we were bleak to wake up to dark skies and rain on Saturday morning. We hadn’t yet managed to secure tickets – but were confident, based on popular opinion, that we’d get from touts around the stadium – so reconciled ourselves to the possibility of watching Saturday’s games in a pub and going to the stadium on Sunday rather. With new optimism for our win/win plan, we headed to our local, The Cottage Gastropub, for a breakfast pizza. What a great idea putting sausage, bacon, mushrooms etc on a pizza and topping it with fried eggs!

The combination of pizza and the spirit in the bar (which was of course showing the Rugby) we used a gap in the rain to dash out and head in the direction of the Hong Kong Stadium.

As soon as we surfaced from the subway station, we were approached with tickets for sale. Not wanting to be duped into fakes, we decided we’d only consider buying tickets right outside the stadium, where their validity could be verified at the gates. And there was no shortage of opportunity – lots of scalpers… and, weirdly, a good few people with “tickets wanted” signs. Why didn’t the people looking to buy, just buy from the hordes of people trying to sell to us? Justified our paranoia!

It was really easy to find the stadium: just follow the crowds and the loud cheering. Apparently, the weather hadn’t deterred the fans nor dampened the spirits!

On arriving at the stadium we saw the fanpark across the road and decided to give that a gander before committing to tickets (by now it was about 1pm, so we’d missed the first half of the day’s play thanks to the rain). The fanpark was brilliant! We managed to get ourselves a pair of pints and a prime-sited cocktail table – under a big umbrella – right alongside the main big screen, probably because we’d arrived during the break in play for lunch.

By the time play resumed, so had the rain and we were thanking our lucky stars for the umbrella, crushed in alongside our new friends (2 Englishmen based in Hong Kong and 3 Irishmen dressed in matching tutus and candy-coloured wigs). True to form on what we’d heard about the Sevens, it was lots of beer and laughs loosely set to the sporting backdrop. Spirits were high all round and the dress-up makes for superlative people-watching. What a fun way to spend an afternoon!

SUNDAY

Sunday morning was rainy, so we hibernated with our leftover Pizza Hut duo (we’d secured en route home the night before) and TV. Really good to get in some downtime on the last morning of what had turned out to be a hectic holiday!

At noonish we up and outed to the Sevens Fanpark at Central Pier. It was quite different to the one we’d been at on Saturday, with a funfair set-up as well as the big screen and food/drink stalls. Speaking the testament of the game stalls, there were lots of stuffed animals interspersed in the crowds and regular intermittent whoops of completely non rugby-related delight. A completely different vibe to the day before, but equally fun.

We rounded off the outing with a late lunch at SuperSuper – a fitting conclusion since it’s the same chain we’d had our first local meal at in Discovery Bay.

Then it was home to pack, which was easier than it could have been since Christian had bought a new suitcase (as well as the suits, our shoes and a bunch of other things). The bright side about our postage stamp apartment is that it was easy to pack up since nothing was more than a generous arm’s reach away!

We had been very lucky all afternoon since it had been quite clear of rain, then poured down while we were packing and, since it had stopped again, we thought we’d take advantage of the good fortune and take a walk up to SoHo for a farewell bite. With nothing even vaguely traditional tugging at our conscience, we threw caution to the wind and chose a cosy little Mexican restaurant, positioning ourselves at a corner counter window seat so we could watch people (helter-skelter, as it was raining again) on the main passageway as we ate our burritos, tacos and nachos.

An eye of the storm gave us enough opportunity to get home, via 7Eleven to grab chocolate milk and TimTams, the holiday snacks of choice – and the wisest nightcap option with our super-early start for the morning.

After a restless night, worried about sleeping through the alarm, we were up at 4.45. We were also worried about not finding a cab so early so had built in a bit of fat in case we might have to walk to the station (which we’d timed to be 8 minutes sans luggage). Turned out to be unnecessary and after a 2 minute wait, we were able to flag down the first cab to pass, right outside our apartment block.

Central Station is brilliant – the ticket office opens at 05h30 with the first Airport Express train at 05h50. The cherry on the top is the bank of airline desks where you can check-in and book through luggage. Genius! Except Emirates only opens at 7, which would have been too long a wait for checking into our 08h25 flight… and a good thing we hadn’t planned on doing that since our flight had at some point, unbeknownst to us, moved forward an hour to 07h25. We were very tight for time and in the sticky situation where any possible Plan B would take longer than the Express train!

Amazing how slowly time moves when it’s 05h35 and you realise you’re short an hour. And you’re waiting for the 05h50 train.

Amazing how quickly the minutes fly by when you’re on the train and the 06h25 check-in time is approaching.

We were very fortunate that the train deposited us right at the entrance to Terminal 1, and right outside Row G, as required. After a mad dash, 3 suitcases wheeling madly, we got to a blessedly non-existent queue and were checked in with no more than a minute to spare.

A happy ending (were it not for sacrificing breakfast at the airport in the time-crunching process) indeed.

Asia, China, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 3: Macau

MACAU

25-27 March 2014

It was a very early start for us to get to the airport in Taipei for our 07h55 flight. Fortunately, our timing meant that the roads were pretty empty (but we still had no trouble flagging down a taxi on Xinyi Street even at our 05h15 departure from Honey’s flat.

When we got to the check-in desk, the attendant told us the flight was full. I readied for a fight as we’d even pre-booked specific seats online… I was surprised and delighted when it was revealed that the implication of the overbooked flight was an upgrade for us to Business Class. Winner!

It was such a blessing as we were bushed from our jam-packed  weekend and early start, so being able to make the seats into an almost horizontal bed – and being given a real pillow and duvet – made for a very comfortable snooze on our flight back to Hong Kong.

On arrival, we had to catch a bus from the airport into Hong Kong to get the ferry to Macau at 12.15. The ferry ride is an hour and every boat while we were there seemed to book to full, with boats every 15 minutes around the clock. That’s a lot of traffic!

Arriving in Macau, it was the old routine: draw local currency from an ATM, find the tourist desk, get a map, call a taxi. Easily done and soon we were off to our hotel, the Regency. We’d chosen this hotel specifically for its location, on the coastline at the Taipa end of the bridge that connects the island to mainland Macau. This would provide us a central location with easy access to Macau to our north, Taipa around the hotel and Coloane to the south.

Taipa and Coloane were previously 2 separate islands, which have now been connected with an expanse of reclaimed land that has been named Cotai. Not only does this provide more land and the convenience of being able to move between the previously separated islands, but they’ve also added the Lotus bridge to Zhuhai Shi city in China for easy access to and from there as well. With the inevitable dependence of islands on mainland for supplies this no doubt is a big win for the Macanese.

Also, 94% of the population is Chinese – although you’d never say such a small percentage are foreigners  since all signage is in Chinese and Portuguese as standard (and often in English and French as well on advertising messaging). After checking into our hotel and getting settled, it was already 3pm, so we decided the flight path to be a taxi to drop us at the very southern tip of Coloane, where we’d have a bite and then wind our way back up, catching a bus or taxi whenever made sense.

The drive showed us a lot of 2 things: construction and casinos! It looks like there are lots of massive developments on the go, with enormous  hording and flocks of cranes. The casinos were plentiful, stupendous and garish with outsized statues, fountains, columns etc and the promise of enough neon to make nighttime as bright as day. It was like being a Lilliputian in a very kitsch Gulliver Land. Very easy to see why Macau is often called the ‘Las Vegas of Asia’.

The taxi dropped us at Cheoc Van Bay, where we expected to see a row of beachfront shops and restaurants. There was nothing of the sort. A pleasant stretch of beachfront, a public pool, a tea house and (fortunately) a terrace café overlooking the sea, where we had a great bacon and pepperoni pizza (not very traditional, but very necessary).

With a new lease on life, we took a walk around the western peninsula and into Coloane Village, which is little more than a few houses, a small town square, some stilt houses… and Lord Crow’s Bakery, where we indulged in locally-famed Pasteis de Nata (Portuguese egg tart).

Catching the bus was easy as it was right outside the bakery and almost all routes went past our hotel. It was only 4 Patacas (about R6) each for the journey, a bargain at the price as it slowly wound around the side of the island we’d not yet seen, so doubled as a tour (including great views of China across the channel). The taxis aren’t expensive either, costing us less than R50 to get from the pier to the hotel and less that R40 to get from our hotel across the full length of Taipa and Coloane. The currency is completely interchangeable at 1:1 with Hong Kong Dollars (you can pay in HK$, but will only ever get change back in Patacas) and everything is marked with the $ sign, even though they mean Patacas.

We got off the bus earlier than planned, jumping off at Sam Po Temple for a sunset walk around Taipa Village, and to scope out prospects for dinner. We’d set sights on Rua de Cunha, which the tourist brochures had all earmarked as the foodie street, but it was all bright neon, too many people and a bizarre number of the same bakery chain stores a few doors apart from each other (like 7Eleven does), all selling the same things. Having decided against eating there and noticing pubs conspicuous in their complete absence, we meandered back toward the hotel.

We found a brilliant Korean restaurant at which to have dinner and tucked into a feast of roasted pork belly, smoked and glazed duck and a deliciously rich tomato and onion beef stew. We had ordered everything together, but it was served as courses, which worked out rather well!

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday was dedicated to exploring Macau. The historic centre includes the oldest western architectural heritage on Chinese soil today, interspersed among Macau’s traditional Chinese architecture and traditions. Historically, Macau has been an important gateway through which western civilisation entered China over 500 years ago, when Portuguese navigators in the mid 16th Century and developed it into an international trading port. For almost 3 centuries, until Hong Kong was colonised in 1842, Macau’s strategic location at the mouth of the Pearl River offered unique position to the South China Sea, serving as the hub of maritime trade – and bringing people of all sorts of nationalities, which have left their marks in and around the old city.

The tourist maps made the plan quite simple, with 25 “must see” points of interest winding their way on a manageable course from the south (at the other end of the bridge that run from in front of our hotel) up as far as the middle of the island then cut across to Guia Hill, which was conveniently adjacent to the ferry port so we could book our tickets back to Hong Kong and then conclude with sundowners on the Fisherman’s Wharf.

We set out at 11am and spent 3 hours exploring the 12 churches / temples / cemeteries, 4 fortresses / old city walls, 3 squares, 3 buildings of interest, a library, a theatre and a garden. While some points of interest are more points than interests, it’s a manageable walk following a logical route, so worthwhile seeing the lot. We did finally get in a gondola ride (after 2 false starts with both the Lantau and the Taipei ones closed for maintenance) – and a bargain at the price of 3 Patacas (R5) each for a return ticket. We ended up ditching the return as the walk down from the lighthouse at the top spat us out neatly at the Pier, as we’d planned.

We were able to pre-book our ferry to Hong Kong for the next day (for the princely sum of 159 Pataca (R230) each, so the wheels were in motion to move on the next day at 10.

Our traipsing had worked up quite an appetite so we headed over to the Fisherman’s Wharf, having decided that a Portuguese seafood meal would make the most sense in context (and provide a break from the fare of late). Easier said than done. We were shopping between conventional mealtimes and all the kitchens were closed! We found a Thai restaurant open though and had a lovely red curry duck and pork with morning glory and rice sticks (noodles), run on the water’s edge overlooking the wharf, bay and bridge.

We decided to see what all the fuss was about, so caught a taxi to Cotai to the Venetian, which had been recommended to us by the Aussie on Elephant Mountain in Taipei. Everything he had said paled when we experienced the real thing. New words have to be created to describe the enormousness, the stupendity, the opulescence of the casinos!  They are each and all buildings grandiose beyond belief, clustered with ridiculously mammoth adornments and goliath features. A complete sensory overload. Like Vegas + Times Square + Dubai. In one place. At one times.

Then you go inside.

And everything’s multiple volumes.

With marble floors and chandeliers.

It’s like Liberace has been reincarnated into a suburb!

And it is a suburb because all of the casinos interlink with passages and walkways, seamlessly taking your journey from game floor through food courts, through world label shops (lots and lots of watches and diamonds, must be the impulse purchase if choice for gamblers) and fancy restaurants and hotels and, um, gondola rides. Back at the Venetian. Time to go home. Not getting tangled in this web.

Dinner was a far more modest affair. We found a diner called Brilliant Gourmet close to our hotel and had a Seafood Baked Rice (al forno cheesy seafood number with rice instead of pasta) and Christian a super-legit beef curry. No ambience whatsoever in the restaurant – no music, bright lights, laminated menus and enlarged food pics on the walls – but an amazing meal, with Tsingtao to wash it down.

Macau? Glad to have seen and done it.

Asia, Taiwan, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 2: Taipei

TAIPEI

21-23 March 2014

It may seem extravagant to wedge a holiday within a holiday, but when you figure how far we are from home and the comparatively small hop it is from Hong Kong to Taiwan, it seemed foolish not to! Especially not when I’ve been promising my friend, Honey, for 8 years that I’ll come and see her!

We could not have asked for a better start to the day. Having intentionally slept with the curtains open, we awoke to the gorgeous mountain view from our 8th floor room (glass windows from floor to ceiling and wall to wall) at the Auberge in Discovery Bay on Lantau Island. The weather had held nicely – although gotten a bit chilly – so we could see for miles and miles; the bay directly in front of us and to the left, the community encircling it and the mountains as a back drop.

Breakfast was another lavish affair, with variants of the same formula as the previous day. We ate our fill to fuel up for the journey ahead, which began with an easy connection bus from the hotel’s entrance (using our Octopus card, still on the same R100 we’d loaded at the beginning of the day before!). Hong Kong International Airport is easy to navigate, but huge, so it was good to arrive well in time so we could amble through the process of checking in and getting to our gate in time for our midday flight.

An hour and 40 later, we were landing in Taipei. Being well past lunchtime and with plenty of time to get to our 5pm meet-up with Honey, first order of business was the food court.

I’d been operating on the assumption that we’d immerse in local culture (which really only means food) as we normally do… but it’s quite hard. Everything is so foreign! That might sound obvious, but the addition of the so-unfamiliar Chinese writing leaves you unable to even sound things out, let alone attempting to translate or speak back.

We buckled and got McD’s. With a little more time and less pressure, the restaurant option mysteries started to clear. No regrets on the burgers, but I’d quite like to have tried the Japanese cheese curry (not paneer, a curry with a cheesy sauce). Still not traditional in the “when in Rome” sense, but intriguing nonetheless.

We decided to get a taxi into town since it was the NTS (Taiwan currency, we believe stands for New Taiwan Dollar) equivalent of R350 and the combination of public transport it’d have taken to get to City Centre would’ve been damn close to that for the two of us.

We thought we were quite shrewd, avoiding potential language issues with the driver by getting a tourist map and circling our destination to point at… but were concerned when we were deposited at stipulated destination and there was no “big Starbucks directly opposite” as per our arrangement with Honey! Turns out we’d erroneously circled Daan Park instead of Daan and were a block off.

We of course, didn’t figure this out immediately and there was some mild panic of us being completely lost with no idea of where we were going and our only means of contact with Honey being Facebook but we had no wifi access! And even though all the signs are bilingual, the Chinese symbols are so foreign that it’s completely visually cacophonous and you have as little idea of  where you are as you have of where you are supposed to be!

It was a joyous reunion when Honey did find us (as it always is with old friends… and especially when you’ve been lost in the prequel!) and a delight to find that her apartment was literally across the road from our meeting point. A great apartment too! A little free-standing cottage plonked on top of an apartment block, too cool! We got the tour, which was less of the studio and more of clambering over the pipes and stuff on the roof to see the spectacular views in all directions – including the famous Taipei 101 building at the end of our road, off to right and even clearer than the Sagrada Familia had been from our apartment in Barcelona!

Honey was kind enough to plan to vacate her studio for our exclusive use, necessitating some minor housekeeping for our handover.  Starting with instructions on where to find the key (in the drawer at the entrance way), with the option to just leave it in the door if easier (on the outside! even if we’re out! Taipei is *that* safe) rather than running the risk of locking it in accidentally with the slamlock door. We were also advised that no toilet paper gets flushed – ever! – which would take some getting used to. And, on the fun side, tutored on how to operate the mozzie-fritzer electrocuting tennis racquet.

We then accompanied her on the trip to the laundromat (to tumbledry the bed linen) and got in some beers at the local 7Eleven, joking that we’d have to do a 7Eleven pub crawl like in Khaosan Road in Bangkok! Inner city living with so many people has its conveniences –  amenities are close and service quick – and we were done and heading out for the evening within the hour.

Honey had arranged with some friends to meet at Hooters and we were soon enjoying a hearty welcome with pitchers of beer and deepfried delights. A really nice bunch of people, warm and welcoming, with plenty of questions about how we came to be in Taipei and lots of advice on what to see and do while here. We had a fab time, with lots of laughs over the hulahooping competitions being held periodically over the course of the evening.

The decision was then made to move on to a bar called On Tap, where we stayed for the rest of the night socialising, enjoying the 80s music, playing the (very PG) cardgame Uno, glugging (the very unimaginatively named) Taiwan Beer and knocking back Christmas In Your Mouth (a shooter creation with cinnamon, hence the name) and vodka jellybabies. A great (and long) night had by all! … and, as we were told it would be, easy as pie to hail a yellow cab – any time day or night anywhere in the city. Fortunately this fella wasn’t watching a DVD while he drove, as was the chap who’d brought us to On Tap!

SATURDAY

Saturday morning began – after a long lie-in and a big bottle of water – in the afternoon. Happy to have slept the morning away and feeling human again, we hit Subway for breakfast (at now lunchtime) and walked the length of Xinyi Road Section 3 to have a close up look at the Taipei 101. Surprisingly, lots of the shops weren’t open and, fortunately, there wasn’t the mad crush of people we’d anticipated would come along with a Saturday morning in town.  It was still a decent walk though, being a lot further away than it looked. I guess 101 stories of building can create that kind of optical illusion!

The Taipei 101 broke records in 2004, with tallest structure height of 508m, tallest roof at 448m and tallest occupied floor at 438m. It also had the fastest elevator (1010m per minute) – it takes only 37 seconds to get to the viewing deck on the 89th floor – and the coil from it is now mastered into a sort of balled artpiece at the entrance. Honey shared with us the cheat to bypass entrance fees by faking a visit to the Starbucks right near the top, but we passed and opted to just stamp our passports with the commemorative stamps in the lobby.

Back at the apartment, Honey called to update us with the day’s plans, which began with us catching the MRT from the Daan station to meet her and Shawn at Dongmen Station. Complacent now that we felt we knew the lay of the land, we had no trouble getting to Dongmen, but soon realised with horror that there are 8 exits from the station and we hadn’t made a plan in which one was the meeting point! Honey and Shawn had had the same realisation – probably at around the time we had – and luckily our “staying put” plan worked perfectly with their “split up and spread out” plan and we were soon happily reunited and jumping in a yellow cab and off to our next adventure.

… which was the perfect calm to ease us into Day 2 – Honey’s friend’s baby’s 1 year birthday party, in the southern suburbs so we got to see the other side of town (where Honey works). We were by now – thanks to our longer-than-planned walk and the Dongmen shenanigans – 2 hours late for the party, which turned out to be a good thing as we got quality time with the hosts and selected guests of choice.

We went straight from there to the Tong Hua Street nightmarket to grab some grub. Too awesome! Lots of fun, exciting and often indeterminable nibblybits! Highlights were the sausage on a stick butterflied and stuffed with spring onion, the deepfried battered prawns and pineapple, 2 types of deepfried mushrooms (neither look like ours at home) and squid balls… and the orderly 1-way pedestrian system that made moving through the bustling market easy and pleasant. Pineapple chunks (sweeter than home, tasting almost like undiluted cordial) and toffee strawberries (like toffee apple, but strawberries) for puds. All deeelish!

Honey had done a spectacular job of social butterflying for us, so it was soon time to scuttle off in the direction of her friend’s Greek restaurant, Yiamas, for a comedy evening with more of her friends. Lots of fun and laughs… especially when the (pseudo) magician duo were using props from random items on patrons’ tables for their skit and they happened across Shawn’s gun – a very convincing looking plastic number he’d won in the carnival at the market.

Then the coup de gras for the evening – around the corner to a gem of a place called Bob Wun Daye to watch a Taiwanese ska band. They were really truly excellent! And the venue was perfect – long, narrow, cosy, busy enough to be vibey, empty enough to easily get a drink… and a cocktail table right at the front for the best vantage point for us, Mary Bites Kerry‘s newest fans!

Sadly, we had missed the start of the band’s set so all too soon they were done. But that didn’t mean the entertainment was over – people from the audience kept coming up, picking up an instrument and jamming with whoever was doing same and for however long they were feeling it.

Members of MBK came back and joined in at times, but the most consistent gueststar was a brilliant bass-playing chap in skintight red trousers, with thick waistlength hair died platinum blonde and tied in a high ponytail, whom (for obvious reasons) we nicknamed Barbie… and took great delight dragging into a photo with us. He seemed quite flattered, in an aloof rockstar way. Christian had a pic with the lead singer from MBK, who seemed genuinely surprised (and very pleased) we were interested – and broke the bad news to us that they’d yet to release a CD, so there were none to buy.

We were supposed to meet up from there at (yet another) bar, called Deviate, but our taxi driver misunderstood our direction and erroneously dropped us off so coincidentally close to home (and nowhere near the other place) that it seemed like a good reason to call it a night. At 3am, probably a good idea.

SUNDAY

The next morning, once again, started in the afternoon. The moderate weather was a blessing to allow a good sleep and generous lie-in, and our faith in the accessibility of everything and the economy of the public transport left us quite confident that an afternoon was all we needed to fill in the gaps of the essential sight-seeing.

Honey came to us and we three headed out around 13h30 to catch the MRT to the Chiang Kai-Shek Memorial complex. It’s a big and beautiful area with the Opera House, the National Theatre and the Memorial building flanking a central quad.

We were very fortunate to be visiting on the weekend of the WWF Pandas World Tour, so there were 1600 model pandas in various outfits and poses displayed in the centre of the quad, with countless 6ft+ plastic pandas dotted about the place, each with a queue of people lined up to take a picture with it. A prime display of how the Taiwanese are as panda-mad as they are orderly and obedient. Or maybe it’s just madness in general seeing as they dress their kids as animals (in panda hoodies, lion onesies etc) and their animals as kids (full regalia including jeans, tops and socks – and we’ve seen a few in nappies!) and they’ll line up quietly to see the opening of an envelope!

In their defence, it’s a lot easier to bow deference in a nation where there are light panels outside (pristine and abundant) public toilets so that you can see on approaching which stalls are occupied and vacant. And where the little man under the pedestrian go/stop light quickens pace as you’re running out of time – even though there’s a perfectly clear digital countdown timer alongside him.

Back on the MRT, in search of lunch, we alighted at Taipei Nangong Exhibition Centre stop to eat at one of Honey’s favourite restaurants, a Thai spot in Red Square at Ximen shopping district. We soon saw why she likes it so much – quaint and friendly, completely run by one woman (literally: taking orders, cooking, serving, billing and cleaning) and the most amazing food. This kind of set-up could only ever work with people as pathologically honest as the Taiwanese – the temptations of abusing the honour system of helping yourself to drinks and volunteering what you’ve had when billtime comes would far outweight any concerns about “saving face”.

Our people are more of the “stuffing face” variety… as we displayed when we narrowed down the menu to just order the things we absolutely couldn’t live without – spring rolls and shrimp pancake to start followed by chicken green curry, beef masaman curry, breaded chicken in lemon and sesame, spicy pork mince and morning glory. A lot of food for 3 people (although we rationalised that onlookers might’ve been fooled that we’d ordered for 6 seeing as we had 3 of Honey’s friends join us by this time).

In desperate need of movement after our enormous meal, we had a wander around the market and shopping district, thoroughly enjoying people-watching the hordes of chavs with big hair and crazy outfits.

We made our way across to Honey’s favourite temple, LungShan, which has a magnificent “dragon water” waterfall at the entrance, where people cleanse in preparation for worshipping Buddha. The temple was founded in 1738, so has all the ornate detail and decorative intricacies of a bygone era on the walls, arches, cornices and elaborate roof murals. It is apparently dedicated to the Goddess of Mercy and is brightly decorated with all the snacks and flower offerings that guests leave for the gods (but that we surmise end up on the monks’ tables).

Spiritually fulfilled we ambled around the Snake Alley market, careful to avoid all the snake activities, really not wanting to see snakes slit end-to-end while still alive to be drained of its believed-to-be elixir blood. Vile concept and – while not a fan of snakes by any means – unconscionably cruel.

Our sightseeing left just enough time for a flit past home before meeting up with Shawn (who’d been working) and (more) friends for dinner at a modest local diner, as authentic in its clientele as in its food. Low tables and simple milking stools, the 100 offered hundreds of dishes, mostly at 100NTs a plate – the intention being for the table to order a generous selection and share. Same with the beers that were served in quarts with each person having a small breakfast glass to pour into. Rounds and rounds of yummy food were delivered to the table, our favourites being the sizzling beef (in a thick oniony and peppery gravy) and the mackerel (light, flaky and buttery).

Starting to get the hang of the city, we opted to walk back to the apartment – chaperoned for the first bit by 2 of Honey’s friends, who fortuitously happened to be going in the same direction as us and committed to ensuring we took the only turn required on our route.

MONDAY

Monday morning, following Sunday’s shorter and relatively easier night out, started at a bright and breezy 9am. There had been much discussion over the course of the weekend about what we should do with our unchaperoned tour and we’d narrowed it down to Elephant Mountain in the morning and the Maokong gondola in the afternoon.

Taipei had other ideas.

On crossing to the Daan MRT station to start our journey, we were greeted with a flashing neon sign saying the gondola was closed for the day for maintenance. First Ngong Ping, now Maokong! Of all the luck!

No mind, we caught the train to Xiangshan anyway to do our morning climb, confident that a plan would present itself when the time came. Honey’s friend had left excellent directions to finding the start of the mountain climb, which is fortunate since it’s very poorly signposted.

We climbed the some thousand or so steps and were very pleased that our efforts were adequately rewarded with a gorgeous panoramic view of the whole city. We could see all the way down Xinyi Street to the apartment! And the massive cluster of buildings that is Taipei, hugged by the mountain bowl. It provided an excellent vantage point from which to plot our next movements.

We decided to catch the train to Tamsui, which promised a fishermans wharf and related activities, so it was down the mountain, back on the MRT (only 60NTs from one end town to the other!) and 40 minutes later we reached the end of the line to see what we could see on the Tamsui River.

Which turned out to be not a whole lot, but still a good leg stretch and some fresh(ish) air, so no regrets.

The last thing on my list was a visit to a Jade Market. Poorly prepared, we walked past where the big market was told to us to be but, coming up blank, we ended up having to pop back to the apartment to do some research (which was only a minute away since we were on our road anyway). A quick Google revealed that the Daan Park market was the main one… but only opened on weekends! Fortunately, there is also a daily one a few blocks from home.

A quick hop on the MRT and R6 and 11 minutes later we were at the market. Could definitely get used to this public transport thing!

Returning to the apartment less than an hour later, we found Teacher Honey waiting for us, so Christian nipped downstairs to the 7Eleven and we pulled up a plank on the roof for a sundowner (yes, the weather had held and it was still dry!) and a catch-up of the day’s events. We were so lucky to have Honey host us and lend us her flat – the casual downtime is always the best part of these holidays! 🙂

Finale dinner was another tapas style eating arrangement with some of the most delectable traditional Taiwanese food! Beef soup with noodles to start, spicy beef on morning glory, dumplings of every flavour, a beef tortilla thing… everything generously slathered or dunked in blackbean sauce, soy sauce and chilli oil. Ate to stuffed. Again.

Luckily it’s a city worth walking through, so we got to expend some of the food with a stroll to On Tap, the bar we’d been at the first night. We were, of course, far better behaved being a school night, but it was great to get in a last beer, review the fun weekend and compare notes for the future.

It was horrible to have to say goodbye – but hopefully it’s not for too long. And good friends are good friends, wherever they are. AND we have loads of new (and silly!) photos and memories to keep us going until next time.

What an excellent city! What a brilliant weekend! What genius people! Thank you, Taipei. We owe you one! 😉

Asia, Hong Kong, Travelogue

Travelogue Hong Kong 1: Lantau

LANTAU | DISCOVERY BAY

19-21 March 2014

It really is a long haul from Joburg to Hong Kong… but thanks to virtually empty flights, Emirates‘ superlative entertainment options and delicious food and a mercifully short (2 hour)  stopover in Dubai, it wasn’t so bad.

What was a bummer was finding out on landing at Hong Kong International Airport in Lantau that we’d just missed the bus to Discovery Bay and had an hour to wait until the next one. Although not so bad, since it gave us chance to get local currency and – since the busses only took exact change and we were now only packing HK$500s – *had to* spend some.

I suggested a bottle of water, but Christian returned with 2 beers, seemingly “a sign” since they amounted to HK$30 and we needed HK$70 for the bus. Amazing how much brighter the small things seem after 5 hours sprawled across 3 seats on the first flight plus 2 hours and some change over 2 (well, 2.5 if you consider that my head was on Christian’s lap) seats on the second. With a hearty “cheers”, we celebrated our arrival.

We had had no choice but to wait for the bus to take us to Discovery Bay because they don’t allow cars or taxis on that part of the island. We tried googling (using the airport’s free wifi – very civilised) but came up dry. What we did find out, is that the utility of cars has been replaced with golf carts. There are only 500 licenses though, so sometimes golf carts can cost up to HK$2 million!

There wasn’t much – besides blocks and blocks of apartments, mostly 30 stories high! – on the drive from the airport and we were disappointed that it was foggy as we drove into Discovery Bay (by now around 11pm), so we couldn’t see anything nor get our bearings. By the time we’d wound downhill to our destination, the Auberge, at the water’s edge, the mist was palpable! The air was the kind of wet that makes your hair curl as you step off the bus. Literally. :/

The hotel is gorgeous! Enormous cavernous reception with elaborate strings of fist-sized blue/azure/grey crystals hanging like chandeliers, grandiose escalier up to the left, 2 decadent curves of couches parenthesising a central  lounge area, concierge to greet us, porters to serve us, reception ma’am and sirring up a storm to us… certainly above our usual modest level of holiday accommodation!

We completed check-in (a lot longer than we’re used to since there were so many more features and facilities for us to be briefed on), freshened up in our (beautiful) suite and were out the door to go exploring.

Fail.

While it was super convenient that the Auberge annexes the Grand Plaza, everything was closed – judging by the signs, at 10.

Fortunately we’d eaten our fill on the flights (yes, 2 unchoosebetweenable options had again led to a “chicken [nasai goreng] AND fish [in cream parsley sauce with oregano potatoes]” answer to the stewardess’s predictable question), so didn’t need fuelling and it was nice to take a walk around anyway and stretch legs and whatnot.

Discovery Bay is situated on the NNW coast of Lantau Island, which is connected to the mainland by a bridge. The Auberge was situated at the top end of a curved bay, with a beach to the North and Disneyland to the North West. We walked south to see what all we could see along our bay’s shoreline.

It was a crisp evening, so a lovely walk. Discovery Bay was clearly the fancypants part of Lantau and everything was Stepfordly perfect. There was still a large concentration of apartment blocks, but with a smattering of townhouse strips, that must cost a pretty penny! It was very lush and green with precise, manicured gardens – even in the apartment complexes, where buildings are raised off the ground to start on what should be the first floor so that the space on the ground accommodates more greenery. And bicycles. Lots of bicycles. Not chained or locked, just neatly slotted in bike racks.

We walked through an area called Sienna, which seemed to be creme de la creme. Townhouses replaced apartments and golf carts replaced bicycles. Very weird to see parking lots of golf carts and not a car in sight. The roads were eerily quiet, although lit up like a Christmas tree because it appeared to be standard practice for buildings to leave (neon) lights on in their entrance hall and up the stairwells. Would make a killing introducing the concept of motion-sensor lights here, to be sure!

The area was very self-contained and completely accessible (not a high wall or locked gate in sight!) and we walked through a school, playground, sports centre, “Central Park”, a very lovely pond area with paths and bridges, and back onto the dockside walkway back to the hotel, for the most excellent night’s sleep under the fluffy white duvet and between the silky soft sheets.

THURSDAY

Breakfast was amazing, starting off with full Eastern and moving onto full Western. Very exotic to be eating beef su mei, pork and prawn dumplings, noodles and egg custard balls to start. Equally extravagant to follow with protein-intensive eggs, bacon, sausage, beef hash, salmon and beans!

A good start to what was planned to be a long day.

As all research had hinted it would be, public transport is cheap and easy. Also helpful that on Lantau there were only really four routes of interest.

We caught the bus down to the Pier, which was the main junction on the Discovery Bay side. There we caught the bus to Tung Chung, which is the main junction to travel to anywhere on Lantau, or get to the airport or the mainland. We were headed to Ngong Ping to see the Big Buddha Unfortunately, the (widely and highly recommended) cable car was closed for the day for maintenance so we had to take the bus.

The bus rides gave us chance to see most of Lantau island. Despite the impression that all the condensed apartments might give, there is still much undeveloped land on Lantau. There are stretches that resemble Mauritius with a smattering of small houses (tiled on the outside) on narrow hilly roads, with very tropical trees and shrubbery everywhere. Were it not for the cowboy bus-drivers and their deathwish roller-coaster driving style, the transport might’ve felt less logistical and more recreational!

We were deposited at the Pai Lao gate where we could walk up Bodhi Path, admiring the 12 Divine Generals stone statues (showing which animal of the Chinese zodiac each represented) up to the Di Tan circle at the base of the steep staircase that would take us up to Big Buddha. Hard to tell whether the people bowing in the Di Tan were praising Buddha or just asking him to give them the strength to survive the hundreds of steps!

We managed the steps with a single stop on the way up – conveniently a couple of monks were making their way down on the other side of the stairwell, which made for a great excuse to stop and rest… I mean, take a photograph.

The Big Buddha really was, well, big. An enormous statue perched atop a peak with breathtaking panorama of Lantau – not surprisingly, from our experience at ground level, very green and lush. He had worshipper statues all round, of slanty-eyed dancy people offering him lotus flowers and the like. Lots of fun watching tourists emulating the statues’ poses in their pics!

It was a far easier journey on the way down.

We worked our way through the rest of the complex quite quickly (mostly since the leisure spots all seemed to centre around vegetarian food) and took in the Po Lin Monastery, Hall of the Great Hero and Hall of A Thousand Buddhas in minutes, stopping to snicker at the Fat Ho Memorial Hall, which sadly didn’t have a big sign we could photograph.

The only other thing on Lantau I wanted to see was the Tai O ancient fishing village on the West coast, which turned out to be simple enough by catching the same 21 bus that had brought us to Ngong Ping. We’d learned at Tung Chung (from an Australian on the bus with us) that it was a advisable to buy an Octopus Card, which could be loaded with cash credit and swiped on all the public transport to avoid the exact change requirement, so hopping on and off busses was proving to be very simple and convenient.

Twenty minutes on the bus and we were at Tai O, met at the door by a lady peddling tickets for boat ride tour of the fishing village, General Rock and (potential) White Dolphin sightings. For only HK$25 it seemed like a good deal.

The fishing village was quite something. An entire village of houses on stilts, some quite neat and tidy, others little more than aluminium shacks. It would appear as if most have primary access from the water and there were loads of people pulling up to cafés and neighbour’s porches in their boats, climbing ladders alongside the stilts to get to the buildings above.

The boat then u-turned and headed back out to sea. The skipper pointed out General Rock, which was very aptly named because a more general rock you never have seen. Allegedly an outcrop section resembles the profile of a General. Allegedly.

Sadly, we didn’t see any dolphins on our trip. The Aussie who had given us the advice on the bus had warned that it was luck of the draw… but it was a cheap tour so worth the risk.

Thinking there might be more to the village, we crossed the river and walked the length of Shek Tsai Po Street. Not much to see, just the residential area. Although, quite a culture shock, again with no cars, and nothing locked up or tied down – including baskets full of shopping outside what seemed like a community meeting at the community hall. Noticeboards dotted at intervals along the walking path (there was no road to speak of) broadcast news and a small post office was the only official building. Heart-warmingly, even such a ‘simple’ society has split bins along the route for recycling.

Done with our day’s adventuring, the plan was to head back to Discovery Bay Pier (where we’d caught the bus out) and have an early dinner. For this we needed to connect at Tung Chung. With a gap between buses, Christian suggested we visit the adjacent mall, which turned into a far longer than planned interlude when first I found the Adidas/Reebok shop and *had* to get 2 new pairs of sports shoes (Christian also got 2 pairs, just to be sporting), then Christian found Gieves & Hawkes (of Savil Row) gentlemen’s outfitters and treated himself to 3 new tailored suits for work.

An hour later, spent (in more ways than one)?, we got the bus to DB Pier.

The Plaza at the Pier was a jovial affair, with an amphitheatre style arrangement in the centre that was filled with kids in the middle, playing, and moms on the low, wide steps around them, onlooking and socialising among themselves. Restaurants and shops surrounded the amphitheatre, providing another level of entertainment and adding to the buzz and movement within the area.  Walking through the plaza took us to the waterfront, with bars and restaurants opening onto a wide promenade, overlooking the pretty bay (the water in Lantau all seems to be a light translucent jade colour) and the stretch of beach at the inner side of the inlet.

We went with tradition and chose the Irish pub, McSorely’s, for a sundowner Guinness, but couldn’t bring ourselves to eat dinner there as their menu was all curry and burgers and this was, after all, our first meal in the Far East so it seemed only right to have something local and traditional.

Easier said than done. The restaurants were all world fare – German, Italian, American etc – as was the clientele, which we confirmed more and more now that we’d noticed. It seems that Discovery Bay’s niche is ex-pats. Mostly Irish, some English and a few Aussies from our vantage points, not a Chinese patron in sight.

Sundowners behind us, we found a noodle and congee bar option for dinner and decided it was the right thing to do. Tucked away and barely branded on the outside, we found it to be more like a canteen than a restaurant; Super Super was neat, tidy and efficient.

We ordered 4 meals to share, expecting to get tiny portions based on the prices (less than R200 for everything), but were proved mistaken when a few minutes later we were feasting on a tableful of food! Not a problem – everything was delicious! A prawn wanton soup (with noodles), spicy stripped pork and noodles, pork with rice (topped with pork mince, which was my best!) and chicken and prawn with rice. We ate all the good bits and our fair share of the starch, but there was still enough rice and noodles left for another person to eat their fill.

Congratulating ourselves on a dinner well done, we went to catch the tail end of the (3 hour) happy hour. It was a bit disappointing that there is no local brew, so we had to settle for the German, Brazilian and Japanese beers options we were presented. Beers are quite expensive – no doubt since they’re imported – at HK$50 each. There was not a local patron in sight; everyone again Irish, English and Aussie, with an American family for good measure. Not sure if it’s Discovery Bay thing or a DB Pier thing…

The buses run all night so we had no trouble (and no more than 5 minutes wait) to hop on and head back to our hotel to drop off our shopping and have a nightcap on the big, manicured hotel verandah overlooking the sea and then another in the big, beautiful hotel bar.

All in all, a great first day in Discovery Bay on Lantau Island. Perfectly ended with a flop into the kingsize bed with thick and fluffy duvet and silky soft sheets – a far cry from the airline seats of the night before!

And good prep for the next leg of the tour – Taiwan!

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 10: Madrid

MADRID

21-23 September 2013

It was always one step forward, two steps back. On the bright side we found Atocha Station in Madrid surprisingly easily (once again without Google Maps); on the downside dropping the car off turned into a nightmare!

We found a petrol station right outside Atocha Station and filled up the car, as instructed. We had no problem finding the Europcar depot or passing the checks. The big fight started when Europcar wanted to charge me SIX HUNDRED Euros for the car when my total according to the online booking I did months prior was €278.

They were saying we had opted for insurance, we definitely did not – and distinctly said no – because the insurance was more than the rental and our online booking contract included the major theft/damage waivers so we didn’t actually need it. That brought the total to €400. Then they added a whole bunch of other admin charges like one way fees (already covered in our booking contract) and fuel surcharges (not applicable because we’d filled the car up).

Two hours of back and forthing, phoning the Barcelona depot where we got the car and the online agency that rented us the car etc until I eventually had had enough and asked for a complaint form. I put my sorry story on paper and told the man at the counter that they could call me when they had the correct paperwork ready and I’d come in to pay. Needless to say, despite a post on their site, a series of Tweets and an email to their central customer services, I still hadn’t heard from them. So, it was as yet unresolved, but all my correspondence stated they could not take a cent over €278 off my card so hoped like hell that they were consumer litigious like in the US and that was scary enough for them not to just deduct the €600!

Anyway, that was enough to ruin the first impression of Madrid, but fortunately there was much more to come.

We caught a taxi to our apartment since we were now very late to meet our landlady and there was no wifi at the station or Europcar office for us to reschedule. Fortunately, she was very understanding and showed us around our digs. While our entire apartment (bedroom, living room and bathroom) totalled about the size of my bedroom at home, the space was very well allocated and the flat newly upgraded and clean, so we were very pleased. And we could not have asked for a better location – a quiet street with a festive café at the bottom of the road, a small plaza at the top with a shop a restaurant and a pub and a short trot to all the action on Gran Via and surrounds, which is where we headed first.

It was early evening and the place was teeming with people! Restaurants and cafés full; wide pavements a throng of people moving in all directions. It made it slow-going to get anywhere and since we didn’t have a specific plan to get anywhere, we stuck with what always worked and entertained ourselves with caña, tapas and, for a change, a nice sit-down dinner with lasagne, seafood pasta and good Rioja.

SUNDAY

On Sunday morning we were once again grateful for Lonely Planet guide since there was, surprisingly, not a tourist office to be found. Having breakfasted at the apartment (boiled egg and soldiers) we planned on a vigorous sightseeing walking tour (of our own design), starting with the museums Christian wanted to see, then the a few key monuments and buildings, leisurely lunch and an evening of tapas touring.

Spanner in the works when we got to the first museum, the Museo Del Prado, only to find they have free entry in the afternoon from 17H00. Quite a saving on the usual €18. So we went to the next one, the Reina Sofia art musuem. Same story, free from 15H00.

Not to be deterred, we did a walk around and took in some of the other sights. The Puerto del Sol, which is where the city gates once stood and was now the official centre and “heart” of Madrid; the Plaza Mayor, which might be every bit as lovely as its Salamanca counterpart were we not so biased; down this road and that to churches, monuments, old buildings, arches, statues and fountains… stumbling across less famed treasures in between.

We of course stopped for the obligatory refuels and lucked out in crossing another aim of the day – an authentic Spanish paella – off the list quite by accident when we were served it as a tapas at Los Madroño in the Plaza del Angel and a huge bowl of it, also as a tapas, at Boñar de Leon on Calle de la Cruz Verde. Both recommendable depending whether its quality or quantity (respectively) that you’re after.

We returned to Reina Sofia and had no trouble gaining free access. Our primary mission was to see Picasso’s Guernika, so we went to that hall first and worked through the rest of the Picasso, cubists and Dali exhibits from there. Quite a thing to have seen such famous works up close – especially Guernika since it was so relevant to the regions we’d just visited.

We then made our way back to the Prado, but weren’t as lucky. The queue was out the door, round the corner and up the street. We made do with a photo of the statue of Velazquez outside (since it was the exhibit of his works that we’d primarily wanted to see) and went back to our informal wanderings.

Madrid is a great city for that. Even though it was criticised for being younger than most of the other main tourist cities in Spain, having only been capital since the 16th century and most of its buildings being from 19th and 20th centuries, there was a distinct elegance to its layout and a healthy enough representation of enormity and grandiosity to have us impressed! It had all the wide avenues and beautifully manicured street gardens to equal the most sophisticated European cities as well as a lively energy and the constant hubbub that gained the city its reputation for character and unsurpassed nightlife and entertainment. Madrid was not a city that never slept, but certainly one that didn’t sleep at night!

MONDAY

Monday, being our last day, we covered the other half of the city, starting with the Mercado Marvellas. Even though well after midday, lots of restaurants and cafés were only starting to open for the day – and even more were still shut tight. By sharp contrast, just as many people were drinking beer and wine as were drinking coffee and OJ!

The crowning glory of the day’s tour though was the Real Madrid stadium, Estadio Santiago Bernabeu, which is predictably enormous! Similarly sized to our FNB Stadium with a seating capacity of 90,000 people, it must cause chaos when there’s a match on seeing as the stadium is right in the middle of the city!

Last stop was a fond farewell caña and tapas (lomo, pork loin) at our corner pub. It was quite something to watch those barmen operate. The pub was about the size of my lounge (maybe 20 x 6m) with a wide bar counter running lengthways along the middle. The barman was on one side, with his hard tack and barrels behind him; the counter had tapas cases on it on one side, a sunken sink built in on the other and draught taps facing the barman in the middle.

There were customers sitting on barstools, standing leaning on the counter and milling about… and 1 barman serving the lot! And by serving it means taking orders, pouring drinks, serving the tapas, keeping tally of who has had what, sorting out bills and even washing glasses and tapas plates! One guy! It was amazing – and a little exhausting – watching him juggle everything! Maybe we’d been on holiday too long! 😀

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 9: Toledo

TOLEDO

20 September 2013

We must have gotten quite an amount of good luck from spotting the frog in Salamanca as our trip to Toledo started off with a nail-biter. We left Salamanca with 20km worth of fuel according to our digital fuel gauge and wrongly assumed there would be a service station on the outskirts of town. It was only with the dumbest of luck that we freewheeled through a little town about *thirty* kilometres from Salamanca… having been holding breath since the range number tripped to zero several kilometres earlier!

From there we could at least start to enjoy the scenery. Not that there was much to see as a drive through the Spanish heartland is akin to a drive through the Free State at home.

AVILA

We’d initially considered an overnight stop in Avila based on recommendation in the Lonely Planet guide, but it wouldn’t have been justified. The town is so small that it was easy to crisscross and see all the sights in half an hour (assuming you were happy with a “walk past” the churches and monuments and a few snappies of the prettier relics, as we were). It was definitely worth a stop though, since it was so well preserved and looked every inch a fairytale.

Its real history sounded a little more dramatic than a “once upon a time” though, tributing the foundation of the town to obscure Iberian tribes, who were then assimilated into Celtic society, Romanised, Christianised, changed hands regularly for 300 years, and then became an important commercial centre after Alfonso VI took Toledo in 1085. Things then got controversial with the nobles picking fights with the Muslims and in the imperial escapades in Flanders and South America, then expelling the Jews in 1492 and a century later trying to get rid of the Christianised Muslims. No wonder Tomas de Tourquemade chose to retire to Avila after organising the most brutal phase of the Spanish Inquisition!

The city walls, built in the 12th century were still perfectly preserved and offered a 2.5km walk including 2500 battlements, 88 towers, 6 gates, 3 wicket gates, the apse of a cathedral and a singular belltower. That was thirsty work! In a town with more than proportionate watering holes!  Had we not been driving, Avila would be lovely setting for a caña and a tapas, and there were many pavement cafés and restaurants that looked very alluring.

If we had done an overnight, it would have been nice to visit neighbouring Segovia, which is supposed to be just as wonderous but on grander scales with the extraordinary engineering of the 728m aquaduct and the Rapunzel-like Alcazar towers, turrets topped with slate witches’ hats and deep moat around (said to have inspired the Sleeping Beauty castle at Disneyland).

TOLEDO

The countryside changed quite radically when you entered the province of Castilla-La Mancha with its harsh dry southern plateau, as immortalised in the literary classic, Don Quixote. There was little else to see beside Toledo (its capital), so the region was often skipped by tourists.

I’d tussled for quite some time trying to figure out where we wanted to be based in Toledo. There are so many websites giving info and flogging accommodation that it was info overload and increasingly difficult to make decisions. Toledo was a tricky one since the town was contained within old city walls, nestled into a U of the Rio Tajo. This city particularly was known for the labyrinth-like maze of roads, so I logicked that this was one place worth sacrificing the authenticity staying in the old town and the beauty of a view of the river for the pragmatism of staying just outside the upper city gates, parking the car at the hotel and managing the rest on foot. Paydirt! I could not have done better as the town was super confusing, even with a map, and the roads were the kind you’d have to be born to navigate!

We stayed at the Hotel Martin, which could not have been better. Off the main drag but only one road from the Toledo old city gates, the hotel was rated (and priced) a 2 star, but our suite was big and beautifully decorated with white linens and curtains, wooden wardrobe and furnishings, a bathroom big enough to have a party in – and terraces off the bedroom and the bathroom. Add the location, big fluffy white towels, free toiletries and big flat screen TV and it was madness that we only paid R400 for the night!

Being about 17h00 by the time we were in and settled, we rationalised it best to leave the hard work tourist stuff for the next day and just focus on a dinner in the old town… but despite ourselves we got swept up on entry, approaching the Bisagra Gate with its triumphant arch flanked by semicircular towers, impressive imperial 2-headed eagle coat of arms, the insignia of the Golden Fleece… appearing as magnificently to today’s visitors as it did to visitors approaching from Madrid in 1550!

We’d been given a tourist map at the hotel so blended a “best of both” tour of our own, smattering some sights and cultural stuff in between a caña and tapas crawl (an art we’ve perfected) and even upping the ante with paying for a round of tapas since there were 2 local dishes I really wanted to try.

First was a Carcamusas de Toledo, a rich blend of pork cubes stewed in tomato and herbs that was equal portions tender and juicy – absolutely delicious. The second was a peculiar local favourite called Migas Manchegas that I was more curious about than anything – white bread lightly toasted fried in garlic and oil to make sort of croutons, served with diced sausage and ham and topped with a fried egg and bacon. The result was a sort of breakfast dinner.

We also managed to log a pint on our Guinness Index at an unexpected Irish pub called O’Brien’s, that was on the windiest, steepest street that was just begging for a wettie-stop when you were neither up nor down!

FRIDAY

Day 2 in Toledo was made that much easier since we already knew where everything was and what we wanted to visit (properly) AND we knew what and where we wanted to breakfast on – although we have adapted to Spain time, so breakfast was scheduled for midday!

We entered by the same Bisagra Gate – now fully appreciating what we were seeing – and up the entry road to the next attraction, the Puerto del Sol inner gate, built in the 14th Century and so named because of the sun and moon on its tympanum. There was a modern art statue in front of it that, from its label, claimed to be a bull. Personally I thought it was a load of bull because frankly it looked more like a big metal speech bubble!

First stop was the famous central square, Plaza Zocodover, to try and get an English tourist map, which we did. The legend made it easy to narrow our hit list. Nix the 7 museums, 4 churches, 4 convents, 2 mosques, 2 synagogue and a monastery and it was easy – 3 gates, 2 bridges and a Roman Baths (we could have had a partridge too since it was a local delicacy, but without the pear tree it was just a bony little bird really).

The bridges were so worth seeing! Enormous arched structures spanning deep gorges to connect the multi-volumed brick outer walls of the city to the green valley banks on the far side of the Rio Tajo, with high towers and arched gates flanking either side. It was quite a job getting up and down the slopes and stairs toward the gates, but perfect if you were working up an appetite for Salamanca Charcuteria, where you could get the *best* jamon bocadilla and lomo and chourizo pie, which was made like a Beef Wellington so the cheese melts into the pastry and the lomo is soft and tender.

Since we’d already done the gates, all that was left was to check out the Roman Baths, which turned out – bonus – to be a free exhibit. Beautifully preserved since the Romans had used cement to build them. This wasn’t the only ingenuity they’d used – they were really clever and had made all sorts of thermal aquaducts to heat the water for their steam rooms.

All said and done, Toledo was a ‘must do’ stop – and it was only 79km from Madrid so can easily be done as a day trip or overnighter.

Europe, Spain, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 8: Salamanca

SALAMANCA

19 September 2013

After a 314km uninterrupted drive from Coimbra, we were pleased to arrive in Salamanca – and the first impressions on driving into the town further warmed our welcome.

As usual, Google Maps had successfully guided us the bulk of the journey, but we once again found ourselves left hanging as we approached the town and found the directions for roundabouts and exits not matching up.  At least Salamanca was a less complicated layout though, with 4 bridges crossing the Rio Tormes on approach and most roads in the town directed toward the central square, Plaza Mayor (right upon which was the pension I’d booked us into). Rather than messing about, we parked the car in the first parkjng garage we saw (€14.40 a night!) and attacked the finer directions on foot.

It was really easy to find our accommodation (Pension Los Angeles) since it was literally on the Plaza Mayor, a little door wedged among the bars and restaurants leading to the apartments upstairs. The perfect location! Our en-suite room had a balcony overlooking the square. The perfect view!

Plaza Mayor, with its harmonious and controlled Baroque design, impressive size and symmetry, built-in matching City Hall and arcaded square, was noted as being the most beautiful in Spain – and this was fact, not opinion!  The Plaza was much bigger than others we’d seen (roughly 80 x 80m) and the combination of its “squareness” with uniform rows of balconied rooms mirroring each other and the monochromy of the use of golden-hued Villamayor stone (same colour and texture as sandstone) from floor to ceiling, would send poor old Gaudi into apoplexy! But the result was breathtaking and literally awesome.

Having garnered a tourist map from our landlord, we realised it wasn’t worth plotting a formal walking tour route around Salamanca as almost all the sites (all bar the Roman Bridge) were contained within the old city and there was something to see on almost every corner – although with 11 churches, 4 convents and 10 historically relevant mansions it can get a bit samey-samey.

Salamanca was home to the oldest University in Spain, founded in the 13th century, and most of the old buildings house university faculties museums. It was understandable why young people would relish spending time here – and their presence was definitely felt in the price and value offering of the glut of restaurants and bars and the overwhelming amount of entertainment options, more or less 24/7.

We did visit the one university building, the Universidad Civil, to do some “frog-spotting”. It is said that if you can spot the frog on the elaborately carved facade, then you’ll enjoy great luck. We both managed to see the frog… but with a little direction from the info boards!

Hard work aside, we were able to settle into an evening of tapas hopping…

  • Meson La Dehesa – baguette with jamon (cured ham) and Iberian cheese
  • O’Hara Irish Pub – kettlefried crisps, chourizo on baguette
  • Bambu – lasagne, bolognaise tortilla, sourdough with prawns on garlic cream, Iberian ham and sweet tomato pizza
  • La Perla Negra – no tapas, but a free boys Guinness t-shirt
  • Casa de Vinos Doctrinos – sourdough with lomo cabecero (combination of lomo and jamon) and Iberian lomo (marbled)
  • Catalina’s – bacon and cheese croissant and ham, cheese, cream cheese  and onion crepe
  • Cervesaria Gambrinus – (poor) sausage and quail’s egg on baguette; pork dumpling in phyllo
  • Disfruta de Todo  – jamon croquette
  • Irish Rover – crisps and a free girls Guinness t-shirt
  • Gastro Taberna El Reloj – calamari strips and tuna lasagne ; meat lasagne

All of the above served free with our orders of caña or fine local Rioja, never over €2!

Europe, Portugal, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 7: Coimbra

COIMBRA

18 September 2013

Coimbra, 119km south of Porto, has been a settlement since Roman times and was the capital of Portugal in the Middle Ages. Archaeological structures and relics still remained – and were open to view – in Conimbriga (18km southwest of Coimbra) and buildings from its era as capital in the 1100s still stood in the city. In the 1200s Coimbra got its university – the first in Portugal and one of the first in Europe – for which it is best known today, making it the “Oxford of Portugal”.

Coimbra was in Beira Litoral (litoral meaning coastal) province and was the third biggest town in Portugal after Lisbon and Porto. Between its lengthy history and modern university life, there was a good blend of sight-seeing and (economical) entertainment to be had.

Because the centre of the old city was the warren of narrow cobbled streets you’d expect, it was really only feasible to explore on foot, although there was a hop-on-hop-off tourist bus that made circumnavigation of the perimeter a bit easier since the city was built on a steep hill – university on the hilltop with the tangle of old town around and below it, spilling all the way down to the river.

We managed to avoid this congestion, staying minutes out of old town, but still on the main Avenida Fernao de Magalhaes, which was mercifully simple for getting into and out of the city via the main onramp/offramp roundabout. I’d booked us at the Comfort Inn Almedina, which turned out to be nothing like the pictures, but perfectly adequate anyway in City Lodge style.

Planning a walking tour route was easy (using the tourist map from the hotel front desk) since the main sights did a snail’s shell spiral from where we were, up the hill and through the old town, spitting us out at the river, leaving just the monasteries on the other side of the river… and hopefully a curry dinner since the tourist map recommended an ‘Indiano’ restaurant on the riverside.

We whipped around all the requisite squares, statues, monuments and churches (hastening to breakneck speed to pass the dreary Fado folk singers) with the highlight being lunching on a bifade, which was a cheese and pork sandwich on fresh soft Portuguese roll (they probably just call them “rolls” here though) with a creamy mustard and dill sauce.

With renewed humour, we slowed the pace a bit and (almost) visited a museum, took some pics at the Arco de Almedina (the city’s Moorish gateway) and sourced a fridge magnet and a Coimbra soccer shirt for Christian on the main pedestrianised shopping streets, Rua Visconde da Luz and Rua Ferreira Borges. This brought us out at the Largo da Portagem, with the city behind us, the riverfront Avenida Emidio Navarro stretching out right and left of us and the Rio Mondego and Ponte de Santa Clara bridge in front of us .

River Rio Mondego’s source was in the Serra da Estrela (Portugal’s highest mountain range and main geophysical landmark), making it the longest exclusively Portuguese river, since most of the others source in Spain. And of course, the main bridge is named after my saint, Santa Clara, who Pedro in Porto told us gained acclaim for forming the Clarist nuns (the female version of Francis of Assisi’s Franciscan monks). Reassuringly since she was so high profile with so much named after her, the rolling Portuguese accent lifts the ‘a’ in Clara so it is pronounced correctly.

Across the river cluster 3 former convents, most prominently Mosteiro de Santa Clara-a-Velha. Commissioned by Queen Elizabeth in 1314, the monastery housed a convent of Clarist nuns. The waters of the nearby river Mondego gradually encroached and it was eventually abandoned on 1677. Archaeological works and extensive excavations in 1995 enabled the semi-submerged cloister to be retrieved. You could pay to walk around the site, but we didn’t bother since you gotwere a perfect view from the outside.

Considering all the sights done, we took some time-out and had a little sit on the riverbank walls with a beautiful view and shaded by the gorgeous rows of trees that line the pedestrian avenue alongside the river. There were lots of benches provided and it looked like a popular meeting place for lovestruck couples and small cliques of students to hang out. Nice to note that it was appreciated and kept neat, tidy and almost graffiti-free.

Wanting to drop off our shopping before embarking on sundowners and dinner, we took a trot past Guls Indiano restaurante since it was en route and found, to our immense dismay, that the place looked locked up tight. There was a notice in the window, presumably explaining the situation, but since the only bit in the long Portuguese message that was fathomable was the words “force majeure”, so prospects looked bleak.

We’d been quite sold on the idea of a curry so, when back at the hotel we did a quick Google search, which turned up 2 other leads for Indian restaurants. We weren’t optimistic since they didn’t feature on the tourist map (which meant they likely either didn’t exist or weren’t good enough to mention). Either way, their positions and the route between made for as good a sundowner trail as any, so we decided to go with it.

First hope was quickly dashed as the supposed site was on one of the little cross streets a couple of blocks up from the hotel. Luckily though, mid-September is Magic Festival time in Coimbra and there was a big show happening on the square, which distracted us for a bit.

We again climbed the hill up toward the University as this is where the biggest cluster of pubs and cafés (predictably) was and were horrified when we found our second stop, Tapas Bar, only opened at midnight!  … but there is another Tapas Bar branch further up the hill and around the corner that is open normal hours, so we went there instead and had a lovely time.

Our walk from there to the second curry house took us past the Botanical Gardens, which we’d discounted from our sightseeing initially, but which I’m now grateful to have seen, with its beautiful manicured terraces and imposing Great Expectations pillars and wrought-iron grids.

Needless to say, the curryhouse had been replaced by a kebab shop, so there was little else left to do than concede defeat and walk the length along the river front from where we were on the extreme East side to the Plan B options (recommended by the trusty Lonely Planet guide) sitting slightly west of centre… which took us right past Guls… which was open!

We had a really delicious feast of onion baji to entrée our chicken makhani, lamb kahari, pilau rice, garlic and sesame naans. Everything very good, although quite different from what we’re used to getting at home (or what we had in India for that matter) and portions half the size (although still more than enough).

What a delightful, if not a little unconventional, farewell to the Portuguese leg of our trip!

Europe, Portugal, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 6: Porto

PORTO

16-18 September 2013

Porto started in Roman times as twin city settlements on either side of the Duoro river mouth. When Cale on the south bank grew to be an important crossing on the Lisbon-Braga road and Portus on the north bank established itself as a harbour, the cities merged (much like Buda and Pest in Hungary) and became Portus-Cale, the capital of the county of Portucale. This land was given to Henri of Burgundy on his marriage to the daughter of the King of León in 1095 and it was their son, Alfonso Henriques, who ultimately founded the independent kingdom of Portugal.

Our introduction to Porto was complicated. We’ve found the Google maps to be a bit vague at times and to leave out a vital instruction here or there that complicated things no end. Porto was one of those and a simple “first roundabout” instead of “second” sent us on a wild goose chase, entering the city from the wrong side completely – and consequently being nowhere near where we needed to be (and quite disappointed with the look of the city, since it was the quite grungy industrial side). Matters were made infinitely worse by the Porto drivers, who were far more aggressive than any we’d encountered anywhere else on our roadtrip – and who reminded us of home with their “stop anywhere” double-parking and zeal in taking gaps that didn’t exist!

Some angst later, we managed to rectify our course and find the road that ran along the river and into the Centro through the Ribeira, which in turn allowed us to find our road with relative ease. Challenge now was that our road was closed to cars and wedged between 2 parallel roads… but not in a grid system, so circling back from overshooting the road the first time proved to be challenging at best (and very frustrating). Of course our Google Maps were of no use, so we were left trying to patch together our directions using the few maps in the Lonely Planet guide, which were clearly not designed for this exercise, and street name markings, which were few and far between.

We spotted an Info office – coincidentally across the intersection from our ‘hidden’ road – and pulled a Porto, double-parking outside. Christian ran into the Info office; I ran across to our road to confirm our hotel.

Christian hit paydirt with an English-speaker, a free city map and instructions on where to find free parking; I found our road in turmoil, with the whole road blocked off as a construction site, with narrow walkways caged off on either side. I followed one of the walkways halfway down and couldn’t find the hotel, so turned around and made my way back since it was slow going and we were double-parked.

The plan was to circle around back to the bottom of the main road (Rue de Mouzinho da Silveira) that ran parallel to our road (Rue das Flores) to find a free parking spot. But that proved to be more difficult than anticipated as the town planner apparently went to the same school as Gaudi since he seems to have been incapable of a straight line. In fact, if you looked at the city map topographically, you’d think that there are hidden hieroglyphs in the floral arrangement of streets since they are so uniformly ununiform! Very frustrating for newcomers!

Eventually we caved and parked at an Underground pay parking an indeterminate distance from our accommodation. Fortunately though, we had each packed an overnight bag so were able to lock the suitcases in the boot of the car.

Turned out it was much easier to move around Porto on foot and we were at Porto Alive only a few minutes later and checking into our “penthouse terraced room with a view”, which really translated into a room on the 3rd of 3 floors, with a square metre of balcony that of course has to look onto something, namely the back of the Cathedral (of which, in such long-standing Catholic territory, there are many).

On check-in we were advised of free daily walking tours at 10h30 and 15h30, so we decided to join the afternoon tour since it was 14h30 already so it left just enough time for lunch – and we wouldn’t have to where or why of what to see in Porto.

What to have for lunch was an easy decision, having read that Porto’s claim to fame was a mega sandwich called a Francesinha. Filled with cheese, steak, ham and two types of sausage, the behemoth is then topped with a fried egg, has cheese sauce poured over it and then a layer of light yellow stringy cheese melted over the top of that, enough so that it melts down the sides to form a sort of cheese case around the whole parcel. It is then served in a soup bowl with a thick, rich gravy poured over the whole lot and an optional portion of fries packed around the sandwich on top of the gravy. You can see why we opted to share one (and nixed the fries).

We met up with the tour guide and group at the “man on a horse” statue in the middle of Avenidu dos Aliados for our walking tour. We found out that our guide’s name was Pedro, as was the fellow on the horse who was Pedro I of Brazil, having been the son of King Pedro of Portugal who went to Brazil (being a Portuguese colony) and loved it so much that he convinced his dad to give it to him, thus giving Brazil independence under his reign as King Pedro I of Portugal.

When his dad died, the Portuguese wanted Pedro I of Brazil to come back and become Pedro IV of Portugal, but he wasn’t keen so he instead sent his daughter to marry his brother, Miguel, and in so doing unintentionally set in motion quite a malarkey since since Miguel then dissolved the Parliament and made Portugal an absolute monarchy.

Obviously, the people were less than pleased, so Pedro came back from Brazil to Porto, whereupon Miguel laid siege on the city and for over a year not a person was allowed in or out. The people of Porto held out and Miguel was overthrown in 1833. Pedro was so overwhelmed by the solidarity of the people of Porto that he wished his heart to remain there (conjecture as to how literally he meant this) so when he died, his body was laid to rest in Brazil but his heart is in a jar of formaldehyde in a local church in Porto (which apparently sounds more romantic than it looks).

Having a tour guide was great for depth of stories like that – and he even had us going that the swarms of young people in black and white uniforms with black capes were Harry Potter fans, which was verified as feasible by one of the tour attendees who knew that JK Rowling had lived for some time in Porto. Turned out that they were also actually second year university students, who earn the right to wear the uniform by passing first year.

There was some credence to the Potter link though as Rowling is said to have drawn inspiration on the uniforms and some elements of the book from here. Bearing testament, we visited the glorious bookstore, Livrario Lello, with the staircase that was said to have inspired the moving staircases in the books. The bookstore was voted the third most beautiful (after ones in Buenos Aires and Maastricht, housed in an old church and theatre respectively) and it was easy to see why with its towering double volume floor-to-ceiling shelves and the magnificent staircase that occupied the whole of the middle of the floor, with split elevations that boggled the eyes and gave the appearance of motion.

The guide then took us to the Park Municipal das Virtudes with its beautiful fountain and terraces, which flowed from the now long-gone Cristal Palace, which looked like it must’ve been breathtakjng. The gardens alone were pretty spectacular and it was reassuring to see the locals enjoying the space.

We concluded with a series of look-out points and while the views of the bridges, waters and landmarks were awesome, the look-out points themselves were a mess and there was a lot of squalor to be seen as well. Pedro went into great detail about the chronology and history of the bridges, but the important thing is that it was the Ponte Luis I bridge that was the main one (train on the top part, cars and pedestrians on the bottom). Interestingly, the bridge was launched with a toll attached, but as soon as the cost of the bridge had been covered, the toll was removed. That would never happen in South Africa!

It was at the Porto side of the Mont Luis I bridge that our tour came to a close at about 18h30, with Pedro advising that the best next step was to cross the bridge over to the Vila Nova de Gaia on the other side to enjoy sunset with the perfect view, of Porto. That side of the river is also known for port wine production, for which the region is world famous. One of the producers, Wiese & Krohn, hosted free tasting until 20h00, so we decided to do that first since they’re positioned at the far end of the promenade.

We were given 3 varieties to try: white, tawny and full-bodied. They were awful! Not just Krohn’s, but port in general. It’s sweet and syrupy with a very strong taste – not our thing at all! That put a spanner into the itinerary since the whole of the next afternoon was supposed to be dedicated to this side of the river and sampling at a selection of the many producers! Nevermind though, always something else to do.

We left Krohn’s, deciding we needed a palette cleanser and got drawn in by a 5 ’til 8 Happy Hour (clearly not ones to be constrained by the literal), at a front table with perfect unobstructed river view. We’d already decided this night to be the one that would sate our quest for Bacalhau (codfish) and we’d come to the right place! Taberninha do Manel served an excellent Bacalhau com Natas (codfish with with diced potatoes in a cream al forno) and Bacalhau á Braz (codfish with diced potatoes, egg and onions) and we were very happy our choice… and appreciative of the gesture of the complimentary port wine that came with the bill. We forced it back to be polite.

TUESDAY

Schedule wide open post premature port wine tasting the previous night, we decided to join Pedro for his Tuesday morning walking tour which he had assured covered completely different ground to the afternoon tour. Having walked the city flat the day before, we easily found our way to the meeting spot at the Pedro monument.

Pedro again opened with a story relevant to our location, this time telling the story of why the Aliados avenue is actually a square and not an avenue at all. Apparently it was planned to be a 5km long avenue that stretched up the hill to from the site of the old town square, to celebrate prosperity and Portugal joining the Allies in World War I (hence the name Aliados, meaning Allies). The plan was thwarted however by a little old Catholic church in the planned path, which the Catholics said under church law could not be demolished. After lengthy back and forthing, the plans for the avenue had to be scrapped so to get even a big city hall was built in front of the church, exactly the same shape but much bigger so as to hide the offending building.

We also visited  Sao Bento station, which is famed for its elaborate exterior, interior pressed the ceilings and its extensive Azulejos (handpainted blue on white tiles) telling the story of transportation evolution in Portugal on the one level and stories of great Portuguese victories on others. The other point of interest is that the architect got so wound up in the design and decor that he forgot some key functional elements, like ticket office and waiting rooms, so adjacent buildings had to be bought to annex for the station to be practically operational.

This intense decoration is visible in some of the (many) churches we saw. The Santa Clara church is decorated (so that it looked like it had been dipped) in gold leaf from Brazil and the Sao Francisco church was decorated with 600kg of gold, which at current prices was about 25 million Euros of gold, which in turn with patrimonial value included brought the value of the church then to 250 million Euros!

Besides the opulence, Pedro encouraged us to enjoy some of the simpler pleasures, taking us up to a section of the Old City wall where we could get excellent photos both up and down the river and of Porto and Gaia. There are only small sections of the walls that remain as the majority was demolished in the early 18th century when Porto had outgrown the city space within the 2.6km perimeter and the wealthy living outside the city were complaining that their assets weren’t being protected. Using warped logic, they demolished sections of the walls… only to have the French invade the now vulnerable city and take everyone’s stuff!

Pedro ended off the 3 hour tour with advice on where and what to have for lunch. First he told us about the Francesinha, the epic sandwich that has been Porto’s claim to fame for 60+ years, since it was invented by a chap returning to Porto from his studies in France. He had had more luck with the more liberal French lasses so he devised a cunning plan to improve his chances with his Portuguese conquests.

Contrary to popular belief, the Portuguese don’t eat spicy food and there are no traditional meals like the peri-peri ones they’re internationally famed for – in fact, an Australian in our group asked “What about Nando’s?” and had to be corrected that it was a South African chain! So, the Francesinha guy concocted his meaty offering to appeal to all tastes and then added the spicy sauce so that the ladies would get hot and remove layers of clothing – and quash the burning by sipping on beers, which would make them more amiable. They must have been real ninnies because we didn’t find the sauce to be burny at all!

The second story was about Tripas da mota do Porto, a tripe stew. Henry the Navigator was born in Porto and was quite popular with the people. When he decided to go seafaring, he realised the sailors would be at sea for a very long time and would need nourishment for the journey. He appealed to the locals to provide food and they gave him all the meat (salted) that they had, leaving the people only with less noble meats (innards, stomach, giblets etc). With necessity being the mother of invention, the people of Porto learned to make what they had palatable – and even into something they loved and preferred. When Henry’s sailors returned with rice and spices from Asia, and beans and spices from South America the recipe was enhanced and improved to what it is today. This is also the source of the options derogatory nickname the people of Lisbon have for them (Tripeiros or people who eat tripe), but the Portos in turn called the Lisboetas Alfacinhas or “lettuce eaters”.

To end off the day, we caught the 500 bus to Foz, Porto’s beaches at the rivermouth. We enjoyed a long stroll along all of the beaches  from Praia de Molhe (claiming to be a Blue Flag beach) where you find the Pergola da Foz, one of Porto’s most iconic postcard images. It was a lovely sunset walk, easily managed with the wide and even promenade, and highly recommended to round off the Porto experience.

Europe, Portugal, Travelogue

Travelogue Iberia 5: Chaves

CHAVES

15 September 2013

Chaves (pronounced “Shove-sh” and meaning “keys”) made the itinerary purely on location, conveniently placed between Leon and Porto, 10km into Portugal from the Spanish border. It also held the most promise of the options being rich in history since its fame as Aquae Flaviae in 78AD Roman times, so named by Flavio Vespasiano when he arrived to explore the region’s goldmines and found the hypothermal Caldas of Chaves instead (73 degree Celsius spas, making them the warmest in Europe).

We arrived at 16h30, which turned out to be 15h30 local time – we’d moved so far west that we’d gained a time zone, which we were choosing to loosely translate as an hour extra holiday! Bonus!

The town, being an old one, had the (now) usual maze of narrowed one-ways, so we parked the car (in the, for once, ample parking) and used the Lonely Planet guide city map to locate our hotel, the Florinda B&B, chosen for its central location and inclusion of breakfast.

It would appear that we were staying in the equivalent of the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel as the couches and chairs in the foyer were all occupied by ladies and gents who seemed they might’ve been there for years… with no intention of moving. It was only eyes that followed us as we swanned in from the street and moved deftly through the passage of canes to the reception desk.

The nearest old dear stood up from her armchair and took her position behind the concierge desk, whereupon I showed her our booking form. She studied it intently and then pulled out a folio book with “Reservations” embossed on the cover and started to write something. She hesitated and looked at me, then pointed her pen at me and then the sheet and said “Nome?”. She was pointing at “Double Room”. She thought my name was Double Room!! Trying not to laugh, I pointed at my name further down and she exclaimed “Ah! Santa Clara!”. As effective as RICA!

We deposited our bags in our 2nd floor room. Not bad, with terrace, satellite TV (Portuguese only, no doubt) and aircon (welcome since it was notably hotter this side of the border), but very old-fashion copper chintzy curtains and crest-embossed flannel bedspread. It must’ve been a gem in its day with the big rooms, original hardwood floors, dark wood wardrobe and marble bathroom vanity counters. Very 1960! And in the same colour scheme as our Portuguese phrasebook which, published in 1958, has lots of fun stuff in it about where to send telegrams from, where to buy British cigarettes and insistences on being directed to the Consulate.

Besides that, it also reminded us that wewere lucky to have avoided the 3 day ship journey to Lisbon from London, Southampton or Liverpool (who knows how long it might have taken us to get there!) and secondly, we clearly live in far easier times based on the long chapters dedicated to cashing postal orders, making trunk calls, orders at the tobacconist and managing at the hairdresser when getting a perm or one’s hair set. No mention of wifi or other very useful things. The book also seems to be written by the same people as Fawlty Towers based on its skew to complaining and conducting eloquent tantrum diatribes!

Anyway, hotel sorted, we moved car closer – blissfully to right outside the hotel – and hit the town to see the sights.

Being a Sunday, everything was closed, so we headed toward a big fort thing to see what we could see.

It turned out to be the Sao Francisco fortress, an 18th Century stronghold that was now one of the fanciest hotels in Portugal (or so its own signage said). At least this meant that the concierge spoke English, stocked tourist maps and was eager to guide us.

Map in hand, we trundled toward the cluster of “must see” sights of Chaves. It was another one of those where you can stand in a single spot and knock off the top 5 by pivoting – in this case 2 churches, a museum housed in a former palace, a castle and the square itself, home to City Hall and a statue of Alfonso I (the first Duke of Braganca) who founded here one of the first libraries in Europe.

From there we moved up into the Chaves Castle, so built in the 15th Century, with dungeons and walls still preserved, as well as a terraced garden setting decorated with Roman artifacts and columns, canons and stone canon balls. The view of the Chaves valley between the Mournos and Brunheiro Mountains was photo – worthy, but it was a shame that the locals had graffitied all over the canons and walls, peed in the look-outs, left cigarette butts and broken beer bottles everywhere, which marred the overall experience considerably.

The same theme continued through the Historical Centre, which was quite unpleasant and was such a shame, especially in such a sharp contrast with how respectfully a city like Leon had been maintained. It might be the distinctly political air in the town – such a sleepy hamlet with 6 or more political parties tustling for power with austere billboards and street pole ads and roving politicking by car with megaphones on the roof. Created a really intense atmosphere!

The last sight on our walking tour agenda was the Trajano Bridge, a structure built in 98AD, with 12 arches connecting the 104m from riverbank to riverbank. It was definitely the highlight of the town and they obviously put some effort into developing the area with waterfront cafés on the old city side and a park with walking and cycling paths on the far side. Since we weren’t yet ready for dinner, we took a half hour stroll around the park, but there really wasn’t much to see or do, so we retired to the Sky Bar café  for sundowners instead.

The local beers were both lagers, Superbock and Sagres, 5.5% alcohol which seemed all lot heavier than the Spanish beers we’d been drinking. They were also a lot bigger at what now seemed like a hefty 330ml. And, very disappointingly, not served with tapas. Maybe that explained the graffiti and general delinquencies…

It sure got our sense of humour twitching as Christian used our very useful phrasebook while we waited for our dinner to be served to plan his dialogue with the concierge on our return to the hotel…

Christian: Boa Noite (good evening)
Christian: A que hereoras e o pequeno (what time is breakfast)
Concierge: ??? (likely to be unfathomable)
Christian: Nao percebo (I don’t understand)
Christian: Fazia favior de falar com Double Room (please speak to Double Room)

Hehehehe.

We had a mixed bag for dinner, since the Abude Beerhouse has quite a varied pub style menu. We shared 3 items. A Pasteis Chaves meat pie in a crunchy phyllo pastry, not like the puff pastry at home and a tiny amount – although super tasty – savoury mincemeat filling. A Prego con queijo (prego with cheese) which turned out to be a steak sandwich garnished with ham (genius!) and cheese, no hot sauce or marinade like we’re used to (apparently that’s Mozambican). A Charrola bokwurst hotdog, garnished with cheese, ham (starting to see a pattern forming), bacon and tiny matchstick fries. All very good – and reassuring that our entire bill for beers and food was just over €10! Looked like Portugal was going to be very good at swinging the budget!

MONDAY

Monday morning saw the exciting reintroduction of fruit into our diet, with a banana each and a red apple between us at our (included) continental breakfast at Florinda. The main course was (quite obviously) Portuguese rolls with cream cheese, delicious local white cheese and succulent slices of Iberian ham. All served with a bottle of agua and an enormous jug of piping coffee and an equally enormous jug of hot milk.

Packed up and ready to go, with Porto in our sights!