I first visited Cartagena in 2010, when Mike, Greg and I took an Oceania cruise through the Panama Canal. I was immediately charmed by this fascinating city, and became determined to return to Cartagena and to explore more of Colombia.
For most of the ports, we opted to go off on our own, rather than take a cruise sponsored tour. That was the case in Cartagena, where we were able to cover most of the high points in the old city, during our too brief time in port.
Here is what the “new” section of Cartagena looked like in 2010.
Fast forward to 2025. Both photos were taken from the enormous fort the Spaniards built to protect the area from pirates. Can you tell which photo was taken with a camera, and which was taken with my iPhone?
It is possible to travel from the top of the fort to the bottom through narrow, low tunnels. When we visited in 2010, we attempted to do just that, but as we approached the exit, our guide discovered it was flooded, so we had to walk ALL the way back to the top. Poor Mike was unable to stand upright!
I know many people have strong opinions about cruises versus land travel. It was interesting to experience both in the same city. Although vastly different, I discovered I thoroughly enjoyed both, but for very different reasons. As with everything in life, both travel modes have advantages.
When we cruised, we always opted for a smaller ship, chosen for its fabulous itinerary. Cruising allowed us to unpack once, travel while we slept and awaken someplace great every single day. It provided us with a taste of many different areas, so we could determine which country we might want to explore in more depth in the future. And, if you happened to get sick, or have an accident, the ship had a fully equipped medical center on board. But your time in port is limited; you normally have to be back aboard the ship around 5PM, unless you chose a cruise that spent more than one night in a particular port. And there ain’t many of those.
For the OAT land trip, we spent three nights in Cartagena, which allowed us to slow down and savor our time there . We saw SOME of the areas we visited on our whirlwind day in 2010, like the former convent of the Sisters of the Poor Clares, but instead of just driving by it, Leslie ( another new friend) and I went to the bar to watch the sunset.
Those of you who read my pre-trip post may recall the special drinks and the tours of the former convent described on the hotel’s website. Well, although getting lost while searching for the rooftop bar allowed us to see a whole lot of the convent, it certainly didn’t qualify as a tour (they don’t give them any more), and although my pisco sour was delicious, it didn’t have what the website called “magical” properties.
What the rooftop bar DID have was a DJ, and lots of young people, staring at their phones.
So, we took our sunset photos, admired the view, and that pisco sour? It was consumed in a quiet, “historical” bar on the first floor.
The view of the ocean, and the only spot at the bar from which you can see the sunset.
Remember the popular image of Colombia as a dangerous place? Well, Leslie and I were perfectly comfortable walking the streets at night and when he noticed we were hopelessly lost, this sweet young Colombian approached us, offered help and walked us back to our hotel.
This was a very common experience: a waitress chased me down the street because I had left my hat in the restaurant, street vendors accepted your “no, gracias” when they approached you, but then engaged you in conversation so they could practice speaking English. Everyone we encountered was friendly, gracious and oh so welcoming.
As you have seen in my earlier posts, the streets of Colombia are very colorful , and Cartagena is no exception.
The woman in the black leather “bondage” outfit is Shakira, who has an apartment in Cartagena, overlooking the ocean. Our carriage driver pointed it out as we rode along the ocean on our way to our farewell dinner. He also claimed he was Shakira’s novio ( boyfriend— see, those Spanish lessons DID come in handy!)
Did you know that Colombia was the inspiration for Disney’s movie, Encanto? I sure didn’t.
Sorry, the sun was in the wrong spot when I took this photo. Anyone who saw the movie will recognize the cartoon character immortalized on the wall, but did you know her image was based on an actual resident of Colombia?
There was so much to see in the neighborhood of Getsemaní, I had difficulty choosing the most compelling street image, so I decided to include several.
During our trip we experienced MANY different modes of transportation- boats, metro system, cable cars, jeeps, tuk tuks and best of all, the PARTY bus,
which came fully equipped with live music, so we were serenaded all the way to Bocavilla, an African Colombian community located on the beach.
Our musicians played European, African and Caribbean instruments
While in Bocavilla, we had drumming and dance lessons which were SO much fun! The musicians and dancers were students at a school established to preserve their African/Caribbean culture.
Seven of us are at the airport heading off to Quito for a week in Ecuador, so it’s time to press publish and hope for the best.
Jean’s and my Alaskan adventure is off to a fantastic start. Our direct flight from Newark to Anchorage was exactly what we hoped it would be—uneventful. Best part: the seat between us was unoccupied, which, for an 8 hour flight is a real bonus.
We spent the night at the Historic Anchorage Hotel, chosen because of its proximity to the train station. When I asked the 30-something woman at the front desk for directions to the train station, she said “it’s either a short cab ride or an ARDUOUS walk to the train station and you need to be there an hour before your 6:45AM departure.” Well, the last thing Jean and I wanted at 5:45 AM was anything that could even remotely be described as arduous. That morning, when I spotted the taxi outside our hotel, I told the 60-something driver we wanted to go to the train station. She pointed to a building in the distance and said, “ There it is”. Talk about an “ah ha moment”! The young clerk looked at us and saw two feeble old ladies incapable of walking very far. The taxi driver, who was closer to our age, saw two competent, healthy women perfectly capable of handling our luggage the .4 mile (I googled it) between hotel and station. And we did. So there, young desk clerk!
And what a train ride it was. Absolutely spectacular! We opted for the gold dome service, which was $129 more expensive than the adventure class, but it was SO worth it.
Not only do you get an almost 360 degree view, you also get a fantastic sit down breakfast, with a choice of four entrees, and access to a viewing platform that allows you to take “glass-free” photos.
Who knew? Those innocent looking mud flats are actually quite dangerous. The volcanic soil acts like quicksand, then turns into a concrete- like substance, trapping the unwary.
We saw our first glacier on our train ride.
Yet another welcome surprise—the train and Viking coordinated delivery of our luggage, so we were able to walk from the train to the ship unimpeded.
Check in was a breeze. Viking allowed us to print a boarding pass before we left home, so we were aboard the ship in a matter of minutes.
We quickly made an early dinner reservation at the Chef’s Table, one of Viking’s two specialty restaurants, for our first night on board.
Maybe we shouldn’t have had that glass of Prosecco before dinner…
It is a 5 course, fixed menu with every entree paired with a complimentary wine. Obey, our waiter from Zimbabwe, described each course and explained that the accompanying wine heightens the dining experience.
I won’t bore you with too many food photos, but I HAD to show one example of how beautifully the courses are presented.
We had an early morning departure for Wednesday’s Kenai (pronounced KEEN-eye) Fiords cruise so we were in bed by 8 PM.
Most of Wednesday was overcast and chilly, but we didn’t mind because we were dressed appropriately.
We saw humpbacks and orcas,
sea lions, puffins, otters and bald eagles.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough to capture the whales breaching, but I got a lot of good tail shots.
Not everyone was as fascinated by the wildlife. While I was outside, trying to get the perfect shot, Jean photographed this woman taking what our Dutch table mates described as a “very expensive nap”. But she wasn’t the only entertaining Homo sapiens on the cruise.
We all loved watching this young man groovin to music only he could hear. What was he listening to, we all wanted to know. Beyoncé ( Jean asked…)
All in all, it was a tremendous first day.
We had heard about the Seward Mountain Marathon, so expected to see crowds of people after we got off the ship at 2 PM, but nope. We walked from the dock to the cruise terminal without seeing many people at all.
Thursday in Valdez, will be a “self guided” tour, so Jean and I decided to stay up late, to enjoy the fantastic music (and dance) on the deck, by the pool.
Initially, I expected to do one post for both Kanazawa and Kyoto. I had never heard of Kanazawa before, so hadn’t realized how much there was to see in that lovely little town. Everywhere I looked, there was something that was jaw dropping gorgeous.
It was raining off and on, but that minor inconvenience didn’t dampen our enjoyment of the beautiful Kenrokuen Gardens.
Although it was too early for Kanazawa’s cherry blossoms, the plum trees were a brilliant rosy pink, contrasting nicely against the gray skies.
We realized how lucky we were to view the gardens with such perfect lighting. A sunny day would have washed out the contrast.
How does it stay so pristine, you ask? Different cultures have different priorities. The Japanese value beauty, harmony, and cleanliness. Shared spaces are important to them. As you can see, their resources align with their values.
We are lucky that photography is one of Mori’s interests. He was always scouting out great locations for group photos.
One of the many things I love about our group is the way we all look out for each other. Notice how Mike and Bobbi are making sure Cathy doesn’t fall off the bridge. At least I think that’s what they were doing. Either that, or their attempt to push her into the water was unsuccessful.
For one of our “Kanazawa” days, we were given the option to visit Gokayama, which is about an hour’s drive away, up into the snowy mountains. The view was lovely and the gift shop was even lovelier, which is good news for the folks back home.
After visiting this village, we spent the rest of the day making ( and eating) mochi, learning how to make traditional Japanese paper, and watching a traditional dance.
I hope my exquisite creations survive the trip home.
The traditional dance performance was set in an authentic, historic Japanese house. Yes, I know that house had an intriguing history, however, it was so bloody cold in there, all I could think about was getting back on the bus. Sorry. You’re not getting any house history from me.
The traditional dance
Mori managed to find us fantastic restaurants everywhere we went, and Kanazawa was no exception. We liked shabu shabu so much, we were delighted to experience it again. This sweet TINY restaurant was quiet, beautiful, inexpensive, and best of all, the food was delicious.
Ruth, Renee, Janis and I had this little alcove all to ourselves.
That evening was an “on your own” dinner, so feeling adventurous, Kathleen and Cathy opted for a restaurant with a more esoteric menu.
Before leaving Kanazawa, we split into four groups to visit the home of a Japanese family, where we were treated to different activities, like calligraphy, and origami. Some groups sampled saki and tried on kimonos. The luckiest groups managed to do all of the above.
My group experienced the formal tea service at an authentic tea house. We entered the room the way the samourai did, crawling through a tiny space that we dubbed the “doggie door”.
Here’s Patsy, demonstrating the graceful way to enter the tea room. Like the Samourai, the door’s size forced her to leave all her weapons behind.
We had just enough time before we took the bullet train to Kyoto to visit the shrine a few blocks from our hotel. As usual, the paparazzi was stalking me as I strolled the park.
Photo by Bobbi
Some of the group went with Mori to visit the shrine the night we arrived. I was too exhausted, so I was glad that I had time for this early morning visit.
I’ll end with this photo of the Kanazawa train station. and if you think this station is beautiful, you ain’t see nothin yet! Just wait till my Kyoto post!
To acclimate us for the end of our leisurely float up the Nile, we used less luxurious modes of transportation to visit the town of Daraw. We’d been ferried across the Nile by small boats before, but this was our first time in the back of a pick up truck. The truck was covered, but there was such little headroom, I could barely sit upright. And no, that’s not a canvas top to the truck. It’s metal. If you’re wondering how I know, let’s just say there were more than a few bumps in the road.
You see all modes of transportation in Daraw: bikes, motorcycles, trucks, donkeys, tuk tuks, just about everything except cars.
Most OAT groups tour the livestock market, but because there are no markets on the day we were there, we visited the local entrepreneur. One of his many businesses is a “livestock hotel”. Hey, if you don’t sell all your animals on the first market day, you need someplace for them to stay, right?
Another of his businesses resembled a mini petting zoo, which we greatly enjoyed. I’d been warned that camels spit. After being taught a lesson by that rambunctious water buffalo a few days earlier, I kept my distance. Bobbie and I decided it was time to let others interact with the babies.
This camel bumped Jeanne in the head multiple timesThere was significant bonding between Bill and baby donkey. We expected him to start negotiating a purchase price.
Next stop, shopping—and eating—in the marketplace. Mohamed purchased Falafel for us to sample. We had just watched as the street vendor was making it. I don’t know that I would have been brave enough to eat food from a street vendor if I were on my own, but with Mohamed choosing the vendor, I felt perfectly safe.
It felt like we were on the Amazing Race when Mohamed instructed us to search for, and purchase, specific fruits and vegetables with the 20 Egyptian pounds, (about $.62 in US currency) he gave us. We were all so focused on our task, there were no photos of the adventure. I foolishly pointed at potatoes and waved my 20 pound note. Any idea how many potatoes that amount would buy? A whole lot. A whole HEAVY lot. Good thing I’ve been going to the Y.
Bobbie, on the other hand, was a smart shopper. She purchased the required peppers, but she negotiated skillfully enough to be able to buy bread for us all. It was delicious and still warm from the oven.
Our last stop before leaving our beloved dahabiya was “Nile Beach”, where are some of us were perfectly content to just stick our feet in the water. Others, namely, Marianne and John, were far more adventurous.
Look how clear the water in the Nile is! Marianne and John are going skiing after they leave us. Photo by Susan Burke
Our “farewell” dinner was even more spectacular than the other meals we’d enjoyed. We were sad to say goodbye to the crew that took such good care of us.
16 crew members for 9 passengers. Was the service outstanding? You bet!
We all got a surprise when we returned to our cabins. We each got a unique Egyptian creature waiting for us on our beds. I’ve seen towel art before, but these were, by far, the most creative. My favorites were the crocodile and the cobra. ( I got a scorpion).
Crocodile Cobra
How to describe the ride from Aswan to Abu Simbel? Three hours of sand, sand, and more sand with high tension wire strung along the roadside, delivering electricity from the dam to the populations further north. We needed to get closer to Abu Simbel for the landscape to change.
We stopped midway in our journey for a bathroom break. I think the term “food desert” was coined here. If it wasn’t, then it should have been. The “snack bar” could be best described as “selection-challenged”, but if you’re looking for potato chips, or packaged mystery snacks, you’ll be very happy.
Our group thought we’d seen so many temples and tombs, there was little left for us to see. Boy, were we wrong! The size of the 4 statues of Ramses 2’s temple ALONE was jaw dropping. But to think that this entire temple was MOVED block by block to the higher ground on which it currently stands, is truly hard to believe. Why is as that done? If it hadn’t been moved, it would now be well below the waters of Lake Nassar.
Back in the 60’s, 50 nations cooperated to rescue several temples threatened to be submerged by the creation of the High Dam at Aswan. To me, the engineering that went into the move was as awe inspiring as the temples.
But wait—there’s more to say about this temple. The ancient Egyptians were so knowledgeable about engineering and astronomy that in the 1200’s BC, they were able to construct this temple so that twice a year, on February 22 and October 22, the sun shone all the way through the temple to illuminate three of the four statues in the inner sanctum. The fourth statue is of Ptah, the god of the underworld, who was intentionally left in darkness. Two of the others represent different versions of Ra, the son god. Bet you can’t guess who was the last statue to be bathed in sunlight. None other than Ramses 2. Clearly he didn’t have a self esteem problem.
That black area falling across their laps is a shadow
Next to Ramses 2’s monument to himself, he built a temple honoring his favorite wife, Nefertari. Remember her? We visited her tomb in the Valley of the Queens.
That old goat lived well into his nineties, acquiring wives and children ( rumored to number approximately 200) along the way. Good thing he lived BEFORE viagra was invented! Of all his women, (thought to number about 100, if you include concubines and mistresses) Nefertari was his favorite—the only one who got her very own temple next to his. There is only one statue of her on the facade. The other five are, of course, of her husband, who was also known as “the Great” (probably self proclaimed).
That random guy standing in front of Nefertari gives you an idea of the scale of these statues.
We only spent one night at the beautiful Seti Hotel in Abu Simbel. Can you see why we were reluctant to leave? The multi-level pool had a swim up bar; each room had a private balcony facing the Nile. It was SO very peaceful.
Before we left for the light show at the temples, we met Hassan, who enlightened us about Nubian culture and history. He also entertained us by playing instruments that were the forerunners of our guitar, banjo and harp.
In 1976, when Hassan visited his cousin in San Francisco, he was invited to play with what he described as “ a small folk group” —the Grateful Dead.
Once again, you had to be there to appreciate how wonderful it was to be sitting under the stars, watching a multimedia show projected onto the temple walls. I didn’t take any shots while the show was ongoing, but did so after, and used that shot the heading for this post.
I truly appreciate everyone’s comments on my blog posts. It almost feels like I’m having a conversation with my friends. Although I know who comments on Facebook and Linked in, many of the comments on WordPress are coming through anonymously. If I didn’t respond to you, that’s why.
Thanks so much for the words of encouragement from all who commented on my last post, either here, on Facebook or on LinkedIn. It was great to hear from so many friends. I had no idea you were reading my blog, because unless someone comments, I don’t know who my audience is. Your very kind messages motivated me to continue writing about October’s trip.
Yugoslavia was once made up of 6 countries, and on my recent Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) trip, I visited four of them: Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia &Herzegovina and Slovenia. I tell you–we are SO very lucky to be able to travel in the USA for thousands of miles without ever having to show our passport. On this trip, we had multiple border crossings, and although our guides knew the tricks to make it as painless as possible (which crossing was less busy, what time is best to cross), it still was an inconvenience that I’m glad is not part of our daily lives.
After 7 of us finished the pre-trip to Albania, we drove through Montenegro to a parking lot by the border where our Albanian guide said goodbye, and Antonia, our guide for the main trip, greeted us (literally) with open arms. How lucky were we to get this dynamo for our tour leader! She was funny, creative, attentive, and so very joyous. She started out by giving us the good news that we were staying at a different hotel in Dubrovnik, a five star, because our original (4 star) hotel was still being renovated. As the millennials would say, “OMG”! The Valamar President Hotel was truly magnificent–right on the ocean, with spectacular views of the sunset. Here’s an example of one.
Scott and Gretta, two of my favorite fellow travelers. Scott had the foresight to bring a corkscrew and glasses on the bus so that we could enjoy the wine we bought along the way. It made those very long bus trips quite entertaining!
Prior to embarking on the trip, I had googled the original hotel’s location (I know, I’m obsessive/compulsive) and was slightly disappointed because it seemed quite far from the old city. I got over that disappointment real fast, because it was so easy to get to and from our new, improved hotel, (which happened to be in the same area as the original one). We were given a free pass, the buses ran frequently, and we got off right in front of our hotel. By the way, did I mention our hotel was magnificent?
When we arrived at the hotel, we were joined by the 9 remaining members of our group who opted not to take the pre-trip, including my dear friend Augusta.
One of Dubrovnik’s big attractions is walking along the city walls, which we did on our second day in the old town.
It isn’t obvious from this photo, but there was a lot of up and down along the wall, with very uneven steps. But don’t let the following photo dissuade you from exploring the ramparts. One of our fellow travelers, who is in her 80’s, managed to climb up and down without a problem. I found that truly inspiring–and very encouraging for someone who is hoping to be traveling well into HER 80’s. (In case you have’t guessed, that someone would be me).
That evening, dinner was “on our own”. Antonia walked us along a beautiful path that hugged the ocean which was lined with fantastic restaurants, telling us a little about each as we passed. When she said, “This one makes the best gin and tonics in all of Croatia”, Augusta and I knew we had found our place. What made it the best? Not only was the drink served in a beautiful glass, but the creation of it was something to behold. (click on the underlined words if you want to watch our waiter construct that masterpiece).
Dinner by the sea was delightful, and the Croatian sunsets were consistently magnificent.
But the most memorable part of our time in Croatia was the talk given by a woman who had lived in Dubrovnik during the Balkan war. At that time, she was in her early 20’s. Overnight, her life changed. She had been a carefree young woman until, after a night on the town with friends, she was awakened by the sound of bombs dropping. One might expect her talk to have been depressing. It was not. It was actually an inspiring story about the resilience of the Croatian people as they learned how to survive for three months without water and electricity. She told us she quickly learned what was really important, and it wasn’t money. ”What good was it to have money, if there was nothing you could buy”, she asked.
Photo by Mark Burgunder Sr.
Her talk took place in what was once Napoleon’s fort, and is now a museum housing memorabilia and information about the Serbian and Montenegrin attacks on Dubrovnik, a World Heritage site.
In case you’re wondering about the picture of the soldier on her right, that’s Orlando. His statue currently is located in the main square, where in days of old, decrees were read and citizens would gather to be entertained by watching the bad guys get their just punishment. (Don’t judge–they didn’t have TV or the internet back then).
This is what Orlando looks like now. It’s hard to see him, or his all important elbow, because there is a protective barrier surrounding the statue. At some point, he will be removed to have the statue version of a spa treatment, and will be returned, thoroughly restored and rejuvenated..
So who was he, and why did I mention his elbow? Well, legend has it that Orlando was a nephew of Charlemagne. Perhaps you know him by his alias, Roland? More importantly, his right arm, from fingertip to elbow, was used to measure fabric, which was traded in that very square. Why his forearm? I have no idea. It certainly makes as much sense as the inches, feet and yards WE use. By the way, there are only three non-metric countries on this planet: the USA, Liberia and Myanmar (so we are in good company, indeed). Saturday Night Live did a hilarious skit about our use of the “imperial” system. But I digress…
Our return to Dubrovnik’s center via the tram gave us this phenomenal view. By the time we made it to town, however, I had seen enough of the walled city and was more than ready to return to relax on our hotel’s private beach. Little secret: it’s hot in town, and crowded, so I was grateful for free time, my bus ticket and my luxurious hotel.
It may be difficult to see on the map atop this post, but Croatia is rather oddly shaped. The non-French say it is shaped like a bird in flight. To the French it looks like a croissant. To me, it resembles a gerrymandered voting district. Can you see that little gap that gives Bosnia & Herzegovina access to the ocean? Because of that gap, someone traveling just a few miles north from Dubrovnik could be subject to TWO border crossings: leaving Croatia to enter Bosnia, then again when reentering Croatia, and it would happen again when they did their return trip.
While in Dubrovnik, we took a day trip to lovely Kotor, Montenegro, then headed for three nights in Sarajevo, Bosnia, after which we returned to Croatia for 6 more days before heading to Slovenia, for three nights, then heading home. Got that? I don’t have the energy to fit all of that into one post, and you probably wouldn’t want to read one that long anyway, so this post only focuses on Croatia and Montenegro.
Our day trip to Kotor started with a breathtakingly beautiful ride on our private boat. I think it was during that ride that someone dubbed Antonia “the child with power”.
Kotor is a lovely medieval city with palaces, restaurants, gift shops, and like other medieval towns, it had its share of stories and legends, which I promptly forgot. What I didn’t forget was the women we encountered, holding the banner that says “We remember the Morinj camp”, which is where Croatian prisoners were held in deplorable conditions from 1991 until 1992. The banners act as an acknowledgement and an apology for Montenegro’s role in the Balkan War. I found that rather refreshing.
Are you ready for a break from war talk? Instead, let me tell you about Karanic, the Croatian village we visited on our way to Zagreb. OAT trips usually include”a day in the life” of the country’s inhabitants, but this was the first time the “day in the life” included an overnight stay. These encounters are designed to provide an opportunity to see non-tourist areas and get exposure to different aspects of the local culture.
Our group, at Karanic, with Dennis, our host.
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but our accommodations exceeded anything I could imagine. The home had sufficient rooms for us all, each with a private bath (whew).
The food was delicious. Some of us helped with the cooking–others captured the moments via cell phone photography.
Karanac was a nice interlude before our stay in Zagreb. When we arrived at our hotel, we noticed it was filled with men wearing team shirts. Unbeknownst to me, we were sharing the lobby with the 2018 World Cup champion football team. This became apparent when we passed a building that was plastered with a photo of the guys we had just seen in the lobby. If only I were a sports fan…
Zagreb had experienced an earthquake in 2020, so some of the buildings were still being repaired. Still, as you can see, the city offers something for everyone. I can’t offer commentary on these attractions, because I didn’t sample any of them.
What I CAN tell you is the Bornstein Winery is not to be missed. It was educational, delicious, and oh so much fun! Six of us visited there during our free time. Who knew that a Croatian immigrant took zinfandel vines to California many years ago?
There is a whole lot more I can say about Croatia, and the other countries on this fabulous trip. Maybe someday I will, but right now, it’s time to prepare for the next adventure. I hope you’ll come along!
I spent the majority of my first full day in Tirana walking around the city, exploring two of the attractions recommended in my OAT Final Documents booklet. First stop was at the Komiteti-Kafe Museum for an “American coffee” and a look at what was described as Soviet Era artifacts. I don’t know whether what I found qualified as Soviet “stuff”. It appeared much too whimsical and colorful, two adjectives that I suspect were never used to describe the USSR.
I probably wouldn’t put the coffee shop on a list of top attractions, but the walk getting there and back was fun. Tirana has lots of green space, bike lanes and pedestrian walkways— and I do love to explore on foot.
I had to get closer to the beautiful mosque appearing in the distance. A gift from the Turkish government, it is, and will remain, closed until Erdogan arrives for a dedication ceremony.
Man oh man, Tirana is BOOMING! Lots of new construction everywhere. During the ride from the airport, I noticed the very drab, but functional architecture, presumably from the Soviet era. The current construction is colorful, joyous and oh, so interesting!
I had no idea what this building would become until our tour on my second day with our pre-trip guide. Ilir took us along a different street. He told us the colored squares will become classrooms in this future digital center.
It is difficult to see the pyramid behind the trees. If you’d like a better view and a history of the pyramid, click here. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pyramid_of_Tirana. The steps were added to allow people to safely climb to the top. Previously they were clambering up the smooth sides, then sliding down!
One advantage to being on your own is you can stop to take photos whenever you like, and I liked to do that a lot. I loved this bridge. While on it, you have access to free wi-fi, which I didn’t need because I had switched to TMobile. Unlike Verizon, international access is free for everything except voice calls. (Thanks to the Facebook page “Friends of OAT” for educating me about internet access outside of the USA). Knowing I could consult google maps whenever I wanted enabled me to wander freely without fear of getting lost.
As I made my way to the Sali Shijaku House (OAT’s other recommendation), I walked thru Tirana’s Castle, which was taken over by the Topani family in 1798. I had seen the Topani name everywhere, most prominently at the nearby mall entrance, and wondered what the word meant. A plaque before the castle explained that Topani is the name of a noble family “rich and educated with strong ties to the Ottoman Empire and the west which they used to help the country while it took the independence road.” The plaque goes on to explain the rivalry between the Topanis and the Barginis which was ultimately resolved by intermarriage. Just think, if the Montagues and Capulets had used intermarriage to resolve their disputes Shakespeare wouldn’t have had material for Romeo and Juliet.
Not much remains of the original castle structure other than these walls and something called a “Bailey”. (You won’t see a photo of the Bailey because I have no idea what it is). Walking thru that arch brings you to a walkway with lovely shops and an abundance of restaurants, one of which I chose for lunch.
I had a wonderful inexpensive lunch with a glass of sparkling wine at this restaurant.
But back to the home of the artist Sali Shijaku, my second destination. After exploring his residence, which is filled with his paintings, I sat in the garden and enjoyed the ambiance while sipping a cup of tea. It’s hard to believe that over the years, this 300 year old structure has been a hospital, women’s prison and military building.
Some other sights from my walk thru Tirana:
Topani Mall across from our hotel. Although not colorful, this building’s three dimensional structure appealed to me. The new building towers over the old church tower.
After exploring, I returned to the hotel to meet 4 of my traveling companions. After a brief walk with our guide, we got to know each other over dinner at Roxana Tuna House. As is often the case on OAT trips, they are all friendly and so very interesting. That’s another reason I enjoy traveling with OAT—congenial companions. We will meet the last couple tomorrow because they encountered flight delays.
Time to stop babbling about this wonderful city and get some rest.
2020 was supposed to be Mike’s and my biggest travel year ever. It feels like a lifetime ago that we booked trips to Croatia, Germany, Japan and Egypt. We (more likely the optimist of this twosome) were so confident that covid would be over in several months that we didn’t take a cash refund. Instead we opted for travel credits with bonus incentives.
Fast forward three and a half years. I’m now working my way through those credits, beginning with this trip to Eastern Europe, which starts with OAT’s pre-trip to Tirana, Albania.
One of the many reasons I enjoy traveling with Overseas Adventure Travel (OAT) is the ability to customize my trip. I figure if I’m going to subject my body and my money to a cross Atlantic flight, I’m going to stay for as long as I can, so in addition to the pre-trip, I decided to fly in a day early to get acclimated.
So far, everything has gone smoothly, starting with a great experience on Austrian Air. Passport control at Tirana’s airport was incredibly efficient. You scan your passport, which opens a gate, then get your picture taken, which opens a second gate and you’re DONE. It was so FAST. But the time I gained at passport control, I lost in bumper to bumper traffic on the way to the Oxford hotel. It took over an hour to go 11 miles, making me feel like I was back in Houston, Texas. The timing actually worked out fine, because by the time I got to the hotel, I only had to wait about 10 minutes for my room to be ready.
The room is small, but lovely, with a shower that makes the standard size in cruises look huge by comparison. I suspect I’ll be missing Mike even more than usual tomorrow morning, because when we traveled, he always showered first, figuring out how the fixtures worked, and setting the temperature just right for me. (It’s always those little things that do you in when you lose your spouse).
Take a look—no need for a bidet in this bathroom. All you have to do is swivel and lift your butt. That is, if you can figure out which faucet turns on which of the two shower heads. Yes, tomorrow will indeed be interesting because there’s not a lot of room for error. Fortunately we learned the ‘towel on the shower floor’ trick because I’ll bet that marble makes the floor extremely slippery when wet! I just hope that floor drain isn’t clogged!
But enough bathroom humor. What about the town, you ask? I remember Laura, our guide in Patagonia telling us, “There’s no such thing as bad weather; only inappropriate clothing choices.” Fortunately, I packed appropriately, and checked the weather so I wasn’t daunted by the rain. It also helps that the Oxford is perfectly located—right across from a mall ( where I bought 3 liters of water for less than $1), close to ATMS, cafes and restaurants, squares and sights. I love the art on the sides of buildings.
Wonder which of these books would be banned in America? This is a very strange image. What is the artist trying to say?
I was surprised that George W Bush had a major street named after him in Tirana. I recall the people in Africa revered him because of his involvement during the AIDS crisis. But Albania? Clearly he has his admirers—and some detractors— who covered his name with stickers.
Tirana is full of surprises—here’s another: The Italian Institute of Culture building. I know from experience that Albanians make fantastic Italian food. My favorite Italian restaurant is run by Albanians. Clearly there is a bond between those two countries that I will explore with my guide when I meet him tomorrow.
What’s with that zig-zaggy structure in front of the building? Is it a picnic table? A runway? An altar for sacrificing virgins?
This area was once part of the Ottoman Empire, so I was not surprised when I passed a mosque just in time for the call to prayer. If you want to check out the weather and share in the mosque experience, here’s the YouTube link. I wasn’t successful uploading the video to WordPress. Maybe this will work. https://youtube.com/shorts/RXIjSq3ElqM?si=BxfwMJnXN6hBMHFd
On the MAIN trip, which starts on Sunday, we will travel to Croatia, Montenegro, Bosnia & Herzegovina, ending up in Slovenia. My friend Augusta will be joining me in Dubrovnik for the main trip. She frequently traveled with Mike and me in the past, prompting one of our fellow travelers to dub Mike “the man who travels with two wives”.
Below is a visual of our journey through some of the former Yugoslavian countries.
Tomorrow or Wednesday, I will connect with the 6 travelers that opted for the pre-trip, then on Sunday, we will join with the remaining 9 travelers in our group of 16.
On our return to the Republic of Ireland, we made one last stop in Northern Ireland, to the walled city of Derry, where we visited the Museum of Free Derry for a history lesson.
On January 30,1972, inspired by the civil rights marches and peace protests that occurred in the USA, about 15,000 Catholics staged a march to call attention to the discrimination they were experiencing. British soldiers shot indiscriminately into the crowd, killing 14 unarmed protesters. The day after what became known as Bloody Sunday, 2,000 men joined the IRA, which up until that time had not been very active.
Although attempts were made to portray the peaceful marchers as terrorists, a film crew was there, recorded what actually happened, and smuggled the film out (in their underwear!) to the Republic of Ireland where it was broadcast around the world. Despite the visual evidence to the contrary, the false narrative that some march participants were terrorists persisted until 2016, when an inquiry finally revealed the truth. The result was a long overdue apology by Britain’s prime minister, David Cameron. An excellent video in the Museum shows the huge emotional impact that historic apology had on the people of Derry. Sadly, the guilty soldiers still have not been brought to justice.
While on the Black Cab tour in Belfast, our driver showed us the size of rubber bullets that were used for crowd control. These were fired on Bloody Sunday, and contributed to the injuries many protestors suffered. Can you imagine being hit by one of these?
We couldn’t leave Derry without touring its city walls, and learning about its history, most of which I promptly forgot. Of course, the wall had the requisite cannons, strategically interspersed.
Our border crossing into the Republic of Ireland was seamless. No check points, no guards, no showing of passports, just a change of currency, back to the Euro. Ireland has sworn that it will never have a border dividing it again. Boris Johnson declared the Irish Sea will be the border, but many wonder exactly how that will work post Brexit. No one quite knows.
And now for a little perspective: the population of Northern Ireland is a wee bit under 2 million. The population of The Republic of Ireland is almost 5 million. Compare that to the population on NYC, which is over 8 million, and you can understand why much of this glorious island is comprised of rolling green hills and picturesque landscapes, perfect for raising sheep.
Typical view from my bus window.
Which brings me to the next subject: the Irish Diaspora. We all know that millions of Irish left during the potato famine, but I never knew that many lost their homes when they were evicted.
This beautiful castle was built by John Adair, who evicted 244 of his Irish tenants because he thought raising sheep would be more profitable than allowing his tenants to continue farming. By the way, the Irish became tenants on their own land, after Oliver Cromwell conquered them, and seized their property so he could use the land as payment to his soldiers.
Adair was the first of three owners of Glenveagh. The third, Henry McIlhenny, was an Irish American. His grandfather, John McIlhenny settled in Philadelphia, where he became very wealthy from his invention—the coin operated gas meter. Henry was an art aficionado, who donated his family’s extensive collection to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. His generosity extended to Ireland, when he donated the castle and its gardens as a gift to the nation. It is now a national park.
Touring the grounds of Glenveagh with a naturalist, who demonstrated the depth of the bogs, and explained why the people sacrificed in the bogs were so well preserved.
I had originally planned to write a bit about Donegal, but that will have to wait for a future post, because I have run out of time.
We’ve thoroughly enjoyed our time in this island’s two capitols: Dublin and Belfast. But now it’s time for a change of pace, so we hit the road to experience the castles and cliffs of the beautiful Irish countryside.
We departed from Belfast by way of the “leafy suburbs”. As is the case in most countries, the wealthier areas were spared the violence and disruption of “the troubles” discussed in earlier posts. The beautiful homes facing the water were much like those in many of the wealthier neighborhoods in the USA.
At one time, oh so many years ago, I could never have imagined that I’d be taking a bus tour. But let me tell you, at this stage in my life, it’s a great way to travel. No getting lost, no speeding tickets, no fruitless searches for rest rooms. It’s all taken care of. All I have to do is sit back, gaze out the window and chat with my fellow travelers.
Our group
We really lucked out, with a huge, comfortable bus for only 11 of us, and a delightful driver, Michael, who clearly loves his job. The repartee between Joe and Michael keeps all of us entertained and laughing.
Our drive to Ballycastle was broken up with multiple stops. At the first one, Joe, our guide, pointed out that this white rock is composed of the exact same material as the White Cliffs of Dover. About 350 million years ago, this very rock was being formed somewhere south of the equator. I don’t know about you, but I find that little fact fascinating. I’m sure my geologist neighbor, Ed, would agree. He would undoubtedly have been able to identify the dark streaks in the rock as flint, which was highly prized for its sharpness, and its fire making properties.
Our route along the Antrim coast took us past picturesque little fishing villages like this one.
I loved that the windows of this vacant building were painted to look like they were festooned with flower boxes.
Our final stop before Ballycastle was at the Glenariff Forest Park, which gave us the opportunity to get out of the bus and stroll along the river to our restaurant.
One of the waterfalls in Glenariff Forest
Ballycastle’s Marine Hotel was a bit quirky, but the entire staff was so friendly and accommodating, and the location across from the beach was fantastic.
Because the weather was so wonderful, we couldn’t resist a walk along the beach, before we strolled into town for a delicious and inexpensive dinner at the Anzac Restaurant.
Ballycastle was the perfect jumping off point for the following day’s excursions to Dunluce Castle and The Giants Causeway. Although Dunluce Castle is in ruins, you get a feel for what life was like way back in the 1600’s. The castle was built high on a cliff, surrounded by water, with access only via a drawbridge. Clearly, those were scary times!
Joe quickly figured out that Janet and I are the walkers in this group, so he always made sure to tell us about more challenging hikes. The Giant’s Causeway offers several trails, plus a shuttle bus for those who prefer to ride. We chose the red course, labeled the most difficult, because of the spectacular views Joe promised us. He was right!
Even if you do opt for the easier trail, the scenery is still pretty dramatic, especially if you are intrigued by rocks, volcanic activity and ocean views.
Our last stop in Northern Ireland will be Derry —or Londonderry, if you are aligned with the British, or the Protestants, before heading back into the Republic of Ireland and to our hotel in Donegal.
We left the Republic of Ireland, crossing into Northern Ireland two days ago, just in time to get our first experience with legendary Irish weather. Our walking tour was soggy, and although we were undaunted, we were grateful when our Tour Leader took us on a quick detour into the nearby mall. Not only did we get a chance to dry off, we also ascended to the mall’s top floor to take in this magnificent view.
Okay, so maybe THAT day’s view wasn’t all that magnificent, but you have to admit, it is pretty cool to have a glass dome atop a shopping mall. The next day’s panoramic view was significantly better because we were higher up, and the weather cooperated.
This photo was taken from the Grand Central Hotel’s cocktail lounge. No, we didn’t have a drink there, because I suspect the cost of a cocktail would have been as much as our full dinner at a nearby pub. Joe, our tour leader, took us there for a “ gawk”, and that’s exactly what we did.
Although the city is lovely, and I have many photos to prove that, the real highlight of our time in Belfast was our visit to The Felon’s Club. We spent the morning with three men who, back in the day, were formerly enemies: a loyalist, a British soldier, and an IRA member. They each told us a little about themselves, their backgrounds, their activities during “the troubles”, their time in prison and what their lives are like today. It was a riveting discussion that was particularly relevant now, given the divisiveness we are currently experiencing in our own country. What was encouraging was where they are NOW. All three have been working toward reconciliation and educating others about “the troubles”. All three are committed to the peace process.
I had forgotten the important role George Mitchell and Bill Clinton played during peace negotiations. One key element of the negotiations was a referendum (with no date specified) on whether or not Ireland should be reunited. When asked if the referendum were held today, only the former member of the IRA was able to say for sure how he would vote. The other two wanted to know more about the impact the change would have on their lives. Their focus was on the issues, not on former identities as a member of a particular group. I would have loved to spend more time with them, but our Black Cab Tour was scheduled, so off we went to view the murals painted on Belfast’s walls.
During our tour, the final song from the Broadway musical “Hamilton” kept playing in my head: “Who lives, who dies, who tells our story”.
In the photo below, our cab driver is holding a rubber bullet, to show us how huge they were. He then pointed out the names of civilians, carved into the wall, who died after being hit by rubber bullets. By telling their stories, the black cab drivers and the members of the Felons Club are keeping their memories alive.
The afternoon was spent at the Titanic Museum, an experiential museum, where another sad story was told—not only about those who went down with the ship. We also learned about the workers who built the ship.
It was a rather poignant day, so we were only too glad the sun was shining as we walked back to our hotel.
We are all quite happy that we were leaving Belfast BEFORE King Charles III arrived. Yes, I know it is a historic event, but the crowds and traffic might have made it difficult to see as much as we did.
Destination NOW 