Stockholm, lost in translation

Location Stockholm a medieval city centre located on 14 Islands boarding the Baltic sea.  One of the 5 fastest growing cities in Europe and surely one of the best located and stunning capital cities in the world.  I had seen pictures but didn't know what to expect.  This was one of 3 cities visited on the capitals of the Scandinavian countries tour.  I was travelling by train and had just arrived from Copenhagen, itself a surprising city. 

Stockholm View

First impressions of Stockholm were positive and a cycle tour from the hostel I was staying in meant touring the city with the locals.  A good eye opener to what it was like to live and work in the city.  Over some of the many bridges, through bustling streets and even to a city beach, were just some of the highlights.  Along with several appealing cafes, bars and stores.

A recommended attraction was the 'Vasa' Museum.  And it turned out to be one of the best museum I have been too.  It housed just one thing, and the associated stuff that had been found with it.  That was a large ship.  Launched 10th August 1628, sunk 10th August 1628 having barely travelled 1300 metres.  There it lay on the floor of Stockholm harbour until it was finally lifted free after 333 years in 24th April 1961.  It's a bit damp inside the museum due to the constant spray of water keeping the ship preserved but the chance to walk around the ship and seeing the detail in the carving of something that has been so well preserved is an opportunity not to be missed.

The Vasa

A memorable and unique evening was spent in the hostel itself.  The hostel was small and friendly, with overcrowded bunk rooms but pleasant communal areas including a large TV room.  And here we all gathered in the evening as it just so happened that this was the opening ceremony night of the London 2012 Olympic games.  It also happened that although roughly 25 people were there I was the only Brit.  There followed a translation of what the hell the opening ceremony was all about, some of it sure lost in translation.  However the flags coming into the stadium reminded me, that although sometimes hostels lack privacy, there are other reasons why I continue to stay in them.  There must have been atleast15 different nationalities in the room and the cheers that went up when the flags came out are still memorable.  These were people that had only just met, taken in a few city sights and had a few beers together, and probably would never see each other again.  But surely this was one of the best parties in town and reminds me that the people you meet are just as much part of the journey as the place itself.

 

Slovenia , sea and horse?

A trip to Slovenia brought a few surprises to a destination that I had only read about.  A few days in Ljubljana was the plan, taking in the sites of the old city, the castle and cobbled streets.  But in a few days of course more than that is possible.  And a day trip to the seaside was what was called for and duly planned.  We had intended to take the train through the beautiful forested countryside.  Unfortunately due to an ice storm earlier in the year the track was damaged and needed clearing, so the bus it was.

The journey was pleasant enough, if not long, due to the bus seemly stopping at every village on the way.  a good opportunity to see who got on and off the bus with who and wonder what the hell they did in these quite unassuming villages.  But finally the sea was in sight and the bus pulled into Piran.  And what a good surprise awaited us.  It was hot and sunny and the venetian style architecture seemed to glow in the light.  Colourful buildings with red roofs, narrow alleyways and cobbled streets were all awaiting discovery.  Plenty of cafes in the large square competed for our custom and a relaxing hour was spent sitting and watching the world going on around us.  Well worth the time spent on the bus.



Piran harbour

There were tourists, but not as many as would be expected in a destination such as this, and it was easy to spend time wandering about taking in the views, the unusual buildings and little individual boutiques.  There was a beach just outside the old town, but this was lined with newer hotel resorts and for us on this day the old town was enough.  A walk by the sea and a chance to dip our feet in the sea whilst looking at the yachts was a bonus  Several tempting places served up fresh fish for lunch and had we been staying the night, the hotel Piran looked like a real treat.

Piran

Time however was short and a quick bus ride later took us to the train station, ironic really, where we sat by the tracks and awaited another bus back to the capital.

The days surprises were not over.  After a pre dinner drink sitting outside by the river that flows through the city, dinner was calling.  The restaurant was very appealing from the outside, bustling and smelling great, with a open grill and bar seating opposite that could be spied from the window.  It was full of locals, no tables available but we were directed to the bar and after being presented with the menu, tried to order.  It seemed like they had nothing on the menu, when asking what they did have, we were met with the answer beef or horse.  Yes horse.  We went for the beef.  And whatever else they wanted to bring.  The meal was amazing, fresh artichoke done on the grill, parmesan vegetables and perfect beef.  All washed down with honey beer.  And it was cheap, very cheap.  Paying the bill, we couldn't leave until we drank the complementary schnapps, and then a walk back to the hotel was all that was left of the day.  A busy one, but one full of treats in this easy destination, and what was more, there was still a few days left to enjoy.

Ljubljana old town

Armenia, Adventures in the North

If someone ever says 'I am full, but wait I have two houses' you may want to consider your options before you say 'okay then'.  However in a backwater mining town in northern Armenia, other accommodation choices were limited, that is to say, nonexistent.  So with a cheery 'okay lets go', we piled into the taxi with an old lady.  This lady turned out to be our very helpful host for the next couple of days.  The mother of the hostel owner and a lady with a convenient spare room, who with tourists desperate for somewhere to stay, had a money making opportunity.  She reminded us of a helpful Aunt.  Providing snacks and tea at every opportunity.  At times we felt she felt sorry for us.  For we had said no to the inclusive meal option.  This was a mistake as apparently there were few opportunities to eat in this town, so every time food was produced in the house we devoured it.  A clear sign to our host that we were 'poor' foreigners.  Ironic really when staying in a soviet block of flats with a tin bath in the stairwell, variable electricity and only hot water at certain times of day.

Going no-where

 We had come to this town of Alaverdi for two reasons.  One to go on the cable car that would take us up the side of the canon to the top of the gorge and to the village of Sarahat.  And two, to complete a walk between Sanahin monastery and Haghpat monastery.  Unfortunately our first plan was scuppered before it even began.  Apparently the cable car was hit by lightening earlier in the year and the town didn't have the money to fix it.  Like a lot of things in this town, it seemed like its days were numbered.  Past its hay-day and beyond care.  The people we talked to seemed to long for the past Soviet era, when at least people had jobs and though hard they know what the future held.

Our second plan was much more successful.  In the absence of a working cable car, a ramshackle bus was taken up the steep gorge to the top, during which time a lovely old lady dispensed fruit to us, maybe she too thought we were starving.  Sanahin monastery turned out to be a gem of moss covered buildings built during the medieval period and surviving soviet occupation.  We pretty much had the place to ourselves so could walk around and explore the dark corners, and intricate carvings.  

Sanahin Monastery

Before setting out on our 7 km walk to the next monastery there was just time to check out the Mikoyan museum.  The home of the designer of the MiG, the USSR's first fighter jet in world war two.  It was clear from the attentive guide insisting we looked in detail at every photo that this was a museum with few visitors.  So appreciative noises and photos with the MiG later, we set out on our walk. 

MiG also going no-where

We had no map, just a vague description of the route.  All was going well until we ended in a field with what appeared to be a steep drop into the gorge below.  We could see the monastery but had no idea how to traverse the gorge.  Luckily help was at hand in the guise of an Armenian family celebrating a birthday.  They were picnicking on the edge, and soon invited us to join them.  Only the young girl spoke a bit of English but her father and uncle were keen that we ate and more importantly drank before directions could be given.  An hour later and varying snacks and quite a lot of vodka consumed for mid-afternoon we were on our way again. 

The path down the gorge was steep, the hill the other side a killer, and the temperature approaching uncomfortably hot.  But victory was ours.  We had made it.  The monastery itself was 'nice', yep we had seen many by then, and it had reached the 'nice' point.  A taxi back into town completed our journey.  And on this our last night in Armenia we celebrated with the only thing we could get in this town, a soft drink in the cafe by the empty swimming pool.  There we sat and considered the hospitality of the friendly people of this town, and how we were no longer made for afternoon drinking.  Then we hurried 'home' before aunt sent out a search party.  

Ukraine Unexpected Adventures

Some days on some journeys stand out more than others, and after two weeks in hot, sticky and often uncomfortable Ukraine a few days to round off the trip in Kiev seemed to be just what was called for.  The day in question was spent marvelling at why anyone would build a 62 metre tall statue of a female warrior?  we went to check it out.  'Rodina Mat' or properly called the defence of the mother land monument' is a giant titanium woman who can be viewed from many vantage points across the city.  But it is also possible to get right up close to her, stand at her feet or even catch a lift right into her head.  Sounds like a promising treat, especially to weary people and those with more than a slight fondness for large statues.  The bigger and weirder the better. 


Rodina Mat

The excitement mounted until unfortunately it was discovered that due to the super hot temperatures that the city was experiencing the trip to the head would just have to wait.  It was apparently too dangerous to enter the head what with it being made of metal.  Undeterred we sought fun in the surrounding grounds.  And I would recommend to any one the photo opportunities available on relicts of the Soviet era.  Who wouldn't want to climb onto various old tanks and other military hardware.  Especially as we more or less had the place to ourselves.



Other examples of fine Soviet era statues integrated into complete scenes of hard labour and communist pride also exist around the area and again proved a reliable source of propaganda of the strength of the union.  Is it wrong to pretend to be part of the statues, I'm sure we've all done it.  If not you're missing no end of fun. 

Playing statues on military hardware

In contrast the rest of the day was spent around the Lavra.  The Ukraine's most sacred of holy grounds.  Several hours of exploration are needed to explore this site of Orthodox churches, monasteries and caves.  With skilfully crafted domes, ornate paintings and decorations this area is as beautiful and inspiring as you would expect it to be.  A place of pilgrimage for many Orthodox Christians and a place of tourist pilgrimage for others.  A side from the vast numbers of people all straining to get a look, the place itself proved interesting.   However  with all the pushing and shoving some religious significance seemed lost.

View of the Lavra

So a memorable day no less, and well worth the visit for anyone passing this way.  But despite the holiness of the Lavra, the feeling of peace and tranquillity, there's no getting away from the fact that a big statue will always be a big statue and who can resist that?

Azerbaijan Summer

Xinaliq, by some definitions Europe's highest village.  How did I find myself here I wondered?, As myself and a friend stood side by side on a cobbled dirt track as the mist rose surrounding perhaps one of the least discovered yet stunning beautiful parts of a country few have explored.  The houses around us were stone, remote dwellings of villagers in one of the friendliest and welcoming places I have ever been.  We stayed with a family homestay, in a room with a bed covered with blankets, the floor and wall covered with colourful rugs, their bright colours a contrast to the hues of green and grey outside.  And a family who  cooked up a feast as soon as we arrived.  We tucked in enjoying the simple yet tasty food on offer.  Bits of chicken, bread and some vegetables.  Who would have known that this was basically it for the day, people here were poor.

View of Xinaliq

It was summer, but chilly in the evening and early morning as we strolled around this isolated settlement high in the Caucasus mountain range.  The day we arrived we were dropped off by a taxi driver from a larger settlement nearby who it seemed felt worried to leave us here, as if he were unsure of how we would be here.  As he drove off not to return until the following day, we kept our fingers crossed hoping communication did mean he would come back as there were no taxis in this isolated place, no bus or train on which to move on.  Just some 4x4's, who would arrive with boots full of random stuff, ordered for different families in the village, and dropped off if someone came by.

Our host seemed eager to please, a call was made to Baku (Azerbaijan's capital, where it seemed someone from the village had gone to make his fortune as well as learn some English).  Even up here there was mobile signal!.  We had hoped to make a hike to a natural fire vent, but were told an application should have been made in writing to the tourist office in Baku at least a month ago.  This area is still a sensitive border region with Russia, with troubles still brewing in Dagestan.  Our host didn't want to disappoint, so for a small fee decided to take us on a hike along a semi-dry river bed to see the local water falls.  Events on the trek took a turn for the surreal when scared by the potential of 'mountain dogs' our host insisted we run, jam ourselves into the front of a van (all 3 of us, plus the driver in the front until out of range of the 'dog'.  Apparently trained by Shepherds to protect their sheep in these remote mountains, the dog never materialised to our untrained eyes.  Further along the river bed, we stopped to take tea with a shepherd family.  Shoes off, into a cosy yet movable home for hot hot tea and bread and cheese.  A deal was done and our host appeared with a horse, apparently borrowed to help us cross the now swelling river.  The trek was worth it, the water falls beautiful and best of all we had seen no one but the shepherds for most of our journey.

Shepherd Family camp

Waking up the following morning and looking outside to the view that surely no one can tire of, we again considered why we were here.  How could we have ended up in a place like this, so isolated, so unknown, yet so beautiful?  And we thought of the flight bookings, the misunderstanding of the difficulty of getting a re-entry visa for Azerbaijan, and of Georgia, who would just have to wait for another trip.  And realised that some things really do turn out for the best.  The unexpected destination often gives more reward than the perfect put together plan.