Saturday, February 08, 2014
Christmas Travels 2013/14
It's Christmas and I have to get aboard the famous sledge and get as far away as possible, somewhere, anywhere. Ah, but where?
Of course, Christmas is not the best time to travel. It's cold, unless you go down south to Argentina or Australia, and there's also a lot of days where everything, and everywhere, is shut. But nevertheless, luck left me a few treats at the bottom of the stocking - I found a lovely town called Bastia, a Cretan writer called Nikos, stayed in the middle of a medieval walled town and walked along the famous Corniche in Lebanon.
Of course, Christmas is not the best time to travel. It's cold, unless you go down south to Argentina or Australia, and there's also a lot of days where everything, and everywhere, is shut. But nevertheless, luck left me a few treats at the bottom of the stocking - I found a lovely town called Bastia, a Cretan writer called Nikos, stayed in the middle of a medieval walled town and walked along the famous Corniche in Lebanon.
And like Santa I did a lot of flying, got completely lost a couple of times, slept in ten different bedrooms - no, all of them hotels - queued in the same number of airports, sailed on a couple of boats, spend 7 hours on a train, well two trains, and enjoyed, if that's the word, fourteen flights.
The basic itinerary was a quick Xmas visit to the UK, then off to Pisa and an overnight stay in Livorno. A boat to Bastia in Corsica and back again and then off to Cagliari in Sardinia. Next it was Crete via Rome airport and then Rhodes via Athens and lastly Beirut via Istanbul. Yes, a bit intense and, unlike last Christmas, there was a lot of rain and places closed because of the holidays and yes, it could have done with a bit more planning.
So, first the highlights. The first is Bastia (right) the capital of Corsica. A bit of a surprise but I fell in love with the place. Well, it was the first real stop so maybe that was the reason. All I had expected to find was a dreary little port. But no, it's a pretty French town with loads of smart little bars and lots of life. I had a good hotel just 5 minutes walk from the boat and the very friendly French staff seemed symptomatic of the place and it was surrounded by open-air cafes and bars everywhere you looked.
Corsica, of course, is the birthplace of Napoleon in 1769 so I planned to take the train over the island to Ajaccio where he was born. Prices were a bit steep at 32 euros return but you do get 7 (seven) hours of travel for your money although that means that you only enjoy a couple of hrs at Ajaccio. There's over 20 stops and it's more like a bus than a train with request stops and with the conductor chatting to everyone.
Second highlight was Rhodes Old Town. It's getting a bit off a habit arriving in a strange place late on Dec 31st and this year was no exception. Dropped by the airport bus at the Terminal - a fading, dotted line on the street - it did for a moment remind me of my dilemma in Crete 5 days previous but this time I didn't even have an hotel address, only a phone number. At least this served to focus my efforts on finding a phone box. Not too difficult, but they all required a phone card.
Luckily, there was no rain, yet, and the shops were still open at 19.30 and I was soon clinging onto the back of my host, Anne, as she took me on the short trip into the Old Town on the back of her scooter. A crazy ride through a maze of narrow and darkening alleys. Definitely one of the trip highlights.
Luckily, there was no rain, yet, and the shops were still open at 19.30 and I was soon clinging onto the back of my host, Anne, as she took me on the short trip into the Old Town on the back of her scooter. A crazy ride through a maze of narrow and darkening alleys. Definitely one of the trip highlights.
As you can see the Old Town is what is says. It's a series of very narrow lanes that all look exactly the same, where a compass is of more use than a map. My little apartment was in an alleyway half the size of this one and didn't appear to have any name or number in fact. And when I asked for the key, the owner Anne replied "Oh, you won't need a key, nobody ever steals things here."
No thieving perhaps, but there have been some bloody battles on this very spot. The town was the headquarters of the Knights of St John and was besieged for several months by the Turks in 1522. The result was a draw but the Knights were forced to leave a ruined and undefendable castle and move on to Malta. Well, it's now been restored and the walls surround the old town. A walk around the walls in the waterless, wide moat is to take a step back into the past. Do it on your own as the sun is fading and you can almost hear the noise of battle and the cries of the dying...
So on to Beirut. Or is it Florida? This is a picture of the St. Georges Bay complex on a quiet day but in January it's jam packed full of enormous yachts. Unlike Bastia, Caglairi, Heraklion and Rhodes there's no sign of cute little fishing boats here and the only fishing is done by hook and line on the Corniche.
And the whole place is full of polite, friendly people, most of whom speak English, and I had a very good hotel with balcony for
only 60E a night right in the middle of town. All around there were trendy little cafes and eating places all with menus in English, of course. And there's loads of nice bars with music all with outdoor terraces and full even in January.
AS for the people there's a strange mix of dress with both Christians and Muslims living almost side-by-side.
And because the French were there some time ago it has an old French feel about it with street names in French but there's also bookshops full of English books. And, of course, everyone speaks English and even joke with you in English. I really liked the place - OK, there's a few bombs going off in the south so you simply avoid those areas.
My biggest problem was self-induced. My confusion in arriving in Heraklion, Crete stemmed from me having the impression that the airport bus would stop at the city bus terminus. Well, no, this wasn't the case but thanks to a helpful passenger I was dropped in the very centre of town amidst a crazy world of shops, people and noise. I've never seen so many people. At this point, and I can fully understand it, Paloma or any other sensible person would have got rid of their confusion by simply asking someone where was the nearest taxi but then why had I spent ages finding hotels in convenient places only to get help to find them? Little did I know that my hotel was only 5 mins away.
So not knowing where I was I set out on a mad, ridiculous and very long walk to find the missing bus terminal because from there I was convinced I could easily find my hotel. Of course, it was all a silly waste of time for the bus terminal no longer, if ever, had buses going to, or from, the airport so I ended up off the town map, god only knows where. And then it started to rain, heavily.....And then some more until every junction that I had to cross to get back to civilisation was a river flowing down to the sea. I got truly soaked.
But despite my determination to waste an entire evening, help was at hand, as I had spotted a nice looking hotel on the way out of town. And there it was again, an oasis in the teaming rain. And not only did they have a room but a very nice restaurant on the top floor serving excellent food until midnight.
So not knowing where I was I set out on a mad, ridiculous and very long walk to find the missing bus terminal because from there I was convinced I could easily find my hotel. Of course, it was all a silly waste of time for the bus terminal no longer, if ever, had buses going to, or from, the airport so I ended up off the town map, god only knows where. And then it started to rain, heavily.....And then some more until every junction that I had to cross to get back to civilisation was a river flowing down to the sea. I got truly soaked.
But despite my determination to waste an entire evening, help was at hand, as I had spotted a nice looking hotel on the way out of town. And there it was again, an oasis in the teaming rain. And not only did they have a room but a very nice restaurant on the top floor serving excellent food until midnight.
Yes, at least once that I know off by the young barman in a cafeteria in the middle of Pisa. It was late and raining and I wanted a quiet place for a coffee and something quick to eat before bed. A pleasant smile and a delicious Panini with goats cheese and tomato and a cappuccino brought to my table were the bait that lured me to my fate. The whole conversation from his side was conducted in English so no-one in the bar could guess his intentions and when I asked "how much" the 10 Euros reply failed to register properly. The deliciously toasted Panini with goats cheese and tomato had somehow rid me of any capacity to complain at so blatant a robbery.
I checked the bill; two lines of "Various 5 Euros". When a cappuccino in nearby Livorno in a similar cafeteria was 1.70E and a Panini, even toasted with goats cheese is normally 2.50E. May all your problems be big ones, Guiseppe.
A short walk from my hotel near the airport in the suburbs of Istanbul I happened across a supermarket. Nothing strange there but, in the gathering darkness, the brilliance of the colours in the front of the store was truly eye-catching. It shone like an Aladdin's cave with reds, yellows and greens and the wonder didn't diminish as you got closer because the size of the fruit and vegetables was astonishing. Radishes the size of oranges, huge pumpkins bigger than footballs, onions as big as my fathers fist, enormous cabbages. Clearly another reason why we can't allow Turkey into the EU; always assuming that they admitted the truth about the Armenians....
And again in Turkey - It's very revealing how fast airports change. They are obviously a big money-spinner and Istanbul Airport is no exception. I was there five years ago and its changed so much I couldn't recognise a thing. And it's very nice, the best I visited, and with wonderful yogurt with fruit sold in a small cafe.
Well,
there was the very pretty Miss Senegal in Corsica, (no, not the reason I
liked the town), then I met two Spanish ladies over breakfast in my B&B in Pisa - from Plaza Castilla, Madrid no less. They wanted to get away from the
family at Christmas so they were off to Florence and Siena by hire car.
Then there was Fausto, the owner of the B&B in Cagliari who always, judging from the Comments Book, chats at great length to everyone over breakfast. And then there was the very pleasant Anne from Denmark living in Rhodes for decades with her very polite teenage son.
And lastly there was Majid, the friendly taxi driver in Beirut who was so keen on my fare (clearly, not a lot of people need a taxi at the airport in January), that he waited while I had a coffee. And then in his eagerness to get going he wrenched up by case so sharply that he snapped off the last remaining handle. His mates all joked "Free fare, Majid" or words to that effect in Arabic. But its obviously happened before as he didn't seem to worry too much and I was so excited at arriving in this strange place that I soon forgot all about it. As with most taxi-drivers, Majid was very friendly and after we had exchanged life stories during 25 minutes we parted with a warm embrace like two lost friends....
Then there was Fausto, the owner of the B&B in Cagliari who always, judging from the Comments Book, chats at great length to everyone over breakfast. And then there was the very pleasant Anne from Denmark living in Rhodes for decades with her very polite teenage son.
And lastly there was Majid, the friendly taxi driver in Beirut who was so keen on my fare (clearly, not a lot of people need a taxi at the airport in January), that he waited while I had a coffee. And then in his eagerness to get going he wrenched up by case so sharply that he snapped off the last remaining handle. His mates all joked "Free fare, Majid" or words to that effect in Arabic. But its obviously happened before as he didn't seem to worry too much and I was so excited at arriving in this strange place that I soon forgot all about it. As with most taxi-drivers, Majid was very friendly and after we had exchanged life stories during 25 minutes we parted with a warm embrace like two lost friends....
For me there's always a book behind the best travels and this time it was one I found in Heraklion, Crete. High up on the wall of my hotel was written in large letters "I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free" Nikos Kazantzakis. So who is he? Turns out he is a famous Cretan philosopher and wrote "Zorba the Greek" and is the nearest thing to a Cretan Legend. His "The Last Temptation of Christ" was/is banned by the Catholic church, always a good sign. The following day, and there in the bookshop was his masterpiece, "Freedom and Death". A cracking epic of 450 pages detailing the struggle in Crete to get rid of the Ottoman Turks that occupied Crete for 200 hundred years. So, after seeing the same thing immortalised in both Bulgaria and mainland Greece in the summer, yet another country that has had to fight for its life. Another sign of how lucky we have been in England.
And I've figured out something else. I used to find myself sitting in some out of the way places and wonder what the hell I was doing there, but I don't any more. I'm seeing so many new things in my six or so weeks travelling a year that it doesn't feel strange or unusual anymore to be in a new place. In fact, it seems quite natural now to look around me and see another new and strange environment. It never bores me, how could it, in a couple of days I'm moving on?
So I fill my eyes with new sights and store the memories in my head and I visit the usual churches, museums and famous sights but I don't see too many that I get bored. A history of a city or country is very important to know as you pass through but there are better ways of learning it than in a museum. So I wander about, sometimes aimlessly, almost determined to get lost until I've had my fill and then I stop and have a beer or a coffee. And what better way of meeting more new people or watching how they behave. Nowadays there are so many similarities in dress, cars, mobiles, life styles but each place, with its different history, customs, politics and climate makes people behave differently.
And when you belong to a couple then maybe you can afford to ignore the rest of the world but when you are not then it makes you appreciate the rest of the world more. So to meet another soul, living and struggling in the same era as you, that's really the most important thing..
And I've figured out something else. I used to find myself sitting in some out of the way places and wonder what the hell I was doing there, but I don't any more. I'm seeing so many new things in my six or so weeks travelling a year that it doesn't feel strange or unusual anymore to be in a new place. In fact, it seems quite natural now to look around me and see another new and strange environment. It never bores me, how could it, in a couple of days I'm moving on?
So I fill my eyes with new sights and store the memories in my head and I visit the usual churches, museums and famous sights but I don't see too many that I get bored. A history of a city or country is very important to know as you pass through but there are better ways of learning it than in a museum. So I wander about, sometimes aimlessly, almost determined to get lost until I've had my fill and then I stop and have a beer or a coffee. And what better way of meeting more new people or watching how they behave. Nowadays there are so many similarities in dress, cars, mobiles, life styles but each place, with its different history, customs, politics and climate makes people behave differently.
And when you belong to a couple then maybe you can afford to ignore the rest of the world but when you are not then it makes you appreciate the rest of the world more. So to meet another soul, living and struggling in the same era as you, that's really the most important thing..
