48 Hours in Lisbon
The Portuguese in its heyday controlled the world. Today its legacy lives only through Brazil, the colony that will host both FIFA and Olympics in upcoming years as it vies for world-class status. (It itself has problems of a third-world country but growth of the first-world.)
View from the Castle
Portugal has remained outside of relevance. It resembles Spain of decades ago. It is poor, unconfident, unaspiring. It is the underperforming but not exactly misbehaving student in the class (until last week, at least, when the courts stopped dead any attempt at austerity). It has a tiring hatred of Spain, the bolder big brother that, if not for the banking and housing crises, would be a leading European country. After the dictatorships ended, Spain pulled away from Portugal in a most apparent pace. Portugal today is Spain thirty years ago. In many ways Portugal is like a Catalonia, but one that got away.
Church of Skulls, Faro
It is the last bailed-out country on my trip (Ireland, Spain, Greece; it would have been the full set had I predicted Cypriot troubles). It is probably the most concerning. The cheapest alcohol on my exchange came in the form of 500mL of wine for 2€. It has none of the vitality of its Spanish neighbors. The national dance move seems adequately summarized by the Portuguese phenomenon “Vem Dançar Kuduro” or "Oi Oi Oi".
Tomatoes at Taberna Moderna
Cheap Sangria
The food remains peasantly. Bread and water are forced upon you, some worth it and some not. Twice recommended Ramiro Restaurant, was on the sketchy "Green Line", and run by a chubby, smiling, conniving man out of some mafia movie. I had no mind to enjoy the food. Redemption came at Tasca da Esquina, the multi-coursed outfit of celebrity chef Vitor Sobral. A mix of squid, calamari and goodies from the sea stays classy amidst the generous dole of mushrooms and a mouth-filling eggplant puree. Four courses require no contemplation at 18€. Taberna Moderna had the best covert despite being free: an exploding impaled diced tomato covered with salt and herbs. Iberian ham (14€) is topped with potatoes and red peppers in grimy, home-cooked goodness; it is reminiscent of the forward flavours of Barcelona, though the Portugese chefs would never admit it.
Ler
The coolest strip in Lisbon is LX Factory. Read a book in Ler then get a delicious euphoria-inducing slice of chocolate cake at Landeau. Go over to Belém. for a look at the palace and, more importantly, creamy custards (a Portuguese specialty adulterated by Chinese dim-sum restaurants). Centre Lisbon has a stately Rossio square, a tilting Chiado (see the 5-star Toronto restaurant) and a harbourside promenade. Nearby, a fashion and design museum, Mude is a free visit. Stare at a bottom-dwelling flatfish with protruding eyes, or a feisty shark, or an innocuous (half annoyed and half unimpressed) turtle with the whole cast of Finding Nemo at the aquarium. Finally, go up the castle for a view of this glued-together city.
Sea Turtles, Oceanarium
Further south, life grinds to halt. Adult men play billiards midday on a Monday. Shops and attractions close for lunch or a siesta, not sure which. The Vodafone store is largely incompetent and cost me an exchange leading 27.50€ to stay connected over five days. An unnerving line of patrons developed, of all shapes and sizes. An unsmiling, despondent server calls her co-worker, sick from home, to fix the issue.
Tourists seem to go there for the relaxed pace of life, or for the cheap sangria (500mL for 6€). It is relaxed because there is some acceptance of the situation. It is cheap because of the situation. At a rally in Chiado, a poster decries the 0.1%. This is the most specific stratification yet. I feel deeply empathetic towards the other segments of the 1% who were too poor to be included. It is a sultry country with a less than sultry life.
48 hours in Greece
That the country was the recipient of three bailouts is barely noticeable until you dig a bit deeper. On the surface, the new subway cars stop at new subway stations. Google maps is well integrated. A lot of the architecture is ugly concrete blocks but a lot are redeeming. But troubles show through. The busses are either early or late but never on time. There is an inherent laziness or, rather, non-chalance that is unnerving. Restaurants are open around the clock but museums are parks close at 3pm. One desperate bar owner lured me in (I'm terrible at saying no) by telling me to come drop by that night, then proceeded to sell me orange juice (which I would've accepted had it been freshly squeezed). Upon my refusal, his next tactic was to send a good-looking waitress my way. When I said I wasn't thirsty, she asked me to buy her a drink.
View from Acropolis
Another solicitation arose from Greek Jehovah's Witnesses who spoke Chinese better than I. It is surely a helpful language to know to lure in the helpless migrants who can't speak English and want to feel included. It was a good chance to practice my Mandarin though. For the longest time I had no idea what they were attempting to do. I don't really know what Jehovah's Witnesses are other than that it's an extreme cult of Christianity, let alone how to say it in Mandarin. Needless to say they were surprised by my English or as they called it "Ko Yin" (accent).
That it is a poor country can be witnessed by the brand-new Areos hotel that cost 40€ a night or the feast you can buy for 20€. A carafe (25mL) of wine was 3€.
A SIM card for 11€ comes with 500mb, one of the best deals in the eurozone. An innovative idea that appeared in the letters of The Economist was that should Greece drop out of the euro, it should change completely to a mobile-phone currency. It then eliminates the tax evasion that brought the country to a standstill.
Greek Flag, Acropolis
Mount Hymettus
The way to manage the odd operating hours in Athens is to hold off on lunch until after 3pm. Then, on one day, you can reliably do the historical sights (flagshipped by the acropolis and the new acropolis museum) then do a trio of museums (benaki, Byzantine and Cycladic). They are all more or less free. The acropolis is indeed as grand as proclaimed. This homage to the patron-goddess of the city, Athena, is the focal point of Athens. It is quite the climb. Like the heroic defenders who spilt blood to defend the holy monument, I did as well though of a less courageous variety. I had been afflicted with the most unconscionable nose bleeds, maybe because of the altitude or the dry weather.
Some of the best moments of the city comes from strolling the vender-filled pedestrian streets. The flea markets near Monastiraki are particularly boisterous. Some subterranean shops have sharply decline staircases that induce the most severe claustrophobia. Most things are overpriced and bargaining is expected. I purchased a 14€ item for 10€. She said it was already marked down and I was happy with the price she quoted. I am not much of a bargainer, clearly.
If time permits, go to Mount Hymettus to prance around age-old monetaries and torn down basilicas. The views are worth the trip. (Take the 224 bus to the terminus stop, then walk up the hill). Then go to the other side of town to the harbor city of Piraeus. Walking down the habour gives you a feel of how desperate the Greeks really are. After a few steps another restaurateur asks you to dine at his deserted location. Still they are quite principled and directed me to my intended destination: Ammos restaurant for some seafood grub. For 18€, 500mL of wine, a Greek Salad, deep fried zucchini and mussels. I was certain they calculated the bill incorrectly so I tipped the waiters grandly.
Greek Salad, Ammos
Piraeus
The Greeks are still a prideful race. One security guard at the Acropolis screamed whole-heartedly to bring down a waver of a foreign flag. When asked what was the offending flag, he said that it didn’t matter. The only flag allowed at the Acropolis was that of Greece. A taxi driver (who gave me a 50€ taxi ride for the price of 10€) blamed the problems of Greece on politicians, bankers and immigrants. Until Greece becomes disillusioned, they will remain the sick man of Europe.
48 hours in Istanbul
Turkey has the longest standing application to the EU; it is still a matter of debate. On most things Turkey is European. By geography, it is closer to Europe than is the annoying Cyprus. Economically, it is stronger than any nation currently in the EU. Turkey's GDP rose by 8.5% in 2011 after a 9% increase in 2010. But it is definitively un-European because it is not Christian.
Asia Minor, from the Bosphorus
Asia Minor, form the Bosphorus
Asia Minor, from the Bosphorus
Historically, Turkey has always been the natural divide between the East and the West. Two straits: the Dardanelle (Hellespont) and Bosphorus (do the cruise) divide the continents. The Persian Wars was the first war between the two. The epic movie 300 depicted the Turks as some unworldly race with painful body piercings atop domesticated giant elephants. Divisions persisted: first with the split of the Roman Empire, which was based partially then wholly in Istanbul; then with the predominance of Islam that today persists and precludes the country from European membership.
Basilica Cistern
Bass at Kalamar
Istanbul was created (first as Byzantium, then as Constantinople) to rule the Eastern Roman Empire. Its nucleus is on the European side, as the Romans wanted; as a result, the city is oddly familiar. Despite the religious hollering on loudspeakers tantamount to American Idol auditions, and women in headscarves, the country is polyglot, liberal and accepting (as the Ottomans were). But some Asian tendencies show through. Most every conversation I had with the few English-speaking Turks led to a question of origin. Dissatisfied with my being “Canadian” (that is, indeed, where I am from), each and every one searched deeper for my provenance. Zealous restaurateurs (and troubled youth) shout out salutations in Asian languages, most commonly Japanese, but the occasional “Ni Hao” as well.
View from Artisse terrasse
The historical sights are a must: Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque, the Cistern and the Archeological Museum are all huddled together and can be done in half a day. Ominous spires stick out as though impaling the sky. They signpost the dome-dominated mosques that look like carbon copies in a real-life Assassin's Creed. Then hop over to the newer side of Istanbul to stroll down Istiklal Caddesi, have a Turkish coffee at Ada Cafe & Bistro and see some Modern Art (modern by any standards, not just Muslim ones) at Istanbul Modern. But you’ll notice, you are still isolated to the European side. So make sure you take the cruise down the Bosporus to see Asia-minor (2:30pm leaving from the south end of Galata bridge for 10 TL). For the night, there is an excellent view from Artiste Terasse.
For food, any restaurant is really as good as another. They are all similarly run-down and fly-infested but serve authentic Turkish food. Little candy shops around have Turkish delights of all shapes and sizes. Then there’s meat-on-a-stick and fish stands everywhere. None are worth recommending but they should all suffice.
Istabul is the only major city traverses two continents. It flirts with familiarity while remaining foreign. It is surely worth a visit, if not just to say you’ve been to Asia on your Europe-crawl. That it was the ancient seat of the Roman Empire yet a Muslim strong hold for centuries afterwards is extra.
Nice, Cannes, Bordeaux, Versailles and other Regions of France
Paris is France and France is Paris. The two are essentially the same. Paris accounts for over half of the country's economic output and is by far the largest city by population. Many of the stereotypes of French inexplicability has nothing to do with the Italian-like consistently-tardy southerners of Provence, or the Anglophiles of Brittany, or the hardy no-nonsense beer guzzlers of the East, or the always-smiling wine growers of Bordeaux. But these other stereotypes don't matter because Paris is France and France is Paris. And when a city is as notoriously famous and unparalleled in scope, it has the right to be a bit cocky.
That doesn't mean the rest of France isn't worth a visit. Together they can hardly compete with Paris. Each of the following cities can be reliably done in one day. Train is the best way to get to all of these places. But make sure you book your tickets well in advance, lest pay exorbitant prices. Also, away from Paris, English is sparse. French is helpful at most museums.
Versailles
Chateau Versailles
Take line C out to Chateau Versailles (Rive Gauche) or Versailles – Chantiers. If you’re going to see one royal palace in Europe, this is it. The palaces of the other royal families of Europe would be stables at Versailles.
Bordeaux
On Tap Wine @ Max Bordeaux
A 3-hour bullet train from Paris takes travelers to the most famous wine country in the world. But the city didn't live up to its name until a modernization project revitalized the coastline and transit system. A weary venture out to the suburbs has a Michelin star hidden for 25€ (La Cape). Then another irksome voyage takes you to some eerie warehouses turned to unconventional haute-art displays. One garage was filled with piles of junk so whether "art" was loosely interpreted was up for question. More important, at Max Bordeaux, fill up a card with 25€ and go absolutely wild. 25mL range from 0.50-25€ (bottles range from 10-700€. this is probably your only opportunity to try such expensive wines. Then have another glass with cheese and charcuterie at Le Bô Bar
La Cape
25€, 3 courses
Lille
A 30-minute ride from Paris with the Palais des Beaux Arts is all the rage. It has a manageable cross-section of French and European art including Rodin's sculpture with the twisted neck, also seen in Stockholm. Get cheese and charcuterie at La Cave Jacques Dumas and a beer at La Capsule in the Belgian tradition.
Nantes
It is 2 hours away nested deep in the Loire valley. Apparently the train ride is scenic (as is the bike ride if you so choose) but I missed it, arriving and leaving in the dead of night. The real sight here is the Château des ducs de Bretagne which has an excellent display of the World Wars (from a French perspective, a side rarely considered since histories are written by the victors) and a history of the city. Avoid Les Machines de l'île. It's a bit childish. To eat, Le Duo is “cheap and cheerful” option for lunch, as one commentator described.
Monaco
The petit casino and outdated architecture aren't what it is talked up to be.
Cannes
It doesn't really feel like France as it is dominated by tourists and foreign brands that cater to the rich and famous who come for the various shows at the Palais. Tonight, it's a fashion show; next month, the famed film festival. A line of restaurants, mostly Italian, are reasonably priced and have menus posted outside for your scrutiny.
Antibes
An odd triangle that juts out into the Mediterranean is a perfect viewing spot for the surrounding cities but it itself is a bit run down. The Picasso museum is worth visiting though.
Nice
Nice, view from chateau
As Italy encroaches, the values change. Punctuality, for example, is blatantly disregarded. One bus to Èze decided not to show up. Another was 40 minutes late. When asked a Frenchmen, he replied it's raining. Nevertheless, Nice is a sight to behold. From the Avenue of the Americas with its panoramic views of the Mediterranean to the Chateau (Castle Gill) with its panoramic views of the city, the menu of sights are plentiful. The best museum is the Chagall museum, a Russian-Jewish painter of the 20th century, twice-exiled and said (by Picasso) to be the master of colour.
Keisuke Matsushima
The search for Michelin stars takes us to Provence for a reasonably priced three-courses at the restaurant of the Japanese Chef of the French School, Keisuke Matsushima, who comes out to receive you after the meal. The patronage is a largely oriental and often Japanese speaking. The purée in urchin shell is a sight to behold, and easy to swallow. The risotto in a buttery cream had crispy thin-cut leeks and a ring of pea juice that is incredibly fun to clean up. The fish was a bit oppressed by the olive juice and had an uncertain bitterness that dulled the senses. The puff pastry shattered on contact and only repaired by the soft lob of caramel ice cream. By culinary standards, it was a reasonable if formulaic. But slow and forgetful service failed to live up the Michelin standard as proudly alluded to in its bathroom decorations.
43€, 3 courses
Risotto
Ombrine grillé, artichauts épneux sautée à cru, riquettes, olives noir de
Taggiasca, jus de diable (Umbrine)
Mille feuille
Flaveur
A small chunk of lamb is so tasty it requires the utmost rationing. Thankfully, there is a most delightful mushed eggplant topped with chickpeas and raisins. This favourite vegetable of the Italians is pulverized beyond recognition to act as sauce together with a laddle with a sweet marsala that runs capriciously through the contours of the eggplant.
28€, main and some snacks
Selle d’Agneau du Quercy laqué au tandoori / Aubergine au feu de bois /
Pressé d’épaule aux herbes fraîches / Jus corsé au masala (lamb, eggplant, herbs, marsala)
Chat Blanc Chat Noir
This tiny, dark restaurant in the old part of Nice is run by some wonderfully charismatic and hilarious restaurateurs. It takes us on a trip of its own. The Italian influences are sublime: the dish of small fish resembled the poignant salads of Rome. The generous cuts of tuna soaked up the lentil and olive oil for a definitively Niçoise dish. And finally, deliciously rich fois gras on toast is as French as it gets.
10€ for appetizers, 20€ for mains
Le Bistrot de la Marine
Michelin starred chef Jacques Maximin retires in Cagnes-sur-Mer at a seaside restaurant a a few minutes outside of Nice. The patio is sunny and great for people watching (namely beach-loving pedestrians). The food is ridiculously overpriced because the normal 25€ formule was unavailable. That the French can put a cheap menu on a website and not have it is tantamount to a bait-and-switch, especially when the restaurant is as out of the way as this one. Admittedly, the fish is resoundingly fresh. But in a bouillabaisse, the flavours aren’t as salient.
45€, three courses
48 Hours in Oslo; Stockholm
Oslo has the distinction of bearing no significance until recent history. In 1850, it had a measly population of 30,000 and grew only to 230,000 by 1900. Its fame derives from its recent discovery of oil, leading to its becoming the premier city in the world for standard of living and cost of living. It is the Middle East of Europe but it has not been complacent. It recognizes that the oil will dry and it must develop sustainable industries. Its oil-support and shipbuilding industries are the best in the world.
An Island near Oslo
Royal Palace, Oslo
Skansen
It is a painfully expensive city to live in. A can of coke at the store costs 25 NOK ($5); an unspectacular croissant is 32 NOK ($6). Transfers from the airport are 160 NOK ($29) and a single-ride bus ticket is 30 NOK ($5). The young and hip sip one of the 14 microbrewery beers on tap (they must sip, else pay a fortune) at Grünerløkka Brygghus for around 69 NOK ($13). It is in the Thorvald Meyers Gate working-class area. To keep your shirt on, refrain from alcohol in Nordic countries. They have a history of prohibition and then exorbitant taxes that give drunkards headaches. Also, the Oslo Pass (220 NOK = $40) is useful. It includes a day pass to the transit system, the ferries to the islands and all museums worth seeing.
Oslo is the cross-section of idyllic nature-scapes and culturally relevant museums. A short ferry ride out to the peninsula reveals a bucolic, pristine land of ice and snow. It could be the set of Game of Thrones (which is actually filmed in Iceland).On the islands nearby, most famously the Hovedøya Island, rocks like sleeping giants have eye-popping monopoly-houses jutting out at varied elevations and at awkward angles. A plane ride reveals a sparsely inhabited Norway where the first signs of spring are showing through. The melting ice in the rivers are like aged porcelain that crack randomly yet uniformly with time.
The museums everywhere are a testament to this rich country’s newfound interest in the arts. Munch and Ibsen, the most famous figures of the insignificant Norway of their times, are prominently displayed. The National Gallery has a room with Munch’s Madonna and The Scream. It also showcases The Thinker and rooms of works by famous impressionists. The Ibsen museum is a neglected reconstruction of the famous playwright’s former home across from the palace. Guided tours, which generally leave on the hour, connect the writer’s abode to his subject and to his themes. On the peninsula: the Norsk Folkemuseum is an open air trip through history with a domineering, dark toned church; the Kon-Tiki museum showcases the eponymous raft that journeyed across the oceans. A few more sights to quickly glance at are the Royal Palace, Opera with a sloping and accessible roof and Vigeland Sculpture Park.
Oro Bar
300 NOK, 3 course lunch
The food is overly expensive. So the cheaper offsprings of notable restaurants present a compelling compromise between price and quality. Michelin approved good-value restaurant Oro Bar (offspring of former 1-star Oro) is modern-chic with bar-like tables from which well-to-do patrons casually drink overpriced wine. The bread is served with some extension of the yellowy Swedish sauce with hints of curry; it is to die for. The cauliflower soup adorned by shaves of chorizo had a muted bitterness that delivered full body. The Norwegian Salmon with dill smelt like plane food; instead it was a perfectly cooked bastion of freshness in a sweet squash purée. But most impressive were the pebbles of pomegranate that itself regulated the baseness of the fish. Unfortunately, the three specks of chocolate that were “dessert” were unacceptable and derailed the entire meal. At Lille B (offspring of Bagatelle), DIY combinations included one of tuna and saffron risotto. The risotto was rich and colourful. Further inspection revealed a piece of shrimp hidden in the middle, a happy lagniappe. Four thickly sliced medallions of tuna on arugula justifies the 200 NOK ($36) price tag if it had not tasted intolerable. The idea was to make a sour vinaigrette for the arugula which would soak the tuna in citrusy goodness but the result was a bland mush. The lady beside me asked for salt. I asked for balsamic vinegar.
Lille B (closed)
200 NOK for tuna & saffron risotto
So the food in Oslo can be better, not least so that it can justify the sky-high rates it goes for. Yet the overall experience in the city was resoundingly positive. There is a culture of mutual respect to one and all, regardless of place. People expect the best from one another. The honour system is widespread: passes on ferries and trains are loosely checked; coffee service has jars on the side for payment; I flew to Stockholm without getting out my passport.
Cracked Ice, Oslo
Concert Hall, Stockholm
Stockholm is the more sophisticated cousins of the burly Vikings. Their stately squares have concert halls (where the Nobel Prize is presented) and royal residences, both of which have excellent guided tours, are the result of its power in the 17th century when it conquered half of the Holy Roman Empire in the Thirty Years' War. It has a richer history, and therefore the city is noticeably older than Oslo. Today, Sweden is far from a world power, but is has good hockey teams and furniture. Its economy, like its Nordic neighbours, is also thriving.
It is also noticeably less expensively than Norway because its currency is 10% weaker. But the Stockholm card (which is worth getting) is a painful $100, and includes all museums and a two-day pass on the transit system. In the winter, the short days are mirrored by flimsy business hours (closings at 3pm – 5pm), meaning some rigorous planning is necessary. One simple half-day trip is to Djurgården, a nature-filled island a stone-throw away from city centre. Cross-country skiers glide through the melting snow. It is a common equation in an otherwise distinguished land of half-frozen rivers, moribund trees and expansive plains. Start with the museums on the east (Nordic Museum, Vasa Museum, and whatever in that area that floats your boat), then cross through Skansen, an open-air historical museum to get to Rosendals Trädgård. Beside greenhouses with exotic plants is one filled with picnic tables. A healthy layout of desserts is a splendid sight after much weary trekking. A small kitchen serves hearty fare to a predominantly Swedish clientele. Today, most people seem to be transfixed on a dark orange tomato soup but I went for a sprawling brisket. Despite the meat, vegetables so fresh that they might have been grown in situ defined the meal. For once, skin-on carrot actually tasted good. The final stop on the island is Thielska Galleriet, a boutique art gallery that currently has an exposition on Munch. Other museums to consider are the Swedish History Museum for a quick brush-up on Nordic history, Fotografiska for a display of some great and not-so-great photographs and the Hallwyl Museum, an attempt to make historical fashions edgy (undergarments and all are showcased).
Pelikan
180 SEK for meatballs
Illums Bolighus has intriguing knickknacks reminiscent of Swedish design; just don’t tell anyone it’s based on Copenhagen. Also, walk down old town to get to Sodermalm and take a view of the main island from the Northern coast.
Rosendals Trädgård
200 SEK for main and dessert
The food in Stockholm is a far leap from the dollar breakfasts at IKEA. The meatballs at Pelikan (180 SEK) are fifteen times more expensive but were a juicy delight to chew through. Go early, lest wait an hour for the table. For something more formal, Ulla Winbladh is a cottage-like signpost on Djurgården island that serves traditional Swedish fare with an innovative spin (2 courses at 335 SEK). To start sashimi bass in a beautifully light and tangy mayo; on top, crispy bacon, herbs and fish roe. Then, veal medallions on a red wine vinegar reduction. The results were fine but the bass was a bit salty (like many things in these parts) and the veal tasted as did many that came before it.
Ulla Winbladh
335 SEK for 2 courses
The espresso bars also tend more towards the English standard of crispy lattes on trendy wooden bar tables. At Kaffebrenneriet (Oslo), the latte comes in a bowl, allowing for the art to stretch into a beautifully enlarged heart. At Mellqvist Kaffebar (Stockholm), trendy patrons sit on bar stools to sip lattes with asparagus topped bars. Decaf is still difficult in these parts, as grinds are taken from a cheap grinder.
Kaffebrenneriet
Mellqvist Kaffebar
The Nordic countries are expensive but so would be the Eurozone had its currency not collapsed. With the high price comes a prevailing sense of quality in every corner. Flying out of the distant Ryanair airport of Skavsta, my 90 minute bus ride had uninterrupted 3G service. Free wifi was on the plane trip from Oslo to Stockholm. A pervasive calmness takes over. Three brawny men sat beside me at lunch and talked in hushed voices in an ever-so composed manner. Arguing and rowdiness is strongly disreputable. In a world full of shouting, brinksmanship and acting, much can be learnt from the Nordics.
72 Hours in Dublin: Pilgrimage to St. Patrick's Day
The Queen Commerce diaspora of unprecedented proportion (~80) congregated in Dublin for the religious holiday of some Irish patron saint. The motivation was far from righteous but lightheaded enlightenment, heroic determination, and pseudo-religious experiences were nonetheless widespread. Between the lively boisterousness and the well-meant aggression, the mentally fortified slept for not more than ten hours over the three-day period. The rest fell down to rise up half-awake with friendly support (aka peer pressure). They dealt with plumber cracks and drug addicts in jam-packed party hostels and found slivers of wifi to organize meet-ups. But even the most disconnected bumped into familiar faces on the alleys of Dublin.
Ireland is known for famine, revolution and writers. It was poor until its high-powered growth through the 1990s and 2000s when it had the highest growth of any Eurozone nation and earned “highest standard of living” from the Economist in 2005. So Dublin is ultra-modern with sleek airports and high-tech trams. Yet the unfettered capitalism has its limits. The competitive tax rate reveals an environment too friendly to business. The transport system is a mess of disparate privatized networks that do not share passes. The debt-fueled asset-bubble fell with the Debt Crisis, leaving Ireland the recipient of one of the six (soon to be seven?) European bailouts. The bailout saved it and Ireland will once again go to the markets with full strength.
Doors near Merrion Square
St. Stephen's Green
This gives Ireland a curious contrast between old and new. Between pints: St. Stephen’s Green is a serene haven surrounded by rambunctiousness; Oscar Wilde’s house is among a row of resplendent doors that surround Merrion Square; nearby, the National Gallery showcases Irish art among specks of European masterpieces. For pints, the Guinness Storehouse is a sensory overload of a commercialized brand-building exercise and serve free samplers on each floor. For a micro-brewery, Porterhouse has three stouts, four ales and three lagers. It also has great food for the sort of environment.
Food in Dublin is surprisingly varied and attributable to the modernization movement it experienced with the English-speaking world. It tastes like London or even Toronto. Crackbird serves a bucket of chicken coated in a raucous mélange of fiery sauces that compete for dominance. Most popular is half a chicken smothered in Soy Garlic for 12€ or a full one for 20€. In standard Anglo-Saxon hipster tradition of unapologetic plate settings, a peculiarly perky lemonade goes for 4€ and comes in a reused jar. It is a welcome change from uninterrupted beer guzzling.
Winding Stairs
26€, two courses
North of the river, a stone-throw from Temple Bar, is a cozy new-Irish restaurant called Winding Stairs with its own bookstore (an Irish novelty) on the ground floor. Walking up a narrow staircase, the rustic dining hall is planked with dark floors and decorated with scribbles on chalkboards and clipboard menus. The prix-fixe goes for 26€ is two-courses; add 5€ for dessert and 4€ for a glass of wine. To start, traditional black pudding is coated in a crispy skin and smothered in sweet applesauce. The salad is aromatic in herbs and topped with crispy pig ears. To follow, perfectly cooked beef liver is not a mushy mess but instead lusciously smooth in a potent beet sauce.
I am ever impressed with the Irish. Between the dingy pubs, espresso bars serve better coffee than anywhere in continental Europe. Bewley’s has some impressive latte art; it does not in any way resemble “Irish Coffee”. The people are warmhearted. A sim-card mess up left me lost without internet. The service centre promptly loaded my phone up with an extra 500mb for no extra charge. For the return flight, both my friend and I slept through an alarm, and were rushing to make the bus to the airport. Without any money, I had to appeal to the other bus patrons, who resoundingly came to my rescue. I made the plane with no time to spare; though I would’ve loved to stayed longer.
72 Hours in Budapest
Budapest is the most overrated city in Europe. Indeed, the hilly Buda is a sight of monumental proportion. It looks like a cluster of mismatching fortresses grew out of some sleeping stone giant. From these bastions, a look over at the enormous parliament building in Pest reminds of some imposing stronghold of fairy-tale lore. Gellert Hill has a magnificent view down the Danube. But all of this is a façade. The majesty ends at the walls and roofs. Inside is the run-down result of perennial warring and suffering.
Parliament from a Danube boat cruise
Hooligans (1)
Run-down
A prevailing sense of sketchiness takes over. A hooligan stick his heads out of streetcars like a dog might as his amused spectators cheer him on; ticket control who barricade every subway entrance (in place of an automatic system used by any modern city) are fixated on an empty beer can rolling endlessly on an escalator; drunkenness is pervasive. The Czechs are known for their work-ethic; the Hungarians are not (a point brutally raised by a recent prime minister).
Buda is a land of hills and river. Such made it an ideal settling place and of military importance. It is a hot potato that was thrown between Romans, the Huns, Mongols, Turks, Hapsburgs, Nazis and Communists. Buda castle is said to have “withstood” over fifty invasions. The city was effectively destroyed at every hand off, making most “historical” sights the result of restoration. For this reason, it has no distinct culture and it starts feeling like a cheap copy of its constituent influences. Most notable copies are of Vienna, during the extensive period of Hapsburg rule.
Museums are pitiful. The Hungarian National Museum is cold, dark and dreary with nothing of any historical importance. At the Budapest History Museum, little pieces of stone are pasted on a picture of an arch, completing no more than five percent of the original. The Fine Arts museum advertises the famous Egon Schiele self-portrait that I saw at the Leopold in Vienna. At the hospital in the rock, a Hungarian diefenbunker of sorts, tours are done bilingually instead of split into two distinct ones. This all makes it seem as though the Hungarians have no artistic or historical significance.
After a failed revolution in 1848, Hungarian Count Gyula Andrássy had to sleep with the Empress of Austria, Elisabeth or Sissy, to be treated as equal in the empire. So in 1867, the Austro-Hungarian Empire was created, only to dissolve fifty years later. It ended up on the wrong side of both world wars. Hungarians were forced to sign a treaty of defeat (Trianon, 1920) instead of gaining independence respectably, as it would have had it stayed in the shadows. It then became a battle ground between Hitler, who ruled until 1945, and Stalin, whose regime ruled thereafter until 1989. Tragedy has left its mark. On the shores of the Pest side near the parliament, shoes commemorate the third worst faring Jewish population during the Holocaust. It would have been worse had it been a conquered nation (as Poland and Russia were) instead of an ally.
Shoes on the Danube
Parliament
Liszt's Apartment
The country is fixated on Franz Lizst, the virtuoso pianist who is really only known today for his “Hungarian Rhapsodies.” I prefer another Hungarian, Béla Bartok, a student of a student of Lizst and composer of such vivacious pieces as Poco a poco pui vivace, a song I have placed on repeat since hearing it at Paris’s Salle Pleyel. Devoid of performances at a legitimate hall over the weekend, I settled for an over-priced, touristy performance at St. Stephen’s Basilica (named the Hungarian King, not the religious figure of the superior Viennese church). The standard repertoire of Air (Bach), Rejoice (Handel), Four Seasons (Vivaldi), Ave Maria (Schubert) left something to be desired. And that it took place in a church with non-existent acoustics did not help.
The Market Hall looked like a local joint but the second floor was a tourist trap. On one occasion, a cabbage roll heated up was still cold in the middle. It broke apart in a most unbecoming manner. It was borderline disgusting. Unsatisfied, I tried a shop next door, which sold an equally unappetizing sausage, microwaved and plastic-like. But overall, the food was good. Oddly enough, it was the touristy locations that made the best impression. The Michelin starred restaurants cost $100+ for a meal, an indulgence too dear for me and for real Hungarians. But there are an extensive selection of $20-30 eats that fit the bill.
Borkonyha
Farm raised chicken oyster and breast with lentils and baby zucchini 3,150 Ft
Chocolate dessert 1,300 Ft
At Borkonyha. 6000 HUF ($27) gets you wine, dinner and dessert at a top gastronomical institution. The chicken breast was a juicy delight, sitting in a bed of lentils and al-dente zucchini so thin they resembled bamboo stalks. A few crunch falafel-esque pieces composed a rare interlude. Then, a playful dessert, fine to every little detail: the yellowy orange reflects off the bloody grapefruit; chocolate comes in crumbles or smoothly in the mouse or embedded as little rocks between the bread. It was truly a thoughtful creation unparalleled in its price range.
Later, at a gastronomical fair, 900 HUF ($4) gains admittance to a culinary wonderland. Cheese, goulash, wine, cold-cuts are sold at rock-bottom prices or are free. Needless to say, it was an efficient way to intoxicate oneself (wines were $1 a glass). For Brunch at Gundel, 6400 HUF ($30) gains admittance to an all-you-can-eat frequented by the Pope. A ridiculous line of regenerating food can cause the most severe excitement and later, self-flagellation from the clear inexistence of self-control.
But like the city, the cracks show through. Waiters are either stuck-up, as they are at a top-tier restaurant like Gundel, or overly participatory and tip-mongers at lesser establishments. At Menza, a restaurant I simultaneously traversed from the evening concert as did some of my fellow countrywomen, failed to caramelize the duck’s skin so it reminded of what hangs from the windowsills of Chinese butchers. At Café Kor, the Caprese Salad came with butter (why?) instead of with balsamic.
Despite its extensive history, the city is still immature. It tries to recover from the subjugation it was forced under. It is full of luxuries (the Four Seasons hotel or the architecturally important Gallert Hotel) but also full of misery in every corner. Desperate homeless people, often disfigured, hide in every corner. Streetcars, busses and subways are crowded, ramshackle locomotives that look about to fall apart at the seams. Garbage bins are perennially overflowing. The disparity between the rich and poor is troubling and manages to dampen any touristy pursuit. Indeed, restaurants advertise a “tourist-menu” like it is supposed to be a good thing. Budapest has nice hills, from which there are nice views but only until you take a closer look.
72 Hours in Vienna
From marginalized Prague, I hop back to the heart of Europe in the Austrian capital of Vienna. Geography is a great shaper of history and culture but Austria is a sore thumb. It leans eastward (“öst”, the German for east) but is culturally congruent with the west, unlike the Slavic nations that it borders. This similarity is rooted in the Hapsburg’s vying for cultural supremacy against its influential, rich, western relatives. For the greater part of classical Europe, Paris ruled the west and Vienna controlled the east. It is by no coincidence that the two most famous treaties of history are the Peace of Paris (1919, after WWI) and the Congress of Vienna (1815, after Napoleon). The two cities almost mirror each other with Vienna as a miniature Paris. Within the ringstraße created from torn down armaments are an unassailable selection of churches, palaces, museums and concert halls. Outside the city, Schönbrunn (do the guided tour, 15€) copies Versailles. Marie Antoinette was cast out of Schönbrunn at the tender age of 14 to wed and make peace in Versailles. All this makes Austria oddly closer to France than Germany.
Hofburg Area
Schönbrunn Palace
Hofburg
Richly adorned architecture that makes Vienna a most beautiful city in Europe is directly traceable to its Golden age. Today, the buildings have been put to good use, housing museums like: Kunsthammer of Kunsthistoriches Museum, a display of glittery opulence; the Naturhistorisches Museum, where the tiny Venus of Willendorf rests near the gigantic skeleton of a Diplodocus long neck; the Leopold, Kunsthalle and Mumok art museums that occupy the former Spanish stables; Belvedere Palace, for an invigorating stroll; and the enchanting Austrian National Library, which has 200,000 books from the 16th century and onwards. Museums are not expensive but add up quickly (5-10€ for students).
Vienna National Library
The wealth in Austria also guaranteed a strong patronage in music. Such patronage was lucky to coincide directly with the classical era of music and such renowned composers as Mozart, Beethoven and Haydn, the three cornerstones of the Viennese School of Music (which is as much a school as the Keynesian School of Economics is). Strolling through Stadtpark, statues of Schubert and Strauss commemorate even more storied names of musical classicism. Concerts are ubiquitous and often sold out. Crash one early and ask for a student ticket. You may get lucky.
Opera
On one night, the opera had seven student rush tickets. I was the tenth to arrive so had to settle for a 4€ standing room spot. At the overture, the parterre is a can of sardines with dumbfounded tourists bending to see either the stage or read the captions. By the first aria, a mass exodus has returned the observatory to a normal capacity. Stingy music connoisseurs replace the half-hearted. Atop aching legs, the view is excellent.
Urbanek
Naschtmarkt
The food is an odd mix of German grub and French refinement. Beer, snitzel and sausage can be easily found on the mile-long Naschmarkt and are cheap, tasty and altogether formulaic. Instead, opt for the claustrophobic Urbanek, where a chatty epicure proudly shows his memorabilia of Anthony Bourdain and Wolfgang Puck and then shaves varieties of cold cuts for you to sample. With famous Austrian white wine (some say the best in the world) and cheese, it comes to 19€.
Urbanek
19€ for wine, cheese and cold cuts
For sit down: Motto am Fluss looks out to the Danube Canal; Décor (on Augartenstraße) has a 7€ lunch menu, this time a clean-tasting pan-fried fish in a buttery sauce with potatoes; Skopik und Lohn has perfectly cooked chicken and playfully lumpy gnocchi. At Gasthaus Pöschl, beets to soak up the fresh mozzarella in an innovative Caprese salad. After, mushy beef liver is served in an addictive stew-like sauce.
Décor
7€ Lunch
Cafés are an important fixture. Intellectuals like the psychoanalysts that gave Vienna the title “city of dreams” attended them. They are mostly fungible but some with a history include Café Braünerhof, Café Sperl and Café Landtmann. They generally all do cheap drinks and traditional Austrian desserts (which are well-known and overrated). For something more contemporary, Phil is a bookshop turned Café.
View from Ferris wheel
Vienna is the last outpost of the west. From the top of the tacky Riesenrad (Ferris wheel), bear witness to the centre of the long-standing empire that shaped modern Europe and crumbled less than a hundred years ago. It held off the Ottomans (twice) and created a balance of power for the centuries prior to WWI. It was a polyglot centre of cultural expression and innovation and a destination for artists. Today, it mostly keeps out of world affairs, having been too involved with it in the past century. It was the primary aggressor of WWI and a willing participant in Anchluss. The Allies gave it to Hitler mostly because they considered it a natural addition to Germany. Odd, because you will not believe this country is German.
48 hours in Prague
The Slavs have always held an awkward position in Europe. They have been consistently picked on, subjugated and disrespected. Vampires were invented to fuel anti-Slavic sentiment among belligerent nations. The Slavs were the primary cause of the First World War and gained widespread independence thereafter. Hitler saw them as an inferior race and pursued a policy of Lebensraum to restore the “living space” to its rightful, Aryan rulers. Afterwards, their territories became a major theatre for the Cold War.
View coming down from Prague Castle
This history suggests the Czech Republic to be some rickety country ravaged by centuries of oppression, hanging on to life on a thread. This preconception leaves travellers in splendid awe of Prague. It is wealthy from its essential role in the Holy Roman Empire (it was the seat of Emperor Charles IV, after whom the famous bridge is named) and its importance in the wealthy Austrian empire. The city was reasonably unaffected 20th century wars (as Berlin was). The First World War made it stronger with the dissolution of Austria-Hungary. A small Czechoslovak Legion lost to history held off the Germans as well as the Bolsheviks after Russia withdrew from the war in 1918 (treaty of Brest-Litovsk), a contribution that directly assisted with the Czech plea for independence, received in 1920. In the Second World War, allied nations in the name of appeasement betrayed Czechoslovakia. Hitler’s annexation of the Sudetenland is appropriate by linguistic similarity but the takeover of Czechoslovakia proper was simply aggression. But because of its early ‘surrender’ and since Hitler didn’t bomb it on the way out (apparently, the only major city with this distinction), Prague remains pristine. The city is probably best known for the “Prague Spring”, a counter-communist movement that inspired Russia and its puppets to occupy the city until liberation in 1991. Soon after, the Czechs left behind its poorer brothers in Slovakia to form the country we know today.
These distinctions make Prague look way back in history when other Eastern cities seem fixated in recent history. It also makes Prague the most underrated city to most undiscerning travellers. From the many viewing platforms, a panorama of slanting earthy-red roofs fit perfectly into each other. Between them, the odd clock tower or church reaches up for the skies. A gushing river spanned by the most beautiful bridges runs through this landscape.
Lennon Wall
One hilly focal point east of the river is at the Prague Castle, centered by the St. Vitus Cathedral. Nearby, an Eiffel tower look-alike is stationed on Petrin Hill. It is 300 steps to climb with a view worth the effort. Pass the Lennon Wall (no, it is not named after Lenin) to get to picturesque Kampa island before loading onto the Charles Bridge to get back to Prague-centre.
In city centre, touristy attractions like the Astronomical Clock, Dancing House, Old Jewish Cemetery and Museum of Communism are all close-by and easy to visit. A little further away, the Zizkov Television Tower is a communist-style eye-sore with giant crawling babies as decoration, the DOX centre has offensive contemporary art, and Vysehrad castle is where the first king ruled from. All of this can conceivably be done in one day.
View from Astronomical Clock Tower
Czech food culture revolves around beer, which is always good and cheap (average 40 CZK ~ $2 for a pint). Such staples like beef “dumplings,” schnitzel and goulash need work. But at U Medvidku, there is a perfectly cooked duck breast for 250 CZK ($13). They also have the “world’s strongest beer,” X-33, which is a sugar and malt explosion worth trying and regretting. (“33” represents the “degrees” of the beer and is equivalent to 7/4 times the ABV percentage.)
Duck at U Medvidku
X-33 Beer at U Medvidku
As often as Prague has been brought down it has ascended with irrevocable fervor. The interwoven history and architectural prowess make Prague an essential city in Europe. It has the distinction of naïve beauty, made more beautiful by virtue of it not realizing itself as having.
River near museumsinsel
48 Hours in Berlin
Berlin is the most important city of the 20th century and also the most terrifying. It cannot be separated from the brutality of modern history nor does it want to be. Modern Berlin is a palimpsest that embraces the unruly history it has inherited and embraces it. The result is a cultural and artistic movement that seems to disavow any institution. Berlin is not socialist, not capitalist, not protestant, not catholic, not east, not west; it is a rebel’s paradise. At the East Side Gallery, a long remnant of the Wall decorated by graffiti artists, an assembly of youngsters blew horns and speakerphones at a crane about to tear down a section to build “luxury condos”. A rioter told me to take off my scarf that had been covering my face, or else risk being imprisoned as a troublemaker. At a bar on Kastanienallee, menus instruct guests to report any “right-wing” behavior, as they should racist remarks as if the two were equally deplorable.
East Side Gallery Demonstration
East Side Gallery, Quebec Wall
Berlin seems to reminisce about its history as much as it tries to forget it. Museums (170 of them in total) and memorials spring up to retell the latest chapter. The Stasi Museum, set in the old Stasi offices, provides a chilling account of the state police in East Germany, reminiscent of the excellent German movie Days of Our Lives. The DDR museum is a less impressive overview of East German life. The Holocaust Memorial and Topography of Terror looks at the Second World War. In Dresden, two hours away, the Military History Museum of the Bundeswehr and the Volkswagen Phaeton Plant are both worth seeing. Unfortunately, Berlin is still fixated on Hitler and Stalin, and fails to recognize the rich history it has before. For that, the most reliable exhibit is in the Deutsches Historisches Museum, which stretches back to the first Germanic tribes.
Stasi Museum
Pergamon Museum
Pre-20th century German history is rich and requires celebration. It grew outside the sphere of Rome (unlike France) and so kept its own culture and language. It led the Reformation and with the newly invented printing press propagated a people’s religion protected from the Vatican’s pretenses. In Westphalia, the treaty to end the Thirty Year’s War was signed and granted Europe a balance of power that was to last until Napoleon. And after, Bismarck defeated France to establish a united country in 1871, ten years after Italy did the same. It quickly surpassed all other nations militarily, including Britain, leading up to the First World War.
In the two World Wars, Germany effectively took on the entire world and almost won. It was blamed too vehemently for the First and too lightly for the Second. The First World War was caused by a string of automatic reactions to a terrorist group in the Balkans. To view the First World War as the result of German aggression is incorrect; it felt encircled (literally) by an entente and initiated a preventative war that could not be retracted. The Second World War, on the other hand, was completely Germany’s fault. Hitler was an easy scapegoat for Allied Nations who were more concerned of each other by 1945. So the German people, who elected Hitler, were saved from guilt.
Karl-Marx-Allee
Brandenburg Gate
Berlin lies deep in East Germany. West Berlin is a speck of capitalism surrounded by socialism, the reason why an “airlift” was required when Stalin blocked it off. The socio-economic composition of cities is a direct result of historical nuances. West Paris (think Champs-Élysées) is rich because it is closer to Versailles. West Germany is rich because it had a market economy. Compare, for example, the bustling Kurfurstendamm made in the image of Champs-Élysées in the West with the austere Karl-Marx-Allee in the East. The nondescript, utilitarian buildings of the soviet era are chilling.
Berlin is a sprawling metropolis. To go from the Stasi museum in the east to Rogacki, a great lunch spot in the West, requires almost an hour. Public transportation, though timely, is confusing because it has too many moving parts and because the city is too two-dimensional. To move close distances might require two or more transfers. So for short trips, the area to saunter around is Museumsinsel. All five museums (collectively 9€) are excellent, the best being the Pergamon. From there, it’s easy to walk up to Kastanienallee. Along the way are the best hipster cafés (the Barn), drinks (Weinerei Forum) and restaurants (Bandol sur Mer). On Kastanienallee, the Canadian chef at Der Imbiss serves Indian-inspired fast food under the auspices of an upside-down McDonald’s logo. Pratergarten, further down the street, is the oldest drinking house in the city and serves beer with traditional German fare.
Salmon Sashimi at Bandol sur Mer
Rogacki
The habit of urinating on the Wall did not fall down with it. Drinking on the subway seems normal. The food, like the city, lacks sophistication. At Bandol sur Mer, French price tags don’t translate to French food. The lemon sorbet, a good idea, was too sweet for the delicate salmon. The foie gras was soft so it could’ve used crunch instead of the chewy root vegetable and slightly soggy bread. In general, nothing in the city is worth trekking to. The latté at the Barn lacked body. All the beer, whether it is at Pratergarten or at a brewery, tastes good but similar. Even Rogacki, the famed deli-like market had definitively formulaic food.
Bandol sur Mer
50€ a person, conservatively
Berlin is a city still recovering. The wounds of the past century are seen loud and clear, even perpetuated by young artists who have made the city their canvas. It will make the unsuspecting traveller uncomfortable and frightened. Toddlers run around kicking empty beer bottles. The unemployed drink dirt-cheap soup at “cafés”. It feels like the city is screaming at you. Everything from the ugly soviet-style tv-tower to the many memorials of the dead has something to scream about. There is nothing heart-warming about this city; that’s why you should visit.
48 Hours in Zurich; Geneva
Switzerland, by most standards, is a completely respectable nation. It is rich yet equal, patriotic yet peaceful, diverse in culture and language yet united in most things. From Paris, a bullet train arrives in Geneva in a mere three hours. From there, the train meanders through the mountainous and picturesque towns like Lausanne, known for the post-WWI treaty with Turkey, and through the capital, Bern, before arriving in Zurich. Like Belgium, the south is French and the north is German (though of “a whole different breed” said one German-speaking commentator). And like Amsterdam to Brussels, Zurich is beautiful and exciting compared to a duller Geneva.
Zurich
Zurich might be the prettiest small city in Europe. It is set in a magnificent nature-scape comprised of rivers, a lake and mountains in the near distance. The city itself is mountainous, providing for views of rings and rings of houses that hug the hilly contours. From city centre, the first activity should be to go south from the train station, hugging the river on its west bank until the lake is reached. More inland, Swiss and international luxuries can be found on Bahnhofstrasse: Bally clothing, Sprüngli the chocolatier; they are all there.
Löwenbräu
Art Museum near Palais des Nations, Geneva
The best museum is the Rietberg, where an impressive collection of ancient artefacts is on display for free. The Chinese selection spans the Neolithic Era to the Song Dynasty and is the most comprehensive selection I have seen. For art, a converted Löwenbräu brewery houses a myriad of contemporary art museums, most notably Migros Museum and Kunsthalle. Both are 8 CHF to attend and hard to appreciate. Instead, choose the Kunsthaus (18 CHF for all exhibitions) for a cross section of modern and contemporary art that is less obnoxious and frankly, better. On exhibition was a touring Chagall exhibition. Chagall is notably represented in the stain glass windows at the free Fraumünster church. You can’t take pictures in either but the semi-bilingual Fraumünster will chastise photo-snappers more critically. Other museums in Zurich to consider are: the Design Museum (free for ISIC cardholders), which currently showcases 3D printers; the Toy Museum by famed toymaker Franz Carl Weber; and the Swiss National Museum, an anti-chronological mess but impressive in size. In Geneva, the Patek Philippe museum is full of glittering watches from the past five centuries.
Markthalle
50 CHF for two
But the real gem of Zurich is in the West, in the 4th and 5th districts. Start with the Markethall Im Viadukt in the 5th, a market with an easygoing restaurant in the back. Generous portions of rustic cooking – salad, omlette, polenta and sausage – are easy to eat and come out to 50 CHF (for two). Walking northwest the unending string of shops of Im Viadukt that cohabit a railway bridge present a bougie-hipster paradise of clothes, furniture and other knick-knacks. A Nudie Jean store has denim beanbag chairs; an artisan works on exposed-wood tables in the back of a nearby shop. At the end of this walk, a towering assemblage of stacked freight containers house a recycled material-only Freitag store. Hop to the 4th to see Street-Files Mini Mart for clothing cool people wear and another cluster of innovative shops.
Nudie Jeans Store
5th District
Freitag Shop
Hiltl
20 CHF lunch (but weight)
In general, the food could be better. Restaurants like the fondue-serving Hôtel les Armures and the Michelin-acclaimed Bistrot du Boeuf Rouge (both in Geneva) serve overpriced and boring food. Instead, the culinary standard is that of the market. Like the style at the Marché at Brookfield Place, an original concept restaurant owned by Swiss hotelier and restaurateur Mövenpick (which also makes the best ice cream in Europe, near the Opera House), self-serve is in. In Zurich, Hiltl and its less refined offspring, Tibits, both have an unassailable selection of vegetarian food priced by weight. An average brunch might cost 20 CHF (10 CHF at Tibits), a bottom-low price by Swiss standards. Hiltl is chic and pristine; it is luxury at its fullest without the pretentious customs of old. A palette of differently coloured vegetable curries is delicious and healthful and go along well with pappadum, a lightweight value-maximizer. And in a city of expensive cocktails, the refreshing 500mL homemade ice tea is a steal at 8 CHF. If this is too exuberant, then Sterner Grill sells excellent bratwursts (7 CHF) and beer (4 CHF) while Brasserie Louis Take-out has mediocre steak sandwiches (10.50 CHF).
Mövenpick
4th District
Like the products it sells, Switzerland is a niche destination that will delight some travellers and tire others. But visiting will at least burst the bubble of Swiss excellence labelled on its watches and chocolates. Indeed, the Zurich transit system is timely and efficient (though the one in Geneva could be better) and there were no homeless people. But on one evening, a restaurant was closed at the time of my reservation. Stupidity is a human phenomenon and a strong pan-European propensity from which the Swiss cannot be excluded. Their opportunism in the World Wars is often misinterpreted as pacifism; they hid money for Hitler. Today, their banks are under pressure both from within and from offshore finance watchdogs. The oligopolistic structure of their industries creates exorbitant prices exacerbated by a strong currency, resulting in a loss of competitiveness. Even the Swiss can falter.
48 Hours in Rome; Milan
Italy is the direct product of the greatest civilization in history and led the world into the modern era via the Renaissance. From these notabilities, Italy derives an unequalled history and culture that make it an international hotspot for tourism. It is easy to think of a handful of cities that the discerning traveller must visit. Venice, Milan, Florence, Verona and Rome: each has its own peculiarity and merit a visit. Milan is the economic centre and the capital of fashion and design in the world. Rome is inheritor of the wonders left behind by an ancient civilization.
Vatican Museum
Pont Sisto
In many ways, Italy resembles Spain. Buildings have similar features and are coloured and pieced together in similar ways. But although Spanish architecture is rarely adorned, the Italian equivalents have motifs and ornamentation. This can be traced to Italy’s excessive wealth in the past. Today, much has changed. Although Italy has a manageable deficit, it is losing competitiveness. Its GDP per capita has declined since its joining the Eurozone; it is extremely corrupt (comparable to Greece), and has a failing infrastructure.
Plaza Venezia
Rome is probably the most important tourist destination in the world. On the right side of the Tiber, such must-sees as the Colloseum and Trevi fountain remind visitors of Rome’s plentiful history. It is a city so rich in monuments of grandiose proportion that the principal displays of other cities lumped together would be merely a sideshow in Rome. The scale of the sights cannot be exaggerated for there is no comparison in the modern world. For travelers not yet graced by Rome’s splendours, they cannot imagine the extensiveness. The Trevi fountain is nudged between small corridors that the gargantuan structure creeps up on unsuspecting pedestrians. Hidden by rickety buildings, it can be elusive until found. The Colosseum is magnificent even after centuries of pillaging. Its awe derives directly from the sense of human achievement required to put a 75,000 seater in place two millennia ago. For a comparison, the A.C. Milan game I attended was played in a stadium that housed 80,000. Nearby, a preserved area in city-centre comprises the Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill. Walk over the remains of everyday Roman life.
Colloseum
Roman Forum, Palatine Hill
View from Roman Forum / Palatine Hill
Across the Tiber River sits the smallest country in the world. Inside Vatican city, rests St. Peter’s Basilica, another gargantuan structure that allows for a buffet of praying opportunities. Behind the evangelists and nuns on their knees are foreign-tongued picture snappers. Another must-see is the Vatican museum. In one corridor, an unending line of busts and sculptures so numerous that it looked like cheap inventory at an antique store until you take a closer look. In another, maps of Italy’s states and possessions. At the end of the museum, the Sistine chapel with Michael Angel’s famous fresco awaits. It is camouflaged by the array of similar drawings on the ceiling, but it’s there.
Roma Sparita
12€ Cacio e Pepe
7€ Artichoke
6€ Anchovy Salad
Reservations necessary
Between the tiring gallivants, traditional Italian fare is readily available For cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper), a simple pasta in egg yolk with cheese and pepper, consider Roma Sparita. It is in the old village of Trastevere, where young Italians congregate at night. It has a bustling line of bars and restaurants to fit any mood. For something more adventurous, leave the comfort of touristy Rome and venture to the outskirts where Betto e Mary, from an unnoticeable folk restaurant with an open-fire oven, serve a sextet of ox parts. The food is mediocre but the atmosphere is not. Betto (presumably, that is his name), wearing a sports jacket and track pants, sits down beside guests to construct a suitable menu impromptu. His sons with similar sartorial prowess serve the food.
Betto e Mary
61€ for two
The trip to the outskirts reveals the tattered country we hear from overseas. A metro train takes twenty minutes to come. A bus with 10-minute cycles comes swamped with smelly commuters 30 minutes after the fact. No wall is safe from debasement by graffiti. Cracks can be seen as soon as you leave touristy areas. Sketchiness and fear for safety is the pervasive feeling. Life is difficult for residents. The metro seems to have been built for tourists; it stops at every major attraction but walks to residential areas are lengthy. This is the most backwards city I have visited, including any that I have seen in the “3rd world”. Cell service is often weak or non-existent. Transit directions are not linked to Google Maps. Credit cards are often unaccepted. Luggage storage has lengthy lines because it is low-tech.
Pizzarium
Gelateria Dei Gracchi
I Porchettoni der Pigneto
10€ antipasto
4.5€ pint of beer
2€ per 100g of porchetta
The most impressive food in Rome are the small quick-serve places that put a fresh spin on Italian classics. Gelateria Dei Gracchi is the city’s most acclaimed Gelateria and has no less than five variations on dark chocolate alone. One dubbed as Cuban was flavoured with rum and went well with the almond variety (€2.5). For flawless porchetta, I Porchettoni der Pigneto has a suckling pig in the window and indoor picnic tables to eat from. The owner can only speak Italian, but it isn’t difficult to order when you can just point at the pig. It is a delightful treat to go with perky antipasto (zucchini, eggplant, sun-dried tomatoes) and a pint of beer. Walls are decorated with photographs of the allied bombing of that exact street (1943, Italian Campaign). Best is Pizzarium, run by a bumbling celebrity chef called Bonci, affectionately caricaturized at the front of the store as a big-bellied epicure. His pizzas speak for themselves. The crust is no doubt thin but has volume reminiscent of well-baked bread. The result is an explosion in the mouth where ever taste bud and nerve is touched. The bread is so fluid that it is as if a dry soup were being slurped. The pizzas are topped with first-class, fresh ingredients like prosciutto or buffalo mozzarella. This is quite simply the best pizza I’ve ever had.
HangarBicocca
Spazio Rossana Orlandi
Milan is a bore against Rome. But sights like Duomo and the canal are worth seeing. We particularly enjoyed the Triennale Design Museum, which had an odd mélange of exhibits about Italian Design, Dracula and Sex. Pirelli HangarBicocca, a converted warehouse has seven futuristic leaning towers in a converted factory and is free. Spazio Rossana Orlandi is a beautiful furniture shop with contributions from the artsy fartsy and is free. For lunch, an acclaimed restaurant called Giulio Pane e Ojo, a bit out of the way, serves a two-course meal and wine for 10€ a person. For dinner, some roadside paninis and roasted chestnuts before seeing an AC Milan game.
Giulio Pane e Ojo
10€ lunch
The most important sight in Milan is also the most difficult to come by. Don’t be fooled by the names: three of tripadvisor’s Top 10 in Milan concern the same object. L'Ultima Cena, Chiesa di San Maurizio al Monastero Maggiore and Santa Maria delle Grazie all refer to Da Vinci’s last supper, the romanticized fresco from Renaissance Italy pumped up by Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code. It is many magnitudes more impressive than Mona Lisa at the Louvre because of its size. Advanced booking is essential. I went at 8 AM and found tickets for one person at 11:15 AM. For groups, a week should be sufficient.
Italy is the most important destination for travellers to Europe. Domiciled in Paris, I relinquish that title begrudgingly. Rome is beautiful like Paris, but Rome is more grandiose. But it is also more problematic. The worst of Paris (20th Arr.) is to the Bronx as the slums of Rome are to Washington Heights. The underlying toil of Italians is irrefutable evidence of Italy’s economic malaise and of its being the greatest threat to the continuation of the common currency. Unlike the lively Spanish, Italians seem on average jaded, disgruntled, and unsympathetic. In front of the Duomo, sellers put braided bracelets on you then force you to buy it. At the stadium, hooligans shout racist remarks and unsportsmanlike rants. It seems like the populous has given up. The few who seem to care about politics insist on denigrating Monti, a reformist, and vindicating Berlusconi, who created the current Italy. Italy is a pleasure to visit, but tourism can only take the country so far.
48 Hours in Barcelona and Madrid
Barcelona is the subject of some exceptionally scenic panoramas. Its expansive reach, from the coastal beaches to the mountainous outskirts, is decorated with a mélange of earth-tones, most conspicuously the Valencia orange roofs. Neighbourhoods look like jigsaw puzzles where disparate buildings fit together at awkward angles and look at risk of tipping over into the narrow streets. Unfortunately, the panoramas, such as the spectacular one from Parc Guell, end up being much more inspiring than the zoomed-in picture proper. A close inspection reveals the tattered, nondescript, ramshackle product of a miserable history and chronic subsistence. Indeed, Spain lost its power early and has never recovered. It suffered the horrific Civil War (1936-1938), the first war to involve civilians (dubbed “Total War”, like its successor, WWII). Then it was stunted by a fascist dictator until 1975, when it joined the European Union and recovered miraculously. Many trace Barcelona’s success to the 1992 Olympics whose remnants are still on proud display on Montjuic.
View from Parc Guell
Barcelona is the capital of the economic powerhouse that is Catalonia. It speaks a different language and claims to have different tasting food. The region persistently vies for independence; indeed it fought against Franco in the Civil War for this reason. And because it is the shining star of Spain, it gets at least some autonomy. The Catalonian Historical Museum tries to showcase these histories, but is probably not worth seeing.
Casa Batlló
On the other hand the Picasso Museum (5€) the Museum of Contemporary Art (2€) and the MNAC (7€) probably are. The Museum of Contemporary Art, in particular, unapologetically displays the object of choice for contemporary artists: the female form. It presents a rare opportunity to satisfy prurient desires in a societally acceptable manner. Better yet is the Gaudi museum. One of his works on La Rambla is converted to an exhibition with an informative audio guide. It is expensive at 17€ but is worth it, and the money goes to support restoration projects. The styles, methods and motivations of the famed avant-garde architect of the Sagrada Familia (which is a towering monstrosity, and deserves a quick look) are rigorously explained.
Cerveseria Catalana
Dishes 4-8€, 2-3 dishes per person
The definitive style of cuisine is tapas, the sharing of small plates of traditional Spanish food. There is a welcomed focus on seafood and cold-cuts. For a bustling, inexpensive, group-oriented evening, go to Cerveseria Catalana if you can stand the hour-long wait. It serves an impressive list of beers and wines and an extensive menu of guilt-inducing tapas like Huevos Rotos, a Spanish poutine with eggs in place of gravy, or deep-fried artichokes and Patatas Bravas (potatoes with a spicy and garlic sauce). My favourites were the healthier options, like the goat cheese on eggplant and red peppers. Unfortunately, dishes like the traditional Spanish peppers lacked flavour and excitement.
Tapas, 24
Dishes 8-12€, 2-3 dishes per person
For a less sensationalized tapas bar, Tapas, 24 is a subterranean hole-in-the-wall that has a platoon (they were dressed in some uniform) of amicable waiters that translate menus patiently, charge your phone, and even speak to nasty, monolingual telecom companies for you. From the bar, a curious eye wonders past the pyramids of fresh, local ingredients to the chefs who meticulously tinker with bite-sized portions. The seared tuna, a traditional Japanese dish, was reinvigorated Spanish-style with a bed of tomatoes that neutralize the tuna in perfect proportion. The pork was adventurously raw and sported a savoury mix of almost-spicy flavours. Finally, a platter of Iberian ham on tomato, bread and olive oil relies on top-notch ingredients and bold simplicity and delivers inspiring results.
Cinc Sentits
59€ Menu, "4 courses" but many more in actuality
For some Michelin stars, Cinc Sentits presents an unending parade of food for a decent price. It also relies on the traditions of Catalan: the ham, peppers, tomato bread and pork, but treats them with imaginative transformation. Take, for example, the Spanish poutine. Instead, a sweet potato is cut in half, its centre holed out, and replaced with perfectly boiled eggs and accompanied by a richly sweet sauce. Another highlight was the thinly sliced octopus with pillars of cylindrical cuts of potatoes that melted in your mouth. And although the major dishes were not enlightening (the mackerel with paellas and hardened honey was over-flavoured; the Iberian pork tenderloin under-flavoured) the little knickknacks made the meal. A row of four bite-size snacks started and ended the meal. To start, an olive that actually tasted good, a tomato-bread worthy of molecular gastronomy, salted fish with a muted cream cheese and a crunchy fortune cookie beneath a tangy sauce. This went with eggnog of sorts with Canadian maple syrup (I couldn’t resist asking). To finish, a similar assortment of complementary, amuse-bouches that gave the meal many extra dimensions. Perhaps the most spectacular of all though, was the dessert: warm chocolate ganache laden with crunchy tidbits and a bed of olive oil, seasoned by salt to contrast a cold egg-shaped ice cream. Wonderful.
Hot Chocolate at Cocoa Sampaka
The hot chocolate at Cocoa Sampaka is unadulterated melted chocolate. It allows for a focused appreciation of the delicacy that originated from the Spanish colonization of the cocao producing regions of America. The drink was inconceivably rich and better than the Brussel’s equivalent many times over.
La Rambla
A sense of vivacity pervades the city. Carefree children roam the streets, oblivious to the dire state of their country’s woes. The homeless serenade commuters on metro cars with folk songs sung to accordions and drums. At night, tourists on lively La Rambla are replaced with an energetic youth who pre-drink at establishments that resemble beer halls and then in the darkness of the night trek to their final (or penultimate, in some cases) destination. Many return home only when the metro reopens in the morning.
Madrid is a better behaving cousin of Barcelona. If separatist Barcelona were Montreal, Madrid would be Toronto. The architecture in Madrid is cleaner, more grandiose, less risky, and more sympathetic compared with the awkward but charming pastiche of Barcelona. It is desperately Spanish, as Paris is French; English becomes a novelty. Madrid is also less vibrant, less animated and more mature. Some might indeed consider it boring, as discouraged travellers consider Toronto, but the muted splendours will enchant an unsuspecting tourist.
Take, for example, the loveliest market near the Plaza Mayor called the Mercado de San Miguel. Some businessmen saved it from going under and converted it into the Mecca of Spanish food. It is definitively modern looking and sports rows upon rows of food purveyors selling Spanish pancakes, paella, oysters, sangria and other Spanish goodies. There are no paper cups or plates to be found; it is a fine dining experience on foot. From the Museo de San Isidro to the San Francisco el Grande Basilica, this area is the most picturesque in all of Madrid.
Mercado San Miguel
Many of the delicacies of Catalonia disappear in Madrid. Potatoes are filled inside the eggs instead of the eggs being filled between the potatoes. At Arzábal, sit at the bar for some crispy Iberian ham croquettes and a nippy cold onion soup. Or pilgrimage to the working class district that houses Asturianos, where grandma cooks homey meals in a comfortable setting.
A troika of art museums are cheap and worth going to. Most spectacular is the Reina Sofia, which is worth seeing just for Picasso’s Guernica. Prado and Thyssen are nearby and merit a visit too. Nearby is a cute shopping district with no designer brand to be seen. Shops range from the environmental conscious to those for locography connoisseurs. But the must-see is Regalos Originales, which does postcards from a bygone era of every major sight imaginable. For 20€, I picked up some of Toronto before the skyscrapers went up, of Niagara Falls and one for Valentines Day.
Nightlife is buzzing, but of a different nature than Barcelona. There are just as many people but they seem less innocent. The pack of beer and cigarette sellers on the streets detracts from the atmosphere. Activities are more mature. For 20€, you can watch almost amateur dancers practicing Flamenco, a traditional Spanish dance at Cardamomo. A line of bars, cafés and pubs near Puerto del Sol come in all ranges and sizes but most serve cheap wine, vermouth and fruity sangria or the similar-enough Tinto de Verano. Night food aficionados go to Chocolatería de San Ginés and get oily churros dipped in pure chocolate.
Plaza Mayor
Some Spanish structural problems are easily noticed. Conrad Black noted that the primary problem of Europe is that barely 30% of people work. On a Monday afternoon, the streets were deserted; it felt like prolonged siesta in the dead of winter (in Madrid, it snowed briefly). The rule-of-thumb in Spain is closed until proven open, especially on Mondays.
Spain is Europe’s third-largest economy and essential to the Union’s survival. But it has suffered housing and banking crises that required an unprecedented bailout and it singlehandedly reinvigorated the Euro Crisis last year. Now, the politics are a mess, with new scandals that the President denies. It is such a shame that such a vibrant country with at least two world-class cities should be subject to such economic malaise. The poor kids who run through them on balance will be unemployed.
48 Hours in Amsterdam
Amsterdam is the Venice of north. Built on marshland, it resembles concert hall of sorts. Streets alternate with canals shaped in semi-circles with the train station, Amsterdam Centraal at its centre. It is one of the few cities that is so magnificently beautiful that the same things look afresh with each visit.
A Canal of Amsterdam
After a titillating evening with Beethoven (who is German, but has a name that fits the Dutch standard) I took a straight shot tram to the Red Light district. The result was an excellent juxtaposition between different expositions aimed at satisfying the same human desire for distraction. The Red Light district, where prostitutes sell themselves behind windows like they do in Les Misérables, is an unfettered market for illicit activities. It commoditizes sex so effectively that buyers can expect to pay standard rates for any particular product, with value-added pricing for the extras. It employs dynamic pricing too, such as increasing prices during peak hours. The district is a must-see. But go when it’s busy; otherwise it can quickly become sketchy.
Concertgebouw
Red Light District
A fries cart parody of The Potato Eaters
Museums are numerous and range vastly in quality but little in price. The best ones are: Anne Frank House, the eerie hiding place for some eight Dutch Jews during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands; Van Gogh Museum, which illustrates Van Gogh’s life through his noteworthy paintings; The Amsterdam Historic Museum, which tells the history of the Netherlands from its mercantile beginnings to the golden ages to its place as a ‘free-city’ today in an effective multi-lingual way. Unfortunately, these all cost dearly, even for students.
While visiting European nations, I intend to experience the food of their former colonies. London has excellent Indian food and the Dutch apparently has the best Indonesian food in the world. In Amsterdam, most notable is Temple Doeloe. It serves spicy food and charges for water, a vicious cycle for the wallet but deliciously satisfying. A lamb chop is covered in a potent and course sauce that is delectably sweet. This is followed with six tapas-style dishes in butter-bowls. Each of the meats, the chicken, beef and lamb, were interesting on their own accord and did not fall into the Asian trap of redundancy. The vegetables were a bit soggy but were a decent complement to the main attraction.
Temple Doeloe
35€ menu, 3 courses
Closed Sunday
Charges for water
For breakfast, consider Pannenkoekenhuis "Upstairs", a Dutch take on crepes. Up a creaky, steep and narrow staircase, a 10-seater pancake house serves proper crepes that are a bit plump but still worth a visit (if only for the scenery). I struck up a conversation with an elderly Jewish Australian on the topic of whether education should be private or public. But beware, like most things in Amsterdam, this place opens only at noon. Another late starter is Frens Haringhandel, which serves raw haring under a bed of onions and pickles, a traditional Dutch delight.
Frens Haringhandel
Pannenkoekenhuis "Upstairs"
Amsterdam also has some excellent beer spots. Café Gollem is a dingy affair with much character, `t Arendsnest serves only Dutch beers and is knowledgeable about its selection, Brouwerij t'IJ is beside one of the few remaining windmills and Café Hoppe is a comfortable bar near Spui station with a limited but good beer selection. Most also do some sorts of sausage and cheese that go along well with the beer.
De gooyer windmill
Café Hoppe, liver saussage
Cross cultural dissemination is ripe in this international city. References to Paris come often, from bridges made in the image of the Alexander III bridge or the science museum by the same architect as the Pompidou centre. Brussels sprouts and Belgian beer are everywhere, like at Gebr. Hartering. This secluded restaurant was a homey affair run by one chef and a waiter half-serving as a plating chef. To start was a colourful fan of vegetables on a fine liver pâté. Veal followed with kale, some steamy, some crispy. The crispy kale was wonderfully delicate and well-seasoned but the softer kale reminded of an Anne Frank quotation: “It's incredible how kale that is probably a few years old can stink!” But overall, an excellent fine dining experience.
Restaurant Gebr. Hartering
37€ menu, 4 courses
Closed Monday
Amsterdam chooses to be fresh when other cities cling to the past. The Netherlands was the first country to legalize gay marriage and only recent have other countries and states caught on. It has a refreshingly liberal view on what others might consider unthinkable, but does it in a considerate way. It legalizes soft drugs but sets up harsh penalties for hard drugs. It seems to be the way other developed countries like Canada are going as well. But even with these gusts of modernity, the city does not lose its historical charm and its intrinsically kind populace. All this makes Amsterdam an essential city of Europe.
48 Hours in Brussels
The drinking scene is exceptional. Delirium pub has thousands of beers, and an extensive list of domestic and international ones on tap. They aren’t as affordable as expected but cheap nonetheless. For something more provocative, there is a converted Bohemian Brothel called Goupil le Fol, where they serve a delicious fruit wine. Behold posters of naked women and a Sylvia Plath room. It is filled with friendly international students who speak enough languages to make you feel illiterate.
Les Brassins
Rabbit in cherry beer sauce (1 leg) € 13,00
No credit cards
Hot Chocolate at Zaabar
Fritland
The waffles were terrible, the fries were mediocre and the chocolate was good. The best place to go for chocolate is Zaabar, especially on Wednesdays and Saturdays for a hands-on session. But if not, then at least get a rich chaud chocolate. For traditional Belgian fare, try Les Brassins. The slow cooked rabbit is ever so tender in a gravy that is thick but never heavy. For something fancier, Bouchery is often noted as Brussels's best restaurant. It is, at its core, a French restaurant. To start, a playful amuse-bouche of pulverized cauliflower. Next, seared mackerel still mostly raw accentuated by a curiously sweet stalk of salsify. Another fish and a dessert, both decent but nothing to write home about, finish the meal. But it is a restaurant worth going to, if only to escape the tourists for a bit. It is half-an-hour away from city centre and has a cozy cottage feel and its own garden.
Bouchery
29€ Lunch, 4 courses
Hallepoort
For a good view, go to the Hallepoort. It was the most important gateway into the city before the walls came down (a fragment of those in Paris). For something more hipster, try Nova-Cinema. It shows small-scale productions that are small probably because they’re so bad. But it’s about pretending to be a pseudo-intellectual for a bit and eating 6€ grub and drinking 2€ beer in a communal setting before settling into an run-down theatre.
The European motto "United in Diversity" in 23 different languages
Belgium has a dual-language system delineated by Brussels; anything south is effectively French and anything north is Dutch. My train sped through a fantastical snowstorm that stopped as soon as it started as the capricious weather is in these parts. As the sun arose, there was not any French to be found. I was on a train with clogged toilets and worn seats. At Roosendaal, a small picturesque city right across the border in the Netherlands, I changed to a comfortable and modern Dutch train. The phones worked better (for less), the food tasted better and even the beer was comparable.
The capital of the Europe suffers similar problems as the Union. It adopts the language of the French with mannerisms of the Dutch. The two do not mix well. Avid maître d’s of the Rue des Bouchers degrade themselves to flee-market salesmen as they try to convince tired tourists that their pot of moules is the best. It is reminiscent of Little Italy, New York, a former Dutch colony. That Belgium is an insignificant country with a diverse language set made it a perfect location for the European Parliament, which is headed by an equally unknown Belgian to whom Nigel Farage chastised as having the charisma of a damp rag and the appearance of a low grade bank clerk. He then added that "Belgium is a non-country".
Although the English, French and Dutch each had their golden ages in history, the Belgians have been relegated to a supporting role. This makes Brussels uneventful. No amount of waffles, beer, frites or mussels can change that. On a two-night stay one cannot but return back to the Grand Place and the various pedestrian streets that wrap around the square time and time again.
Grand Place
Trafalgar Square
48 Hours in London, England
Canadian Embassy
London is the New York City of Europe. Europeans go there expecting skyscrapers and roaring cars on the wrong side of the road. Hyde Park might be Central Park and Canary Wharf might be Wall Street. But this comparison belittles New York and sullies London. Instead, London is closer to Toronto. Canadian flags even conspicuously adorn the famous Trafalgar Square, belonging to our embassy. Posters of Les Misérables and Phantom of the Opera remind of when both shows were playing in Toronto. England, after all, is t he parent.
West End
Mayfair is to Regent St. as Yorkville is to Bloor St. A posh neighborhood is lined with boutique shops, resting incognito behind the touristy and flamboyant Regent Street. A winding historic building, lights and arches in full galore, could be a pathway on a giantland pinball machine; the balls are the iconic double-decker-busses that wiz recklessly through the streets, much like the scene from the Harry Potter movie. Riding on the top of one of these buses is a must, and a cheap way to get a good look at the city. The metro is relatively expensive (3£ a ticket) but highly efficient and a testament to the technologically competent British. Oyster cards (aka Octopus cards in Hong Kong, a former colony) are smart and slot commuters into the least expensive price bracket given the trips they’ve taken.
Regent Street
King's Cross
The first impressions of London are diversity, cleanliness and helpfulness. It is also resoundingly refreshing to hear English, albeit with an accent (remember Americans overwhelm the Brits 5 to 1). British people do not hesitate to laugh at themselves. For example, the Bakerloo line is an amalgamation of Baker Street and Waterloo; it seems ever so frivolous compared to the regal sounding ‘King’s Cross’, but even there exists a tribute to J.K. Rowling’s platform 9¾.
Too few people talk of British coffee shops; they are never as highly regarded as French or Italian ones. Yet the espresso bar scene is widespread, a multiple of the similar outgrowth of bars seen in Toronto. At Kaffeine, microfoam of steamed milk is poured in a tasty shot and mixed in a riveting design, as is the norm in London and Toronto and unfound in Paris. Cafés have the same exposed wood communal tables and hipster baristas I know and love.
Latte at Kaffeine
St. John
Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad £7.20
Pig Cheeks
Ice Cream
Tuna Carpaccio, Wheelers
The bone marrow at St. John’s is probably the tastiest thing I’ve ever had. It is glorified fat on a stick; it tastes better than it sounds. Frenzied diners scoop mountainous fatty globules from the inner compartment of the bone onto toast. The fat is spread like butter and accompanied by a fresh parsley salad. The restaurant is somehow refined despite the strained grey floorboards and deliberately austere walls. A cafeteria style dining area is wrapped around the formal restaurant; both apparently serve the same menu and a selection of local beers. For a more lavish (but just as expensive) restaurant, Wheeler’s serves impressive tuna Carpaccio and fish and chips complete with mushy peas. Finally, Indian food is good for budget dining.
The architecture is different than that of Paris and beautiful its own right. But it isn’t as forceful because there is an anachronistic mix. New buildings spring up everywhere and are often juxtaposed between remnants of the Victorian era. Lloyd’s building, for example, is excruciatingly ugly and ranks highly on any ugly buildings lists. It is so ugly, as one commentator says, it is hot (like Mike Jagger). But historical structures are not gone. Both London Tower and Big Ben are standard tourist destinations and probably worth seeing.
London is a far cry from the dreary, grey and boring city as it is often described. Instead it is a hub of international collaboration and on the leading edge of civilization. And it certainly does rain often and a lot, though I was lucky to have some beautiful days of sun. This is when London wakes up. The shiny new buildings reflect the rays onto the older ones. It hardly has as much character as Paris and far less touristy. But it would be a wonderful city to live in.
Food in Paris
Paris is as much a city of food as a city of lights. It seems like in every corner exists a café, a boulangerie, a brasserie or a bistro. That is to say there is no shortage of gastronomic temptations to deal with. There is a running joke that asks why French women are so skinny despite eating much bread and butter (and foie gras). The answer is because they drink a lot of red wine and smoke. If smoking is not for you, you’ll simply have to control yourself.
Food is not overly expensive. The bill is called “l’addition” perhaps because prices include tax and tip so the calculation is a simple sum of menu prices. This standard effectively nullifies the EURCAD conversion. Parisian prices can then simply be read as though they were Canadian for comparability. The overwhelming standard in Paris is the multi-course meal. It is odd that prix-fixe, a French word, is never used. Instead, a menu is a full course meal, generally ranging between 3 to 5 courses for a fixed price. They are about 20€ for lunch and 30€ for dinner. This is indeed rather cheap, considering similar offers are only seen in Toronto during summerlicious and winterlicious. A formule, on the other hand, is a lighter prix-fixe, and only includes two courses. This tradition is replicated in notable American-French restaurants like Café Boulud or Jean George Nougatine. Again, formules are generally inexpensive. Some (but not all) restaurants also have à la carte.
My first dabble into French restaurants was unsuccessful. An undirected surveying of the thousands of holes-in-the-walls is sure not to achieve pleasant results. As in any city, there is a range of culinary quality suited for a range of tastes. Not all Frenchmen are foodies, contrary to popular belief.
Furthermore, consulting solely the Michelin Guide is insufficient. The Michelin guide rewards a particular type of food that might be described as antiquated and boring. The Michelin standard is that of haute-cuisine, of formality and rigorous adherence to the culinary standards of the past. In many ways, Paris thrives on the vestiges of the past. It is behind in almost everything except subways and healthcare. But antiquated cuisine still has its place to play. Many restaurants from the Michelin guide have been delightful.
Le Cantine du Troquet
14th
01 45 40 04 98
32€ Lunch/Dinner Menu, 5 courses
Le Cantine du Troquet, for example, is tucked away in the outer ring of Paris and serves simple food from its blackboard menu in a relaxed atmosphere. There is no website and no reservations; even its telephone number is hard to find. The waiters speak only French. The appetizer came with five small plates, which I thought were the five courses of the menu. I was about to pay when the second course came. Most memorable of the five was a cauliflower soup that had little specks of chorizo scattered around. They had mostly sunk to the bottom, and ended up as a delicious scraping from the bottom of the barrel. The traditional five-course meal has fish thereafter, then meat, then salad and finally dessert. Unfortunately, primed by the American system, the salad just makes you want to start over. None of the dishes were extraordinary but worked well in an ensemble, further supported by the affordable price tag. Since it was a carte-blanche (i.e. the menu is a surprise), every visit is novel and since they describe the food in French, every bite might be surprising.
Septime
11th
01 43 67 38 29
www.septime-charonne.fr
Closed Monday lunch, Saturday and Sunday
Reservation required
55€ Dinner, 5 courses, carte blanche
There is a bit of a gastronomical revolution in Paris. Bistros and restaurants are replaced by ateliers (workshops) and comptoirs (counters). There is a modernization of food that is at odds with the traditional definition of haute-cuisine. This makes guides like Michelin less relevant; it implores you to go online to find some innovative options. Septime, for example, is solidly booked by a youthful clientele. They are ever so stingy about bookings that my spot was cancelled after they could not reach me on my phone (I had given them my Canadian number). They also had my email, but did not think of using that avenue; the French always surprise me with their listless nonchalance. I was stuffed into a claustrophobic corner, where I ate in silence beside an unsmiling Frenchman (it is decidedly French not to smile). Notwithstanding this, the five course meal (55€) was rather good, punctuated by a dessert as memorable as any. A luscious orange ice cream in the centre was surrounded by almost-frozen citrus fruits, crunchy candied sugar, buttery crème fraiche and other mouthwatering egg-shaped concoctions. That the chef was an artist by profession shows.
Les Cocottes
7th
http://www.maisonconstant.com/les-cocottes
No reservations, always open
Confit de foie gras de canard, pain de campagne 14€
Velouté de champignons de saison légèrement crémé 7€
Pommes de terre caramélisées farcies au pied de porc 15€
For some guilt-inducing richness, try Les Cocottes, by famed French chef Christian Constant; for some inexpensive haute-cuisine, walk down a dodgy 11th arrondissement path to behold the friendly and simple Au Passage.
Au Passage
11th
01 43 55 07 52
Dinner only Saturday; Closed Sunday
20€ Lunch, 3 courses + cheese plate
The average food in Paris is certainly good. But an affinity for the past and an aversion to risk-taking has made the culinary scene a bit dull. Integration and uniformity pervades the food but it is artistry and experimentation that I am looking for. The cuisine in Toronto is affordable, varied and thoughtful. I have been spoiled by that culinary wonderland. Paris might very well show its cards, but the Michelin guide is not it. We will see how the food turns as I explore further. I still have some high hopes.
Les Cailloux
13th
01 45 80 15 08
20€ lamb chops
L’auberge Aveyronnaise
12th
01 43 40 12 24
24€ Dinner, 3 courses
Le Soufflé
1st
01 42 60 27 19
10€ for a soufflé
