Biking around Konavle

We woke to another absolute scorcher. Marko, one of our guides from yesterday's kayaking, met us outside the Pile Gate for our biking and wine tasting tour. Once the other Scottish couple arrived, we hopped in the Adventure Dubrovnik van, for Gruda, the muncipal capital of the Konavle region.

The equipment -- really nice stuff, too -- was stored in a shipping container on the grounds of the nearby Dubrovački Podrumi winery. The 8 km circuit would bring us back there for the tasting. We enjoyed their award-winning Ragusa white so much, we decided to buy a bottle; only then did we find out that you can buy it there for 30 kn! (That's about £3!)

Beside a war-damaged house -- why are we smiling again?

Our route took us through Ljuta and Lovorno, to a Franciscan monastery near Pridvorje -- where we stopped for a quick lunch under an ancient oak. Once rested, it was time for a bit of off-roading: at one point a lady in a vineyard beside the knee-high grass we were plowing through gestured and shouted something. Tea, who was farther back than me, said she seemed angry, but Marko assured us she simply thought we were lost. (U'm, I know I don't understand Croatian, but... O.K.) On the way back, we stopped near Ljuta to see an old watermill, and replenish our water in the river of the same name. We also picked up a bottle of orahovac, a home-made walnut brandy that the region is famous for, from a small stand outside a restaurant.

Didn't quite make it across -- clearly the bike's fault.

Marko was a fantastic guide: really down-to-earth, with a great sense of humour. You can tell he loves his job, and who wouldn't, out amongst such beautiful landscapes every day. He also dropped tidbits throughout the day; one that stuck with me was passed on from a woman who'd spent time with Australian Aborigines, according to him: when water is in short supply, place a small stone under your tongue; the salivation will keep your mouth moist, easing discomfort and slowing your heart rate. Thankfully, we didn't have need of this today.

And now, for a kip.

Update 9:51 p.m.: We decided to have supper at Lady Pi Pi again. Excellent choice!

Octopus salad appetizer

Seafood platter for two

For more on this trip, check out our album and the dubrovnik label.

Dubrovnik: up amongst the swifts

We woke to rain in the wee hours this morning. It had cleared by the time we'd stirred, and there was barely a cloud in the sky until mid afternoon. We're about to head to supper now, and it's still lovely, if a little cool.

We booked a tour to Montenegro tomorrow; we'll be up early for that two-hour bus ride. Hopefully the good weather will continue. The other significant event of the day was walking the walls of Old Town. Unsurprisingly, it's a popular attraction, but they've done a great job, keeping the foot traffic one-way. I'd also recommend going later in the afternoon; they're closed at 6 p.m., but they don't chase you off once you're up and, today at least, the lighting was superb as it got on for 7 p.m.

Cafe Buza: just outside the walls

As the title suggests, the highlight for me was the swifts: for sheer numbers, as well as their proximity. They're such agile creatures, dipping and diving in and out of the narrowest of alleys, and then coming mere feet from you. When we were staying in Varenna, I had trouble distinguishing them from bats once dusk came on; here, the shape of their beaks, colouration, etc. were all immediately obvious. What I wasn't able to determine is where they were nesting; I kept trying to follow their 'flicking', wondering whether they'd ever get tired. (Having very short legs, swifts won't voluntary land on the ground or perch.)

I'll included a few shots below, but don't forget to check out our album as well.

Update 10:50 p.m.: We'd spied and smelled the smoke from Lady Pi Pi's grill earlier, settling on that for supper. It did not disappoint. I'm stuffed to the gills still. I started with anchovies, and then went for grilled squid; such good choices -- the best squid of my life, hands down -- but I didn't stop there: when I saw Lady Pi Pi goulash, I had to try it. The waiter raised an eyebrow, but dutifully brought it. They'd listed it as a side dish, but it was a meal in itself. And, oh, so good. I put a good dent in the lot, anyway. Tea's steak, with sardines to start, was also excellent. I can see us back there for at least one more meal.

Dubrovnik, at war

After picking up a few groceries -- just before closing, luckily -- we stopped at Konoba Moskar for a spot of lunch. Tea had sea bass again -- deboning it like a champ -- and I had stewed beef in a traditional Dalmatian sauce, with gnocchi; both were fantastic. I also tried the other Croatian lager, Karlovacko, which was very good; I wasn't as impressed with my bottle of Ozujsko the other night. I'm still on the hunt for what I suspect will be my favourite: the strong, dark lager called Tomislav.

Sated, we then set out for the cable car to the Imperial Fortress, on Mount Srđ. We actually passed through some cloud near the top, so after spending some time in the Croatian Independence War Museum -- Dubrovnik wasn't spared, as you can see in the picture below -- we headed down the switchbacks to get a better view of Dubrovnik old and new.

Damage sustained during the Siege of Dubrovnik; the building housing our apartment is yellow -- i.e., the roof or walls damaged -- and circled

Now we're off on another adventure outside the walls, to a Mexican restaurant Tea wants to try.

Update 12:35 a.m.: That Mexican restaurant is closed on Sundays. Nevertheless, we found a nearby restaurant, Komarda, and enjoyed yet another beautifully cooked sea bass between us. (In addition to deboning it, Tea valiantly defended it against one particularly enterprising cat. In case you weren't aware, there are a lot of cats wandering around Dubrovnik.) Plus, the wine, a Kozlovic white... Oh, it was excellent. And then, drawn by the live acoustic music, we enjoyed another lovely, fruity bottle of white on the 'Stradun': Malvasija Dubrovacka.

Yet another (beautiful) sea bass, at Komarda

The Stradun

Us, at Cele

As noted earlier, I'll continue to update our Picasa album throughout the trip.

Dubrovnik, at last

Ah, Dubrovnik at last! Ever since I fell for the New Dubrovnik in Ottawa, I've dreamed of seeing (and tasting) it. Granted that cuisine is more prominent in the north of Croatia, but, after some outstanding sea bass this afternoon at Bistro Teatar, I'm not complaining! (The Greek and Italian influences are stronger in the south.) The waiter brought it out beforehand -- we even saw a guy delivering fresh catches during the meal! -- and it was prepared so beautifully with garlic and herbs; I'm salivating at the memory. A gentleman beside me was having oysters the likes of which I've only seen in Vigo, and these were even fleshier; apparently they're in season now. With only a dash of lemon, what a starter!

Getting off the bus outside the main gate of Dubrovnik's Old Town was a bit overwhelming -- according to a local paper, they're expecting 206 cruise ships this year, and it seemed really busy with the half dozen or so that were in today -- but, post-kip, with them set sail and the setting sun reflecting off the worn cobblestones, swifts crying and circling above... Well, it just brings you up, marvelling.

I know the reality of the Old Town isn't as romantic: while it's been recognized as a World Heritage Site since '79, I remember reading that the property market has recently rocketed (or maybe has again): as such, fewer folks actually live there, selling or renting their places -- just like the apartment we're in -- and moving outside the walls. [I just remembered that one of my sources was Boj's blog. She references incentives to keep locals living in the Old Town; I'll have to see whether there's data on how that's working, two years on from their visit.]

Check out our Picasa album for more pictures from the trip; I'll be updating it throughout the week here.

Edinburgh: can you say Hogmanay?

December 29, 2011

The bar at the Dome

The day started brisk, but nothing like our arrival by train last evening. ("B'ys, she was blowin' a gale," I'm sure Granddad would've said.) We went out with a childhood friend of Tea's who happened to be in Edinburgh at the time, and the words were torn from our mouths on more than one occasion. (My favourite moment of the evening was when Tea and Anna reminisced about seeing the Eurythmics when they were 10.) I'll take these blustery showers, particularly kitted out as we are with base layers and rain trousers.

Silly sods that we are, we wondered how we'd breakfast after our nice, long lie-in. Look no further than the Christmas market one street over from our hotel, on Princes Street. (Tea's like a bloodhound when it comes to them, I'm sure you've realized by now, dear reader.) Before long we were sated on ridiculously chunky seafood broth, toasties made with Isle of Mull cheddar, mulled wine and mead. (I feel that sentence needs a "Huzzah!")

Did someone say toasties? NOM.

Outside BrewDog Edinburgh

From there, it was on to our first BrewDog pub, ever! I know you're probably shaking your head in wonder, given how I go on and on about them, but they've only been around since 2007, and, based in Fraserburgh, Scotland, their pubs are understandably out of the reach of all but the thirstiest of Gloucestershire folk. We sampled half pints of their Christmas Porter and Scotch Ale, and both were excellent: the former was nicely spiced -- you could really taste the chillies -- and the latter had some nice toffee undertones.

In front of Edinburgh Castle

After a wander, taking pictures of the castle in the dying light -- barely gone 4 p.m., mind! -- we made our way down Grassmarket to a Chinese restaurant Tea had wanted to try for ages: Chop Chop. It wouldn't open for another hour, so we killed some time in the nearby Thomson's Bar (found with Tea's handy CAMRA app.). This one-room pub managed some real character, its walls lined with history. I was telling Tea that the various McEwan's, Younger, etc. beer ads, for sweet stout and other wonders of another time, were all chronicled in the Pete Brown book I'd started on the train ride up. (Tea's pint of Fyne Ales' Piper’s Gold was nice, but couldn't compete with my pint of the lovely Hophead by Dark Star that I'd first tried a few months ago in that absolute star of a pub, Cask.)

M'm, dumplings

Chop Chop immediately struck both of us as utterly professional. With no reservation, we worried that we might not get a table; and with good reason. Still, they squeezed us in a 90-minute slot, serving us efficiently, without rushing us. And the food was out of this world; it certainly opened my eyes to the possibilities in Chinese cuisine: pork and coriander dumplings; tasty, tangy cucumber salad; aubergine salad with lemongrass, garlic and other awesomeness I couldn't hope to identify; garlic lamb with cumin. Just amazing. And because we'd ordered the "Banquet for two," we could order more of any of those dishes at no extra charge (which we did, of course).

* * *

December 30, 2011

Arthur's Seat (to the left) at dawn

We got up early (for us) to have plenty of time to catch our tour bus at the Royal Mile at 9 a.m. Our destination: the Scottish Highlands. Tea had picked Rabbie's at random the night before, and in short order it was clear she'd hit the jackpot: Euan, both our driver and guide, was enthusiastic, engaging, funny and knowledgeable. Plus, he kept us to a schedule without being overbearing, invited questions throughout while keeping an eye on the road, and was perfectly calm in the proper snowstorm that threatened to ground us in Pitlochry.

Dunkeld Cathedral

Our route took us over the Firth (fjord) of Forth, past Fife and through Perth, to Dunkeld, notable for its proximity to Birnam (and the famous wood of the same name) and, despite a population of little more than 1000, its cathedral. After wandering the grounds of the latter and stopping for a quick bite to eat in the town itself, we hopped over to the Hermitage for a longer walk. While stunning, its beauty was marred by a recent hurricane. A local news story from mid-month explains:

After shutting down the Dunkeld woodland site, North Perthshire property manager Ben Notley explained: “The Hermitage took a battering with yesterday’s winds and unfortunately we have lost a lot of trees. Some of these are very large, root systems have been uprooted and the area is very unsafe... We hope to reopen in time for the Christmas holidays.”

Thank goodness they succeeded! Still, memories of touring Point Pleasant Park after Hurricane Juan followed me back to the bus.

Snow's arrived!

Next up was the Victorian spa town of Pitlochry. As we toured one of the town's two distilleries(!), Blair Athol -- whose single malt isn't sold beyond their shop, but makes up much of the Bell's blend -- however, the stormy weather caught us, cutting our route through the Highlands a bit short. Still, it made for a fun lunch stop: Tea's app. pegged the Moulin Inn and Brewery as our best bet, a mere two kilometres from the town's thoroughfare. What we failed to realize was that it was uphill, over a good layer of snow by that point. True to our heritage, we made it, scarfed down a delicious roast pork dinner, sampled all four of their brews(!) -- their light ale was the recommendation, and the best -- and made it back to the bus with minutes to spare. Tea even pushed out a stuck car on the way back! (Where was I, you say? U'm, well, I'd run ahead to flag down Euan, convinced we were late.)

At the Moulin Inn and Brewery

That roast pork was even tastier than it looks

Aside: the other distillery, Edradour, was a tantalizing few hundred metres beyond the inn. Ah, for more time. And I've never seen such a selection of their whisky as was behind that bar! Bottles of 'Straight from the Cask' I'd never heard of, tall bottles(!) -- I know them for their stubby bottles; there were easily a dozen varieties on display. I shall return!

Euan brought us back through Aberfeldy and Crieff as the snow gave way to rain. As we drove by Stirling Castle, the fog obscured all but a few lights at its base.

* * *

All the streets around the Royal Mile were closed in preparation for Hogmanay, but our cabbie managed to thread a route from our hotel to our apartment for the next few nights, near the foot of Arthur's Seat. Once there, we quickly dropped our bags and headed back in for the Torchlight Procession.

If you haven't heard of it, look it up! It - blew - my - mind.

The only other time I've been surrounded by that much open flame was at the candlelight service every Christmas Eve at Wesley United Church in St. John's when I was a kid -- where the colossal responsibility of tempering flame and wax barely left me breath to sing -- and these were flaming brands of wood, rope and wax longer than my forearm! The street was full of them! As far as the eye could see! And there was danger on the wind, for surely so much wood-smoke is no campfire, but a raging inferno, my brain would periodically pipe.

And as if that weren't enough, they closed it with fireworks right overhead, almost asking to be cupped in our upraised hands.

We truly were drunk on it. Back at the fair and Christmas market by the Scott Monument, we sang, can-can'd, and pole-danced, sanity be damned! Then, exhausted, we supped, and drank mulled whisky from a fish bowl. As Cassie would say, "Awww, yeah."

* * *

December 31, 2011

After the lie-in of champions, we seized the day, moving our New Year's Day walk up Arthur's Seat ahead. Our ambition knew no bounds as we tackled the steepest route, our breath ripped from our mouths by the gales, even as we needed it most. Still, we conquered, carefully celebrating amongst the jagged rocks and pooled water whilst being buffeted. The descent offered little respite, and while brown bums and scrapped hands surrounded us, we eventually emerged unscathed, largely thanks to the course struck by 'Billy Goat' Button.

[After a quick stop for groceries, it was time to prepare for the imminent celebrations...]

* * *

January 1, 2012

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Last night was a blast! So much goodwill and bonhomie. And it was really well organized as well: lots of toilets, and plenty of police and staff to answer questions; you could tell they'd done this before. To feel so safe amongst 80000 people is truly a testament.

The fireworks display, mirrored at Holyrood Palace and the castle, blew my socks off! And while things dispersed shortly thereafter, our band of eight kept the party goin' a good while longer.

Good times!

Check out our Picasa album for more pictures from the trip.

Baltic cruise: Helsinki: sauna nation

[We pick up my travel journal on the eve of our historic first steps on Russian soil.

The post title comes from the two million saunas in Finland; enough to house the 5.1 million Finns simultaneously, with room to spare.]

July 2, 2011: Helsinki

Back on the boat, docked in Helsinki. What a fantastic day! Not a cloud in the sky. We passed a sign before midday that read 29℃; hilarious, when you consider that we thought this'd be our coldest stop. (It is our most northern one.)

♫ One of these things is not like the others ♪

Sailing into Helsinki was very reminiscent of the approach to Stockholm, with the many treeds islands and islets. As we entered the port -- which is rare amongst the Nordic countries for its tendency to freeze in the winter, and explains Finnish expertise in the manufacture of icebreakers -- sailing vessels lined the horizon: while we were too early for the regatta in Warnemünde, we docked smack in the middle of one in Helsinki. They're very serious about their boating: their oldest yachting club began in the mid 1800s and is still in operation.

The day began with markets: first, the covered Hakaniemi Market Hall, built in 1914. It sold all sorts of food -- including amazing fish, of course -- and I loved all the old photographs of its early days, displayed throughout. Then we took in the nearby, open-air kauppatori (market square). There were all sorts of vendors again, including fishmongers selling their catch right from their boats, those selling all manner of woollen garments -- later, I picked up a pair of wool socks from a woman who spoke very little English; a rarity, I can assure you (at least in Helsinki, despite the two official languages being Finnish and Swedish) -- florists, painters, jewellers, and many, many food stands. We made a note to come back for lunch.

Uspenski Cathedral

So began the religious segment of the day: first, the Eastern Orthodox church, Uspenski Cathedral. Oddly, it was open to tourists during a baptism; tourism trumps all in Helsinki, apparently. Next up was the Lutheran church, Helsinki Cathedral. The dramatic white steps leading up to it, and the cobblestone square and fountain before it, make it a natural congregation point for the Finns, it seems. On this day, it was the start of their gay pride parade, Helsinki Pride.

We could feel the energy building as we made our way to one final church, and the last sight on our list: the famous Rock (Temppeliaukio) Church. (Unfortunately, it was closed for a wedding; scrap that tourism trumps all bit.) This energy reached Notting Hill Festival proportions as we headed back to the kauppatori. All the city's green space -- plenty enough to rival Stockholm, incidentally, which has been widely lauded on that point throughout our cruise -- was lined with picnickers, out to show their support, enjoy the sun, have fun, or all of the above.

Helsinki Cathedral

Frequent readers will know the weight I give a city's vibe or pulse. Helsinki has it in spades, as well as a sense of conviviality and community (if that milktoast term means anything these days) that I hope extends beyond the celebrations of the day; that's the problem with day stops to new places, of course: I don't know. Frankly, residents might risk cardiac arrest, displaying such joie de vivre on a daily basis.

I suspect much of what I felt is there year round, because there was plenty of evidence unrelated to gay pride: one intersection was strung with many laden clotheslines, whether as art or in fun (or both, of course), I couldn't say. In a park, a band included a cardboard box drummer -- and a good one at that!

Everywhere you turned, people were out enjoying themselves, in groups big and small. After seeing a few hen dos in full swing mid afternoon, it came to us that the seasons may have a lot to do with this: in the winter, parts of northern Finland never see the sun, and even Helsinki is limited to three or four hours of daylight for long stretches. Best get out and enjoy that (almost endless, at times) sunlight when it comes then!

I'm forever relating new places to those I've seen. With Helsinki, I struggled. Much of it reminded me of what I'd imagine the southern USA is like, along the coast. (But I'm relying on television for much of that, I hasten to qualify.) The public transportation is all European, though, even if the street cars hint at San Francisco. We really enjoyed Stockholm, but, particularly for a short stay, you can't beat Helsinki's accessibility; it's a walker's city. (I do see a long weekend in Sweden in our future, however, when we have the time to explore.)

We rounded out the day with a (late) fish lunch in the kauppatori -- even tastier than we'd been imagining on our long walk back -- and a boat tour of the harbour. The latter may have squeaked in as the highlight of an amazing day, as it allowed us to take in the sights (and a load off!) in a fully licensed environment.

I met two lost ladies from St. Petersburg earlier in the day -- they were looking for the bus terminal; luckily a passer-by spoke Russian and was able to direct them -- and tomorrow I get to see it. Can hardly wait!

Up next: St. Petersburg, Russia

There are more pictures from the amazing day in our Picasa album, as usual.