Explore with Fran

Leaving Albania for Greece

Bed number 45 of the travels was to be in another country. Leaving Albania for a country that has been firmly in Victoria’s sights even before we left Australia. Whatever was to come before, spending a few weeks in the Greek Islands was non-negotiable for her. Packing up and heading out of the apartment, downhill to the ferry port, I managed to get a final cheese burek for breakfast. Warm, fluffy and utterly divine. I was going to miss these. I thought. Turns out I was wrong. But back to the travel day.

We left Sarande, and Albania on the 10am boat to Greece. As we had on other parts of this trip we were going to cross an international border by boat. Passport control was a breeze and we all filed through and boarded. Corfu was our destination today and whilst I had spent a lot of time traveling in Greece and the islands, Corfu was to be a first for me.

Exploring Corfu Old Town

Arriving before our 3pm AirBnB check in we stored our bags in a luggage locker and went in search of a cold Mythos. Corfu old town was a hive of activity. On that first afternoon we had great fun wandering and getting lost in the warren of alleyways, plonking down eventually to lunch. A large serve of delicious pastitsio. Already you could feel the difference between Albania and Greece. It was visceral. Friendly service. Smiles. The Greeks know how to do hospitality.

Something that was borne out when we did check into the AirBnB. The owner met us to take us up and check us in. Me in the tiny, rickety lift with the bags, Victoria and the owner taking the stairs. The apartment was large and very modern. We had a complimentary bottle of wine waiting for us, together with water and juice in the fridge. 

Greek Food is heavenly

That first evening was something Victoria had long looked forward to. And she made the most of being in her “happy place”. A dinner that included halloumi, pita bread, tzatziki, and moussaka. Rounded out with one of the famous Greek carafes of local white wine. The food was delicious. The setting dreamy, overlooking the sea. And she still had the rest of the Greek menu to explore over the coming days and weeks.

We had three days exploring as much of Corfu as we could. Being based in the old town meant we got to see a lot of the coast and the amazing sunsets. Why is it when you see a great sunset that you can’t stop taking photographs of them? No matter that you have hundreds of other sunset photos. No matter that you tell yourself just to stand and enjoy. The camera always comes out. 

Exploring Sidari on Corfu Island

One day we took a bus from the “green bus station” to the northern coast. To a small town called Sidari. A town that Victoria had visited as a young girl on a family holiday. Sidari felt very different to the old town. Lots of hotels. Lots of English holiday makers. Lots of bars advertising “English breakfasts”. It was lovely to have a refreshing dip in the sea and we were glad to get back to the old town for dinner. After showering later, and checking my chest in the mirror, I certainly had to improve on how I apply my sunscreen. Resembling a lobster, I had a glass of wine and watched the World Cup Final (knowing it should have been England!).

Moving on from Corfu we boarded the boat to Paxos, or Paxi as the locals call it. We were here for four nights and it turned out to be such a great place to spend time. Our privately owned apartment had a great view of the small harbour. A view worth dragging our bags up the many steep steps for. Greeted by the owner, Mrs Theckli, she also knew how to host. 

“Victoria, look in here,” she said, opening the fridge. “My favourite wine is here, a bottle for you. And for your husband, cold beers.”

We had a bottle of prosecco to celebrate our Paxos visit with. And the day after, when Mrs Theckli cleaned the apartment and took away the empties, she restocked the bottle of prosecco and the beers. If that wasn’t enough, she insisted on feeding us through our whole stay. She was constantly popping her head in and shouting, “Victoria, Victoria,” leaving us with fresh bread, olive oil, tomatoes and basil.

The piece de resistance was when she called around and Victoria was finishing up from a shower.

“Come with me,” Mrs Theckli barked at me. I didn’t dare argue. “Follow me.”

And this is how I found myself in her kitchen as she took a huge slab of freshly cooked pastitsio from the oven.

“You like?”

“I love it,” I replied as my mouth watered.

Walking back next door to our apartment with two huge portions of pastitsio I was like the cat that had got the cream.

Needless to say, I had to eat a slice whilst it was still hot. And by golly, was it good. Dinner that evening was a little lighter for me.

Is this what it feels like to live on a Greek Island?

We developed a relaxing routine whilst on Paxos. A breakfast of cheese pie. Yes, I had found my burek replacement. The Greek cheese pie became a firm favourite. A morning walk along the harbour and out to the port. An Espresso Freddo (Google it), a coffee that I discovered and couldn’t get enough of. Lunch, usually gyros. An afternoon dip in the sea. Followed by wine (and, or beers) on the balcony watching the boats of day trippers come and go. Slow days. 

Days that ended with a traditional dinner, a carafe of house wine, and a final walk. Paxos is such a beautiful island and in the evening, when all the day trippers have left, it is an oasis of solitude. Harbourfront restaurants. Locals strolling along the water. Typical Greek Island life. Blissful.

It was on Paxos that we had one of our best dinners of the whole trip. Prawn saganaki for Victoria and I had a seafood risotto that will live long in the memory. Oh lord, even writing about it makes me want to go back.

One of the days we hired a scooter and spent the day exploring the whole island. Small as it was, we were able to see a lot of it in a day. New swimming spots. A great, secluded bar on the beach. As we knew we would, we were falling more in love with the Greek Islands with every passing day.

And exploring more Greek Islands was the plan. We didn’t anticipate how hard that would be, logistically, from this side of the Greek mainland. The distance to other islands on this eastern side of Greece was long and there were little to no ferries plying those routes. 

En Route to more Greek Islands

After a long day of planning we landed on a boat back to Corfu and a flight to Athens, overnight near the airport, and then catch the train to the port of Piraeus for a ferry to our next island. Travelling back to Corfu from Paxos provided us with a show that had the entire boat enthralled. We had a pod of dolphins swimming alongside us. Clearly enjoying themselves, in the wake of the boat, they were jumping in and out of the water to a chorus of oohs and aahs from everyone. 

Docking in Corfu we again stashed our bags in a luggage locker and went for dinner. A gyros plate. A huge gyros plate. Before heading to the airport on the local bus. A ride all of 10 minutes.

On to Serifos

Despite the short bus ride it was a long and tiring day, arriving at an apartment in the suburbs of Athens past midnight. A sleep, a breakfast of pastry and coffee at a local cafe, and we were in a taxi to the nearest train station. The train took us into Piraeus and after lunch at the port we were on the 3pm SeaJet to Serifos. A journey of two and half hours, and a new island for both of us. After a couple of long travel days we are looking forward to slowing down again.

Berat to Vlore

We were back on the road and leaving Berat with a tinge of sadness. The place has a lovely feel to it and is a place we could have lingered longer. With our bellies full of the morning’s delicious home made doughnuts and jam we were off. Today our destination was Vlore. We were headed to the seaside. 

On arrival we knew what to expect. And we weren’t disappointed. Yes, we were dropped 3km from the town centre. And were immediately pounced upon by the local taxi drivers. Doing what they seem to do best in Albania, which is offering exorbitant rates for very relatively short drives. We started to realise this was probably a thing. Drop tourists a long way from town allowing the taxis to pick up some business. 

Not today. Slowly we were getting wise to their tricks. I had done a little research on the bus and saw that our hotel was 45 minutes from the bus drop off.  Being seasoned camino walkers we knew such a short walk would not deter us. We took our bags from the minibus and walked into the centre and to our hotel, getting our first views of central Vlore.

Exploring Vlore

The hotel was in a great location and was modern. A very decent option for a couple of nights, even though there was no kettle. I was already scanning options for the morning where I could pick up an early morning brew. After dropping off our bags, we were too early for check in, we went for a walk along the water. Our first time being by the sea for quite some time. Even with such a short walk we could tell that Vlore had a distinctly different feel to Berat. It was full of holiday makers, for one. And felt the most touristy place we had been in since landing in Albania.

And with large numbers of tourists comes mediocre food. Restaurants don’t have to try as hard. And so it was at lunch. It was a little disappointing and indicative of what I have come to expect in tourist towns. Lots of places to eat, all seemingly offering everything. And specialising in nothing. We had a pizza that made me a little sad. I was already missing Berat. 

Dinner did not help. We decided to go for a gyros. To a place called “Mr Gyros”. Unlike the excellent gyros we had at Opa in Tirana, in Vlore we had possibly the world’s worst.  And that takes some doing. I have had some dubious gyros after long nights out whilst living in Dublin. Thankfully, I subsequently discovered “Abrakebabra”.

World Cup heartbreak in Vlore

Wednesday was the World Cup semi final day. And perhaps things were looking up. We got a tasty, if tiny, moussaka for dinner and a couple of glasses of wine. We chose to eat in the Old Town as our plan was to then walk to the outdoor fan zone we had seen earlier in the day. Only to discover that there were no available seats. Walking back to the small Old Town, we grabbed a couple of beers in an outdoor cafe bar. If I could just ignore the kids that were screaming and having scooter races right in front of us I might even start to enjoy it. 

Once the game started it became apparent that we were perhaps the only two people supporting England. When we heard a large cheer from a neighbouring cafe we wondered what they could possibly be watching. Ten seconds later we knew. As Gordon put England 1:0 up in the 55th minute. Was this to be our year?

We all know the answer, and how England snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. It still hurts. Even at the distance of a couple of months as I write this. Trudging home we couldn’t help but repeat over and over, “we had it won. How did we throw it away?”

Moving on to Sarandë

The morning brought no answers. And like all our fellow Englanders, we were hurt. But we had no time for navel gazing. We were packing up and back on the road. After six nights in Albania it was time to wrap up our stay with a final two nights in Sarandë. 

That is if the bus turned up. With no official bus station I did many internet searches trying to work out where we needed to be for the Sarandë bus. Apparently, it was on a random street corner a short walk from where we were staying. We trundled our bags up and down the many kerbs and did in fact find the said street corner. And there was indeed a little board advertising buses, but nothing else. No other passengers. The bus was due at 9am so all we could do was trust and wait.

And at 9.10am this started to feel like a foolish strategy. I kept checking my watch. Victoria kept checking the street. Then, a minibus arrived. With a small board in the window stating its destination. We jumped aboard and started our four hour ride to Sarandë. 

And you know what happened on arrival. So we weren’t surprised to find the minibus pull up by the side of the road whilst Google Maps showed me we were quite a distance from the centre of town. I sighed. I was again disheartened. The day was hot and in the searing heat, with little shade we walked the 30 minutes to the apartment we had booked.  

Mediation in Sarandë

Like much of the apartments we booked we use Booking.com. For simplicity. You get a clear cost and pay either there and then, or at the property. For this apartment in Sarandë it was “pay at the property”. So, being used to using the cash machines in a cash only economy like Albania we went and withdrew the required Albanian Lek so that we could pay.

The apartment owner had been in contact via What’s App and we agreed a time for him to call around. I opened the door to him and was greeted with a smile as we exchanged pleasantries. His smile disappeared as soon as I gave him the money.

“What is this? I need the money in Euros.”

“We don’t have any Euros, as the cash machines only give us your local currency. Here is enough for the apartment,” I replied.

“No, this is no good,” said the owner, getting irate. “I lose money exchanging this for Euro. You need to pay me more.”

Hmm. This could be tricky, I thought. But we stood our ground.

“This is the price of the two nights. And it is in your local currency. Which is the only currency we can get from the cash machines. You are not getting any more.”

Would we get robbed in Sarandë?

What followed was a quite heated argument, with raised voices. I did wonder if there was a danger of it escalating. Eventually, we agreed to disagree. The blatantly unhappy owner threw a sarcastic comment at us and walked off. We closed the door and breathed. What just happened we asked ourselves. We got nervous leaving the apartment to go out for lunch, convinced he would come back and rob us.

He didn’t. Thankfully. But I have a feeling the corner shop did. Inside was a bit chaotic. Items everywhere. None of them with a price attached. I had seen this game before and knew what to expect. We took two cold beers from the fridge and over to the old lady working on the cash register.

“How much?” I asked.

This was followed by a conversation between her and another person in the shop. A bit of back and forth. If I was a betting man, which I am not, my money would be on their conversation going something like this.

“How much can I charge these tourists for two small beers?”

“Do they look gullible?”

A quick glance at me.

“Yes.”

“OK, double the usual price then.”

And so we walked home with two very overpriced local beers.

Reflecting on our time in Albania

On our final evening in Albania we had a good dinner at a local family restaurant. Then we headed the short distance home for a glass of local wine on the balcony and a game of Uno. We reflected on our time in Albania. An enjoyable eight nights in a country that is still finding its feet with tourism, and tourists. Being a cash only economy is a major pain for travellers and an area that needs to change if more people are to be encouraged to visit. 

As I sipped my nightcap of Skenderbeu, the local brandy, I was already looking forward to our next destination. Tomorrow we will walk down the road to the port and get a boat to Corfu, Greece. What we hadn’t decided yet, or at least Victoria hadn’t told me, was how long we would be there for.

Yamas.

Tirana surprises

When we last spoke we had been exploring Prague and Bratislava. Both beautiful places. And were headed to our first airport in quite some time. Travel always throws you challenges. Curveballs. And this is the beauty of it. Life is unpredictable. Life on the road even more so. This is what builds character. Confidence. And life skills that you do not know you are learning and absorbing. Life skills and resilience that serve you well on your journey.

Albania becomes country number 61

Our journey today was to a country that had been on our list when we left Australia. A country I had been reading more and more about. Albania was to become the 61st country I have visited. The birthplace of Mother Theresa, I learned after a few days in the country. Seeing statues and her image in many places across Tirana.

What to expect of Albania, we had no idea. From what I had read it would be like travelling many years ago. No integrated travel infrastructure. A country relatively new to tourism. A cash only economy. A country with an interesting past. My thoughts turned to long trips through India and China. Very challenging, and very rewarding.

It was with trepidation that we disembarked in Tirana, The nation’s capital. Arriving somewhere new always presents challenges. Usually long lines at immigration. Questions about your stay that have a way of making you incredibly nervous. As though you are doing something wrong just by being there. 

Breezing through the airport in Tirana

I was wrong. I was projecting third world vibes onto Albania. What we experienced was a first world airport experience that is only rivalled by Bali. Another country that relies on tourism and understands how important first impressions are. Tirana airport also has automatic passport gates and with a quick scan, and no queues we were through in a matter of seconds. Literally. I was amazed. Collecting our bags and heading out to where the buses were parked. Following instructions I had found on a travel blog (we can be helpful can’t we?) we headed to the back of the car park, found “Bay 10” and there was a large bus quickly filling up with passengers. In fact, by the time we set off there were even people standing.

The next part of the day didn’t go quite as fast as the airport arrival experience. The traffic in and around Tirana airport is crazy. Gridlocked. One small road out of the airport. And that one road arrives at a roundabout meaning that only a few vehicles get to leave at a time. Time to sit back and settle in. We were going to be a while.

Bus stations in Albania

One thing I had read about travel in Albania was that bus stations were not very conveniently located. Often dropping you off a long way from where you want to be. This was something we were to experience all through our eight days exploring the country. That first day we got dropped off in central Tirana and checking Google Maps we saw that we had a 45 minute walk to the apartment we had booked for the next two days. We better get walking. Crikey, it was hot. And noisy. And busy. And the relief we usually experience when finally arriving at our accommodation was tinged with…well, a quizzical look.

“Is this definitely it?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I replied. “I am sure it is better inside than it looks on the outside.”

On the outside it looked a little like an apartment you see in those pictures from war ravaged regions. A building that had been shelled and was just standing.

It was much better on the inside. A modern, very compact apartment with everything we needed for two nights. Good air conditioning. A kettle. And a television for the World Cup matches. And, as we found out when the sun went down, we were in a very vibrant neighbourhood. Lots of supermarkets, cafes and restaurants. Tirana was starting to surprise me. In a good way. The city has a good, positive feel to it. Buzzy. Alive. 

Exploring Tirana

The city is a little low on what you would call tourist sites. Which is not a surprise. Tourism did not come to Albania until the 1990s. Before that it was closed to the world, under communist rule. When the communist regime started falling apart in the early 90s, tourism arrived in Albania. A civil war in 1997 set this back and now, years later, Albania is fully embracing tourists. 

You can see this in the proliferation of modern looking cafes. And the restaurants, many with a Greek influence. It was in Tirana that we started getting our fix of gyros. At Opa we had one so tasty that we went back the day after. We were practicing for when we got to Greece.

We stayed up til 11pm to watch England defeat Norway. We were headed to only our fourth World Cup semi final. The opponents to be the old enemy, Argentina. With a spring in our step we headed to the “bus station” the morning after in a taxi. I say bus station, but this being Albania, it was just a large patch of land on the outskirts of the city.

The bus to Berat

What you would call organised chaos. People shouting out destinations from across Albania, and pointing rather animatedly at the various buses. I shouted out the name of where we wanted to head and I was directed to an aging minibus with a “Berat” sign in the window. We had to wait until the bus had enough people before we set off on the almost two hour journey. At the speed we left at it could have taken us two days.

Crawling along, constantly tooting the horn, and stopping at every random person on the street and shouting “Berat” at them. Some we picked up. Many we didn’t. On arriving in Berat, again on the edge of town, we had the taxi drivers offering us scandalous prices for the short (but a little too long to walk) ride into town. No thank you. I had read that a local bus comes out to the bus station and drives you into Berat town. We waited.

This did get me thinking. About whether the location of bus stations was a deliberate ploy. Allowing the bus drivers and taxi drivers to work together. So they both get paid. It makes sense, from their perspective. And is a little annoying when you get dropped off far from the centre of town and told “last stop”, only to then see the minibus pass you as it drives right into the very town you are now having to walk to.

Berat city of a thousand windows

Today we waited for the local bus, and it was pennies for the ride into town. Berat is a UNESCO World Heritage site and is known as the “city of a thousand windows”. And at night it is a joy to behold. The white houses sat up on the hill, lit up. Overlooking the Osum river that splits the famous neighbourhoods of Mangalemi and Gorica. The Gorica bridge spans the river and makes for a great post dinner stroll. 

Day two saw us walking the steep incline up to Berat castle for breathtaking views across the region. It was a very interesting area to explore and well worth the exertion to get there. Burning off so many calories was a great excuse to once again get a delicious gyros for lunch.

Berat was somewhere that felt like being on holiday. A busy day walking and exploring. Then relaxing evenings wandering the old town finding a restaurant for dinner. And there were plenty. The Greek influence was unmistakable. That first night we had feta, moussaka, and a carafe of local white wine in a very scenic courtyard restaurant with views of the nearby mountains. 

Berat hospitality

On paying the bill the waiter brought out a bottle of local raki and two small glasses. Victoria wasn’t keen but knew that offering raki to guests was an integral part of Albanian hospitality. It could be seen as rude to refuse. When the bottle came out a second time we took some convincing.

“You will enjoy the second,” we were assured. “It is only the first shot that is strong.”

Still thinking of last night’s raki, I needed breakfast.  Most mornings in Albania this was my beloved cheese burek. Flaky pastry, warm from the oven and filled with soft cheese. Oh my. For our second morning in Berat we had something a little different. The night before we had a knock at our door. It was the lady owner, who didn’t speak a word of English. She had Google Translate open and showed me her phone screen.

“Would you like doughnuts for breakfast?”

A vigorous nod was all it took and then we had Google Translate asking what time.

So it was, at 8am the next morning, with another gentle knock at the door we were presented with a plate of freshly made small Albanian doughnuts and fresh strawberry jam. Just what we needed as we headed out of Berat, on the local bus to the bus station and then onto our next destination.

We were headed for the sea. We were headed for Vlore. And a much anticipated World Cup semi final.

Auf wiedersehen, Germany

The Ibis hotel in Berlin was certainly no frills. Comfortable, convenient, central and no kettle. I know, call me demanding. A kettle is one of the essentials I expect when booking a hotel. My perfect morning starts with freshly brewed coffee. There is a reason I always travel with my V60 pour over and a bag of fresh coffee. Thankfully I was able to get hot water from the machine downstairs and bring it up to the room so I can make my brew.

Today we were headed to another new country for Victoria, and one I have previously visited. Not being able to watch the previous nights football, England’s victory over Mexico we weren’t as tired as I expected us to be. And we had a relatively short travel day. Just a four hours and twenty minute Flixbus ride from the German capital to the capital of the Czech Republic.

Pulling in to Prague

We pulled into Prague at the bus station on the outskirts of town. With much development ongoing it looks as though the town is rapidly expanding. Thankfully, the historic centre of Prague is a UNESCO heritage protected site and thus will remain beautiful, historic, and charming. There is so much character around every turn. Getting lost amongst the old town is one of travel’s treasures. 

Another of travel’s treasures is getting to sample the local cuisine, and as such dinner that evening had me tackling the world’s biggest pork knuckle. Looking around the restaurant I did wonder why everyone appeared to be sharing it. Then it turned up at the table. And I saw why. As Victoria had ordered a schnitzel this was one beast I would have to conquer alone. I rolled home that evening with a sense of accomplishment.

Thinking I would never eat again, imagine how surprised I was the next day to find a huge hot dog in my hand. I know, I know, I would make a terrible vegetarian. Don’t judge me. We had enjoyed some very good hot dogs on our odyssey across Europe and the ones in Prague were no exception. Why do they always taste better with a cold beer?

Exploring Prague Castle

Trying to walk off some of the effects of all the food we decided to make the steep walk up to Prague Castle. Despite me visiting Prague several times previously I had never been up to the castle.  And it was a very steep walk that rewards you with some stunning views across the Vltava river and sweeping views of the city. We had a very enjoyable day exploring the castle and its grounds. Golden Lane was a highlight and we got to visit the very small house that Franz Kafka called home between 1916 and 1917 as he wrote the collection of short stories in “A Country Doctor”. 

Kafka in Prague

I have long been a fan of Kafka’s writing and I love just wandering the city and imagining the young Franz going about his day. Working as an insurance clerk and writing at night, Kafka died at age 40 as a relative unknown. He was a prodigious writer, very often torn between the necessity to work and earn a living, and the deep desire to follow his passion, which was writing. Who has not felt torn by this in life? It is only because his final wish to destroy his books was ignored that he is now known across the world as one of the giants of literature.

Whilst in Prague I love to try the traditional food. As with the gigantic pork knuckle mentioned earlier I also got to have a very good beef goulash. Despite Victoria protesting that it looked like something someone had brought back up after a bad meal it was delicious. And who can come to Prague without sampling a few of the rather excellent local beers. Despite being on a travel budget (as opposed to a holiday budget – the distinction becomes very real when travelling) we did manage a pint or three.

A curious point on the beer in Prague. The longer we were there the bigger the head on the beer seemed to be getting. It appears to be a point of pride for bartenders to get a really big head on the beer and it looked as though we were in danger of getting a glass full of froth.

Prague’s Astronomical Clock

Our AirBnB was excellently located, right in the Old Town, mere steps from the famous Astronomical Clock. A clock that Victoria stood and watched and asked “is it going to do anything exciting?” It doesn’t and yet on the hour, every hour, hordes of tourists congregate around the front of it, videoing I don’t really know what. I am sure they have seen everyone else doing it on Instagram and TikTok and they don’t want to miss out.

In and around the old town of Prague there are some excellent sculptures to hunt down. The most from an artist called David Černý. One of which you would miss completely unless you look up high. “Man hanging out” is reputed to depict the great Sigmund Freud. Černý has a number of other sculptures scattered about that make for great fun in finding them.

After a great three days exploring Prague it was time to hit the road again. Walking back to the bus station for our four hour Flixbus ride I was excited at the thought of adding a new country to my list. A new country for both of us this time. We were heading into Slovakia, and the capital Bratislava.

Beautiful Bratislava

Located on the Danube river, in the south west of the country, Bratislava is one of those cities that has flown under the radar for many years. And now, it is becoming increasingly popular. And from what we saw, for very good reason. We were only going to be in the city for one night. As happens whilst long term travelling plans inevitably change and pivot. Our original intention had been to go to Slovenia and visit Lake Bled. However, logistically, and financially (travel budget remember), it wasn’t feasible. It would just make it so much harder for us to achieve the rest of the travel plan. Slovenia will just have to wait for another year.

So, we found ourselves exploring the beautiful city of Bratislava. With an old town that is compact and full of restaurants and bars. Bars selling great craft beer. The place has definitely been discovered. Not that it felt over touristed but there were plenty of people milling around, taking photos and having dinner out on the sidewalk cafes and restaurants. The old town had a vibrancy to it.  I even indulged in my love for local food. This time trying the “pressburg crackling bun”, a strange little pastry made with bacon fat. I know, it sounds odd. And it was. A little. But I will never die wondering.

Sadly, we were only here for the day and overnight. We enjoyed a local dinner of pierogi with a glass of wine before strolling back to our apartment up by the train station. A location chosen strategically as the airport bus goes from right across the road. We would be taking the short ride to the airport in the morning for our next destination. And another new country for both of us.

We were bound for Albania. Our first airport in quite some time. There is a reason for this. More on that later.

And in to Hamburg

Our first visit to Scandinavia finished with us checking out of the Comfort Hotel and crossing Central Station to find the Flixbus stop. It was time to leave Malmö. And Sweden. We had a six hour journey ahead of us. On a bus. Not something to be savoured. Our next destination was to be Germany and we were headed to Hamburg, a city neither of us had been to previously.  Although Victoria will be adding a new country to her list.

Sweden had been very good to us with the weather. Sun. Blue skies. And warm. A few hours into the Flixbus journey we were once again crossing the border. Yes, that imaginary blue line again. Did the world know that this blue line existed? As if by magic, when crossing into Germany, we had dark clouds and light rain. 

Exploring Hamburg

The bus circled Hamburg Central Train station and shortly afterwards was dropping us off at the bus station. This part of town looked a little sketchy. And we had chosen not to stay at a hotel too close to here. This was further confirmed when looking at Google reviews of potential places to stay and some had photos of what people were claiming were drug drops right outside their hotel.

We widened our search and this is how we found ourselves 30 minutes later walking through the back streets of Hamburg to check into the Premier Inn. Something that felt familiar. Staying at a Premier Inn is something that many people in the UK will be familiar with. Yes, very generic. Not too exciting. And a great place to base ourselves for the next two days as we explore Hamburg. 

Leaving the hotel the skies had brightened. We even had sun. A perfect time to explore and we started at the town hall. Known locally as the “rathaus”, Hamburg Town Hall dominates the city centre. Built in 1886 to replace the previous town hall that had been destroyed in the great fire of 1842, it took a full 44 years before it was finished. We were able to walk in and through the courtyard, marvelling at the fountain dedicated to Hygieia as the goddess of health and hygiene in Greek mythology. The fountain was built in remembrance of the cholera epidemic of 1892.

Getting thirsty we headed across the square from the Town Hall looking for a beer. We sat ourselves in a little street side bar and had our first beer in Germany. Asahi, from Japan. We had hoped for something a little more local.  It would have to wait.

The Reeperbahn in Hamburg

Whilst in Hamburg we had read that a visit to the Reeperbahn was mandatory. What would be classed as the red light district we found the area to be more run down and tired looking than we expected. I found it all a little sad. One bright part of the visit though was discovering the football team based in the area, St Pauli. I hadn’t heard of Hamburg’s second team until our Flixbus ride. A guy on the bus had both a St Pauli shirt and baseball cap. Googling through the bus ride I discovered that they have a storied history. How many football clubs have a second “official” badge that is a skull and crossbones? 

Hamburg football rivalry

Whilst in the city I had to pay a visit to the club shop of the most famous football club in the city. A club graced by the one and only late Kevin Keegan. SV Hamburg. Hamburg have been a team in my imagination ever since Keegan played for them. Becoming the Balon D’Or winner. In consecutive years in 1978 and 1979, sadly losing in the 1980 European Cup final.  

Hamburg, like much of Germany, has a lot of history. A lot of it is related to the various wars. We visited the St Nikolai memorial and were in awe of how the tower still remains standing despite everything around it being destroyed in the second world war. What remains is now a monument to peace. When visiting these types of places around the world I always wonder why we need the atrocity before we call for peace. 

Berlin

You can’t travel through Germany without having these conversations. Our next destination, Berlin, was no different. I had previously had a very fleeting visit to Berlin. In 2006. When I flew in with a couple of mates to savour the atmosphere of the 2006 World Cup final, held in the city. I remember very little of that trip so I was seeing the city as if for the very first time.

What I do remember is the size of the city. And this hit home when our bus dropped us at Alexanderplatz. As the navigator for our world travels it was my job to locate ourselves so we knew where our accommodation was. I checked Google Maps. Then checked again. Almost a one hour walk to the hotel. A hotel I thought we had chosen for its excellent location. The problem was that the excellent location, near Berlin train station, was a long walk from where the bus had dropped us. And off we went again, trundling our bags behind us as we both tried to keep smiling.

Once at the hotel, almost an hour later, we were indeed in an excellent location. And it was our base for the next two days for us to explore Berlin. Brandenburg Gate was on our doorstep as was the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, a very moving place to spend quiet time. 

The Berlin Wall

The Berlin Wall separated East from West Germany between 1961 and 1989 and no visit to Berlin is complete with a trip to the Berlin Wall Memorial. A time in history that in retrospect looks unbelievable. That someone would decide to build a wall to keep citizens of the same city apart from each other. Reading of the history of that period, the Cold War and Checkpoint Charlie, brings back memories of football tournaments over the years that have included teams from countries that no longer exist. Such as Yugoslavia. And how it broke down with the death of Tito as various nations proclaimed independence. New lines were drawn on the world map.

Being in Germany we had to visit a bierkeller. We were getting by on a steady diet of bratwursts washed down with strong German beer. How much fun it would be to be back later in the year to experience Oktoberfest. That bucket list item will have to wait for another trip. 

The longest World Cup in history continues

Coinciding with our stay in Berlin was the huge World Cup match between England and Mexico. I knew we couldn’t get it anywhere to watch, with the kick off being at 2am local time. I did set my alarm and woke up to listen on the radio. However, on waking up I heard that due to the weather conditions the game had been pushed back an hour. Bleary eyed, I just gave it up and went back to sleep. It was to be later in the morning when I discovered that we had a last eight match versus Norway.

We didn’t know where we would be for this next match, but we did know our next destination. It was back to the bus station. We had a four and half hour Flixbus ride to the capital of the Czech Republic. Prague, we are coming for you.

Scandinavia tour continues as we travel to Gothenburg

Cast your mind back to the end of June. Yes, the World Cup was still on. Remember that? If you are English, how could you forget? When we last spoke it was as we left Norway. After a seven hour train ride into Oslo, a quick overnight in a city centre hotel, we were off again. Trundling our bags through Oslo to Central Station. It was time to explore another new country. New for us both. Our destination was Sweden, and specifically the city of Gothenburg. In a change from our usual Flixbus, today we were on a double decker Vy, a local bus company, for the three and a half hour journey.

As long as I have travelled what has always fascinated me is the concept of “borders’. That in times gone by, someone (usually a man) looks at a map of the world, gets his pen out, and draws lines. If you are on one side of the line you are in country A. And country B if you live the other. Not only is this completely mind boggling, the fact that humans think they own mother earth and have the right to carve it up as they see fit. But, also the fact that whole swathes of cultural identity gets created depending on which side of an arbitrary line you are on.

You think you have too small a piece of the pie? Invade next door and re-draw your line. Ludicrous. And is happening as we speak. Across the world. I digress. What is very obvious when you travel the world is that there are no actual lines. No real borders. They are just a construct. Again this is brought into sharp relief as I track our bus journey on my phone, through Google Maps. Watching the blue line as the bus crosses the “border” into Sweden. A change of language. A change of culture. Different foods. Different currencies. Even though both Norway and Sweden are in the EU they both maintain their own currency, choosing not to adopt the euro. All this because we crossed an invisible line. It blows my mind.

And to think that for many years, Norway and Sweden were joined. Classed as one entity. It is a long and complicated history and in 1905 they separated peacefully.

Gothenburg

We arrived in Gothenburg to glorious weather and had an easy fifteen minute walk to Hotel Heden. Across the street from the Ullevi stadium where Manchester United were to play some weeks later. My timings were off, obviously. Built for the 1958 World Cup, Ullevi stadium has also hosted motorcycle speedway, second only to the old Wembley Stadium in London for hosting World Championships. Halifax’s own Kenny Carter won a World Pairs championship in 1983 riding with Peter Collins.

We weren’t here for the football or the speedway. We were here for our first taste of Swedish culture and the famed “fika”, the beloved morning coffee break enjoyed all across the country. Also, we were hoping that Sweden was a little less pricey than its neighbour. It turns out it was. 

How do you like your eggs?

Our base for a couple of nights, the Hotel Heden, a rather dated looking hotel that had plenty of charm. Unusually, we had breakfast included in our booking, something that I enjoyed a lot more than Victoria. I love seeing what mish mash hotel breakfast buffets have to offer. In hotels that are far from “top end” this often leaves a lot to be desired. My happy place is when I can get fried eggs and some toast. I had to settle for soft boiled in Gothenburg.

Gothenburg is a port city and we set off exploring. Walking to the water front through the many squares that litter the compact city centre. Stopping for a beer I couldn’t help but notice how many pubs seemed to have the same name. The “John Scott’s”. Researching it later it turns out that it is a chain of pubs, think of Wetherspoons in the UK, with each John Scott pub fitted out, or themed, slightly differently. Whatever the pub was called I was just glad to see that the price of a pint had dropped. Significantly.

Speaking of beer, like in Norway there are restrictions on buying alcohol in shops and supermarkets. And in Sweden it was even more restrictive. Beer sold in shops could only be up to a maximum of 3.5 per cent. What we would call “mid strength” at home in Australia. And just like Norway, you could only buy wine and spirits in government owned shops.

Gothenburg is best explored on foot and I highly recommend you walk through the historic Haga neighbourhood. If only for one of their famous kanelbulle. A pastry the size of your head. And definitely for sharing. Keep walking, to burn off the calories, and visit the Slottsskogen park. Beautiful large park with lots of wildlife.

We enjoyed Gothenburg, and our first taste of Swedish culture. As we watched England beat Panama 2:0 late in the evening our thoughts turned to the next day. A day that would see us on the move again. This time a shorter trip. And staying in Sweden. We were off to the home of Zlatan.

Moving on to Malmö

Malmö is a city I had almost visited a few years earlier. On a trip to Copenhagen with friends we discovered that Malmö is less than an hour from Copenhagen. We didn’t make it but I was about to make up for lost time. Our 11.15am bus had us into Malmö three hours later. Located right on the sea you have sweeping views across the water to Denmark. You can follow the bridge as it links the two countries. A bridge we would cross by train a couple of days later as we had a day sightseeing in Copenhagen.

So far the World Cup had been playing havoc with our sleep schedule, with the matches on late at night. The match against DR Congo was slightly earlier and we found a city centre bar to watch it in. A bar with more TVs than customers. The only other customers in there were cheering on Congo. After trailing 0:1 for much of the match we were perhaps a little exuberant with our celebrations at the end. We had a match against host nation Mexico to look forward to.

Copenhagen

We didn’t have breakfast included in our Malmö stay. The Comfort hotel near Central Station was indeed comfortable but we had to venture out each morning for food. Thankfully filter coffee remains a thing in Scandinavia. Something I got used to in Norway. Going out for breakfast croissants the bakeries have a station for filter coffee. One even had its own mugs for you to use. If life is about the little things, this is one of the little things in life that warms my heart.

After coffee one morning we jumped on the train to Copenhagen for the day. A ride of one hour with the  train dropping you right at Copenhagen Central Station. This was Victoria’s first visit and we ticked off the usual tourist sights. The colourful houses of Nyhavn. The excellent food markets at Reffen. The rather underwhelming “attraction” that is The Little Mermaid.

Moving on from Malmö

Back in Malmö we reflected on our Scandinavian adventure. We had seen a lot in a short space of time. Norway from coast to coast and up the fjords. And a side of Sweden that you wouldn’t see if you stuck to Stockholm. Now our minds moved on to tomorrow’s destination. Across another “border” and into Germany.