Today marks my fourth complete week on the road and while my head is still in full overdrive, my belly is craving Rubio’s fried shrimp tacos (sigh) and Vien Dong Restaurant’s cha ca Thang Long (sizzling dill and tumeric fish dish) (longer sigh) from southern California. Luckily, I’ve been able to find enough ingredients here in Belgium to appease some of my hankerings. While visiting my adoptive family in Namur, I’ve had a lot of fun preparing a few VN dishes that they’ve come to love as much, if not more, than I do. At a local Turkish market we found produce and herbs like cilantro, mint, and scallions. I think we were only missing the bean sprouts:
The rice noodle and fish sauce all came from a nearby Thai store (where we also bought tumeric powder for my beloved cha ca dish)…
The rest of the ingredients like pork and shrimp came from the local market, and on a mini grill…
we made enough Bun Tom Thit Nuong (or in my case just bun tom nuong) to last for three days:
Unfortunately I’m banned from eating any more shrimp. I have some kind of allergy to them and am suffering from the dreaded fat finger symptoms. Right hand only. Weird, I know. I’ve been to the doctor for this problem a few times before because my fingers swell up to two times their regular size, turn a weird color, and don’t bend, and her sole professional medical advice is: stop eating shrimp! You can see why I just self-medicate now. But my antihistamines are not working so I’ll be substituting fake meat for this dish next time. Anyway, I’m just glad I was in charge of cooking instead of dishwashing.
Since we’re on the subject of eating and grocery shopping on the road, let me share some things I photographed at a recent big outdoors Saturday market.
There were vendors of produce, meat, cheese, and even clothing everywhere. I can’t say I have much of a sweet tooth but when I see beautiful chocolates I just want to collect them:
Who am I kidding! I wanted to stuff my face!
On this particular Saturday it was Valentine’s Day so the flower section was especially lively:
Besides architecture and pearls I think I could spend hours looking at flowers. The blush calla lilies below are one of my favorites:
Here are some more unusual vegetables I don’t see often or ever at home. The first one tastes like a white carrot:
See you in the next blog. I’m going back to my breakfast tartine now while fantasizing about a bowl of bun tau hu ky from Pho 79 in Alhambra, California. Longest sigh.
Tags: basil, bun tau hu ky, bun tom thit nuong, calla lillies, cha ca, chocolates, cilantro, Namur, Pho 79, tumeric, vietnamese
I’ve blogged about my fear of heights before, and I blame this on never having gone skiing. Ever. Yes, opportunities have come up at Big Bear (practically in my backyard) and far more exotic locations like Portillo, but the dread of the ski lifts always followed with an excuse to back out of ski trips. So when I was at Botrange on that nature hike not too long ago, the suggestion of ski de fond seemed like the perfect combination of long distance skiing without the nightmare of dangling high above the mountain in order to get to the top.
Over the Valentine weekend Belgium saw its fair share of snow. So everyone and their grandmother and I packed up the cars and headed out to the slopes.
In my case, we went to Baraque de Fraiture in the Luxembourg province.
For a mere ten Euros you could rent the skis, boots, and poles and ski to your heart’s content from sunrise to sunset.
Since it was my first time on skis we agreed to take the easy 3km trail. If you want to see how NOT to ski, watch the video below. I know, skiing does not come natural to me:
In my defense I have to say the skis came with no instructions and as I had no waterproof pants on, my goal was to remain standing upright, unlike this…and I’m not even on skis yet here…
…but if you’re down, you might as well make snow angels:
Anyway, after 30 frustrating minutes or so of watching other skiers glide gracefully ahead of me, I tried to mimic their movements and let gravity take its course. In this video below, it was fun moving (though it felt like I was moving a lot faster than I actually did in the video) forward but stopping on skis was not always so pretty…
it was all I could do to not mow down small children and dogs (or the person taking the video) to break my fall.
So after two hours we completed the 3km trail and ventured out to the more challenging 7km path. The view was absolutely breathtaking when I got to the top:
Cross-country skiing is definitely for those who find solace in desolation…
I loved this day and I think I could learn to be a cross country skier. And perhaps when I’m better at it, I could take the time to enjoy the view instead of skiing with my head down to focus on correcting the position of my skis.
And when I’m in correct skiwear…snowboarding, here I come! Watch out!
Tags: Baraque de fraiture, Belgium, cross country skiing, Luxembourg, ski de fond, snow angel
When I left you yesterday I was mulling over the window display at Chanel. I can honestly say nothing shouted at me to come back to the store this morning. But let me spin you 180 degrees to the opposing store window at Hermes, where the green alligator Lindy bag literally made me gasp out loud:
In Europe it’s not so uncommon to find signs showing prices of items displayed in the store windows. I suppose this way, you get the sticker shock out of your system before ever entering the store. At Hermes I saw no such signs or at least I don’t remember seeing any–perhaps everything faded to black after I saw this bag! Let’s just say it’s a good thing the store was closed because there’s no greater temptation to resist than falling in love with something before finding out it’s absolutely no good for your checkbook. Then you start to rationalize about selling everything you own, your kidney, maybe both kidneys, your least favorite kid (just kidding… any kid will do) to finance it.
Anyway, this morning I decide to chuck my usual obsessive compulsive habit of making a laundry list of stuff to see/do before heading out and instead to just go out there and watch Venice wake up. As predicted, it is drizzling this morning but luckily there are only small puddles instead of flooding on most streets. In this video I am going right under the famous Rialto Bridge, which was originally built out of wood in 1172 and then rebuilt in stone in 1557…
I hop off instead at the Rialto Mercato stop as there seems to be a lot of activities happening here:
This large, covered market is a foodie’s heaven. Fresh produce, seafood, meat, and flowers of all kinds are being laid out on stands as I arrive. I’m told most locals don’t eat out on Monday nights because there’s not much seafood delivered at the markets on Mondays, but today there seems to be something for everyone:
I can’t wait to eat some of this seafood for dinner tonight. So far I’ve been filling up on delicious vegetarian pasta and panini. I’m thinking I must have been born here in a past life because I just can’t get enough of Italian food in Italy.
Anyway, I leave the market to go to Isola di S. Michele, a cemetery island. Nicknamed Island of the Dead, it primarily houses a large cemetery and once a prison. When you approach the island, the first thing you see is the immense wall around it:
I’m hoping to catch a special funeral gondola today but only manage to see flowers being delivered prior to a service instead:
Inside the cemetery gates there are various sections and some chapels…
Prominent families have their own areas and some tombstones are more spectacular than others. But in the not so fancy part of the cemetery is actually where I find the graves I have come especially to view:
Diaghilev was a ballet impresario and founder of the Ballets Russes so it is fitting to see toe shoes left at his grave:
So after about 30 minutes on this island, I play vaporetto hopscotch along the Grand Canal of Venice to see if I can’t immortalize this city through my lenses:
But traveling is so much more than just spotting the sights highlighted for you on tourist maps. It’s about running across someone’s life in action…
It’s seeing every day events like a police chase that can happen in your own backyard (or in this case, canal)…
Or finding a fast food joint like McDo, except it all sounds so much more charming to call a Big Mac a panini:
And sometimes for me, it’s just getting mildly lost even with a map in hand…
and struggling with but not minding the rough weather because…well, just look at where I am:
Besides, after a cold day, there’s every excuse to recharge with the celebrated Bellini at Harry’s Bar if you can stomach the 15 Euro cocktail:
But I think overall, one of the most fun things to do when traveling is just people watching. In observing behavior, speech, and dress of local denizens as well as global tourists, you get to briefly inhabit their space and see what it’s like to be so different and yet so alike wherever you happen to be.
Today I leave you with two memorable if small things that I stumble into on my last evening here. The first is La Bottega dei Mascareri, a mask store at the foot of the Rialto Bridge. Yes, it is tourist central on the bridge, but this 25-year-old shop is owned by a rather cool guy (along with his brother) whose creations have been used in movies like Eyes Wide Shut and featured in a ton of fashion magazines. I literally want to buy every mask in his store but walk out with two. For some reason I don’t think this will be the last time I will see him.
The other is simply this view from the top of the bridge. To the right of this picture are restaurants where you can dine al fresco and watch the boats sail by. I have to confess I do have dinner here even if I should have gone to a less touristy place on my last night and tried something more “authentic.” But I’m enamored with the canals and it’s here that I want to spend my last waking hours watching the world go by. Because sinking or not, Venice is forever.
Tags: cemetery, Chanel, Diaghilev, grave, Hermes, Isola di S Michele, Italy, La Bottega dei Mascareri, Lindy, mask, pasta, Rialto Bridge, Rialto Mercato, seafood, Venice
I haven’t been back to Venice, Italy in over ten years so you know I’m all over it when the opportunity rises to go there. This time, however, so has the water in Venice.
I leave from the Charleroi Airport outside of Brussels for a very early flight to the equally tiny Treviso Airport in Italy. This is how you get those incredible spontaneous deals via Ryan Air around Europe. From Treviso it’s about a 40-min-10-Euros-round-trip bus ride to the Piazzale Roma, where I catch my first of many vaporetto rides (on my 2-day water taxi card that can also be purchased at the Treviso airport) at the P. le Roma stop.
The first ride requires validating the card at one of these contraptions:
Anyway, I’m already on the vaporetto by 9am and as we cruise down the Canal Grande to my stop at S. Marco, my heart is completely full. There are many cities in the world that charm me but very few manage to utterly bewitch me as does Venice. Here are the many reasons why I feel this way:
In fact, I’m so distracted by taking those pictures above, especially of St. Mark’s Square, that I miss my stop all together and have to hop off the next one at S. Zaccaria and walk backwards. Before coming here, I actually went to look for rain boots in Belgium but thought I’d just wear my running shoes instead in case of rain as they dry fast. Of course, as soon as I see the locals in the many varieties of wellies I know I am in trouble. Venice is flooded:
Makeshift planks follow me from the taxi stop to the sidewalks along the canal. You can walk two-by-two on the platform but it’s tricky with luggage, even if I’m traveling with a tiny rolling case:
There are alternate routes to any destination during high tides, but when you are just arriving there for the first time, it is easy to get frustrated in maneuvering the flooded streets in incorrect footwear.
St. Mark’s is still lovely to me under water:
I can’t really figure my way around the last inundated street to my hotel and the storekeeper near it advises me to just wait about half an hour for the water to recede, so I decide to do some sightseeing instead. Near me are all the nice shops… Prada, Bottega, Hermes, churches, mysterious alleys all blocked by water. I’ve never been so happily flooded before!
And just like clockwork, when I go back to the street that takes me to my hotel half an hour later, the path is now clear. You’d never know it was submerged just a short while ago. Since I am here one full week before Carnevale and in the dead of winter, my room is ready for me before 11am. I chat with the concierge and she tells me this year’s economy has been so bad globally that I could probably still find a room for Carnevale this late in the game at a good price. For once they are not sold out and certainly not marking up their price for these two weeks of celebration in the hope of filling the rooms. Speaking of Carnevale, the stores are all full of elaborate masks and I can’t get enough of looking into store windows for the fantastic displays.
I am certain before I leave Venice I will be buying some masks. Anyway, I freshen up a bit and head back out with my camera. Here’s a quick video to show how big St. Mark’s square is (if you can spot me that is!):
Here are the sounds of bells tolling at the church:
I can’t show you any pictures of what the gilded church looks like inside, but maybe the exterior shots will whet your appetite to come see all of this for yourself:
I don’t know why every time I walk past this bridge I think of Las Vegas–it is actually the Ponte dei Sospiri or Bridge of Sighs and connects the interrogation rooms with the prisons found in the Doge’s Palace. The tale is that prisoners would sigh as this is the last view of beautiful Venice (and freedom) that they’d get before being hauled off to prison, even if there’s not much to that in history. The real legend, however, is that if you kiss your beloved on a gondola under this bridge at sunset, you will be assured of eternal love. It’s really cold here so I’m thinking you might get pneumonia instead if you are on a gondola any time today.
Now, it basically costs 6 Euros per vaporetto ride, and a 2-day pass costs 28 Euros, so by the fifth ride you feel like you’ve already beaten the system. But the truth is, sometimes it’s just faster to walk it. Plus you get to stop off in nooks and crannies that you otherwise would miss from being on the boat (but being on the boat gets you wonderful bird’s eye views and photos that you can’t get from being on land!). And even after half a day of walking around Venice you already get the impression that you can’t really get lost here. The alleys might be tricky to navigate in the dark but as long as you have an idea of where the canal is, you can always find your way home. Anyway, where was I? Yes, I am maximizing my day pass by going to another island: Murano, land of glassmaking. Glassmakers were pushed out to Murano in the 13th century due to fear of fire on Venice from their kilns. Here’s a video of a glassblowing demo I wander into:
All around the island you find glass sculptures:
There are even glass flowers on the balconies:
From Murano I hop over to Burano, an island known for lace and brightly painted houses:
It is on the island of Burano that I buy my first Carnevale mask, at a small shop owned by a couple with a young son. The man makes the papier-mâché masks at the store and his wife is the shopkeeper. Their 9-year-old son will probably continue the family tradition. I will post pictures of souvenirs when I get home since I don’t want to undo the packaging.
By the time I get back to Venice it is dark and feels like a ghost town:
I have dinner plans to get to and will post more tomorrow on my second and last day in Italy. It’s not supposed to flood tomorrow but rain is predicted. Can’t wait to tell you about the great food I’ve already had here so far. I could happily get fat in Italy on the delicious pasta and desserts. But is it really the food that’s gotten my attention? hmmmm.
Tags: Bridge of Sighs, Burano, Canal Grande, flooding, glassblowing, gondola, Italy, Murano, St. Mark's square, Venice
I’ve blogged before about how Namur has one of the most magnificent citadels left in the world. From the top of the hill you can see the entire city below, laid out along the Meuse River.
Walking around the grounds amidst the medieval ruins is a walk back in time. In the summer the medieval festival is recreated here, but the torch walk in the winter is truly an experience not to be missed. You can sign up for just the walk for 10 Euros or the entire soiree which combines the promenade with a medieval banquet for 50 Euros. Participants meet up at the Chateau des Comtes…
and are handed a waxy torch:
Around 6.30pm some bonfires are lit for us to light our individual torches–here’s a video of me struggling to light mine…c’mon baby, light my fire!
Then we begin our walk around then down the hill:
In case you’re thinking it might be dangerous to be in close proximity with so many torches on a windy night, you are correct. One woman actually sets my sleeve on fire by bumping into me with her torch and for a few seconds I think I might go up in flames. Luckily I put out the fire and there’s only slight damage to my jacket. I’m disturbed but it could have been worse; plus it’s the kind of travel mishap that I always seem to encounter then laugh about later.
At each stop there is a character in costume, speaking in Old French, telling stories about life in general back at that time. In this segment, the guy is a laborer who talks about the difficulties of making ends meet and explains how the expression travailler en noir came to exist.
The next stop is the highlight of the night–sword and flame fighting between knights and mercenaries. Before and during certain fights they explain that the armors worn are replicated in the same material and thus are as heavy to wear today as originally. Some armors weigh more than 30 kg. In pitch darkness, way above the city on this hill, the fights look like a ballet of torches, performed to the music of metal striking metal.
My favorite battle is with a young woman!
Following some 30 minutes at this spectacle, we meet up with a Count who gives an account of what it is to live obliviously, prosperously at the castle, far from the maddening crowd in the village below (note the racoon fur collar of his costume):
He even reads us a poem written about his love for the Meuse. We are then asked to extinguish our flames…
then he leads us back inside the castle, and down in the cellar is a museum displaying relics from centuries ago:
As we walk through the rooms I can’t stop thinking what a fabulous apartment this would make!
Here’s an actual chain mesh top as seen earlier on one of the knights:
Back on the main floor of the chateau there are displays documenting the chronology of the citadel. This stump shows some tools used to make coins:
By now we are starving. In cold weather I think it really is possible to eat hourly. When we get inside the banquet hall, our hands are washed as we’ll be eating with our hands as in the medieval times–I find out we’ll also be sharing food with each other, strangers or not!
I’m lucky that when we went to get our tickets to this event on Friday morning, the coordinator arranged to have the caterer provide me with a special (no meat) meal. The room is lit by candlelight and music played with traditional instruments completes the ambiance:
Before each course is served, the hostess explains the ingredients and cooking method used. The next photos are of dishes made with items found in the area from the 13th-14th century, which means heavy on cannelle and light on salt:
There were red wine (hypocras) and honey-flavored white wine and home brewed beer (which is particularly bitter):
This was the meat plate–full of fragrant mushrooms, almonds and cranberries:
Here’s mine with salmon, which was indeed found in the Meuse back in the day:
My vegetables include spinach sauteed with onions and a raw sauce consisting of crushed almonds, garlic, basil, and parsley. Typically, fish dishes were always accompanied by an uncooked sauce. For dessert there is black nougat sweetened not by sugar but honey. There is also gauffre with a creme frite that does not taste anything like today’s Belgian waffle. Sugar does not make its appearance till the 19th century, and supposedly we used to consume 1kg of sugar annually whereas it’s closer to 40kg now!
This has been a really cool experience shared with dear friends. I’m actually behind in blogging about the one great snowy day I had in Belgium this past week, but that will have to wait because I’m packing my bags. Wait till you see where I pop up next!
Tags: almond, cannelle, Citadelle, gauffre, hypocras, knight, medieval, Namur, torch walk, travailler en noir
