Yesterday I visited a small place discretely hidden inside one of the old hutons (traditional narrow alleys) of Beijing. The owner was a friendly chap and recommended a place called the Banana Club. I was quite skeptical due to the corny name, but he wrote down the address in Chinese letters and we took a cab there.
I am currently back in Ulaanbaatar after sleeping some nights in a traditional ger tent at the Mongolian plains. After five days on the Trans-Siberian train, that freezing tent felt like pure luxury but right now I’m glad to be back in civilization (sort of) with an internet connection and a warm shower.
I got off the Trans-Siberian at 7 am after four nights of irregular sleep. While placing my dusty shoes on the pavement of the Ulaanbataar railway station, I looked around the area. When tired and hungry, you are an easy target for the shadowy existences walking around here. Luckily it is Sunday morning and the locals tend to sleep a lot.
I shared cabin with a Russian couple on a night train from Helsinki to Moscow earlier this week. They told me that a plane had crashed near Perm with 80 dead and some damage done to the Trans-Siberian railway. Since I was about to embark on the Trans-Siberian a few days later and pass the city of Perm, I was curious on how this would effect my journey.
As I walked across the cold cobblestones, I realized that the Red Square had been on my bucket list for decades. The onions of St Basil’s Cathedral and the walls of the Kremlin are well-known sights to most people and often featured in movies.
I just got back from a trip to Riga, the capital of Latvia. Apart from delicious Laima chocolate and lots of cobblestones, the city is home to a lethal brew with the somewhat mysterious name Black Balsam (or Melnais Balzams in Latvian).
The revered Bagpipe Bastards have just finished the Scotland branch of our worldwide tour. We came, we saw, we had a a fistful of haggis. The road was long and we covered about 1500 miles in a week with visits to uncountable cities, towns and villages.
The Isle of Skye is one of the most remote areas of Scotland, with the Hebrides archipelago around the corner. Despite narrow roads on hillsides with sharp turns and the occasional sheep on the road, it’s quite lovely to explore the island by car. The countryside is charming and some places even have coffee.
I know that I should stay away from pancakes after my sturdy Moroccan breakfasts a few weeks ago, but I happen to be in Amsterdam and it would be close to illegal to miss the infamous Pancake Bakery at Prinsengracht, just a few blocks from the Anne Frank house along the canal.
Essaouira feels very different than most other Moroccan towns. The usual smells are mixed up with a fresh ocean breeze and the layout is less chaotic with streets in a straight line. The ruckus of Marrakesh is but a memory.