Year: 2019

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Christmas in Malta

One of the many reasons that Malta became a destination for us this winter is how they celebrate the holidays.  Many Christmas traditions in Malta happen outside the home.  Not only does everyone attend a Midnight Christmas Mass, but many then follow it up with an early breakfast at a local restaurant.  Christmas lunch is then also frequently enjoyed out.  We pass by many a restaurant full of tables reorganized to accommodate large families cheerfully clinking glasses.

Not to be outdone by the Maltese, after a Christmas Eve feast at our Xara Palace Hotel, we pop into three Masses on Christmas Eve, most of which are not in English so we soak up the atmosphere more than the sermons.  The last Mass we enter right at the end to admire another beautifully decorated church, and we time it just perfectly to be handed a honey ring (a traditional Maltese pastry).  A couple of the locals spot us and give us the thumbs up.

After Mass, we haven’t quite worked up another appetite, but it’s time for Early Christmas breakfast.  This is actually a thing in Malta.  We enjoy orange juice, tea, mulled wine, and a full buffet breakfast around 2am in the morning surrounded by families young and old.  And finally, because we’re still not fully stuffed, Christmas lunch the following day has a very similar appeal.  Lots of families feasting out!

Along with the specific Christmas Eve and Christmas Day traditions, Malta and Gozo are fully decorated for the occasion.  The streets are lit up, Christmas trees a plenty, and cribs with manger scenes.  On the nearby island of Gozo, we even swing through a real-life Bethlehem complete with animals, bakers, a well, boat rides, and a manger scene with a baby Jesus.  Malta knows how to do Christmas.

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Mdina

After a 36-hour layover in Barcelona, during which we mainly try to fight our jetlag, our babymoon gets started in the walled city of Mdina, Malta.  Mdina is beyond medieval – in fact, it was Malta’s capital city back into Antiquity.  Starting with the Neolithic and Bronze Ages, then the Phoenicians as early as the 8th century BC, then eventually being home to the Romans, after which the Byzantine empire took a turn, and more recently (1500’s AD) the Order of Saint John. Finally, after having to put up with the French and the British some, Mdina and Malta are independent today. Everyone wanted a piece of Malta given its ideal position smack in the middle of the Mediterranean (just south of Sicily).  And as a result, Mdina, which sits high near the middle of Malta, saw many famous civilizations and empires come through.

We spend our first three nights on the island sleeping within the walls of this fortified city, with its population of about 300 (I’m not missing a “K” on that 300).  Once the tourists leave around 5pm, the city clears out and our small hotel, the Xara Palace, is the only hotel within its walls.  We wander the curved, quiet streets ducking into churches, cafes and medieval homes.  The quiet of the city is both magical and eerie. The only sound is that of the wind and the night time brings with it an incandescent glow. It feels like all roads lead back to St John’s Cathedral so we’re never too worried about getting lost and instead always try to go down the alley that we haven’t already seen. Mdina is clean, quiet, peaceful, and full of history.

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In and around Banff

We spend the first and last couple days of our visit to the Canadian Rockies exploring Banff.  We feel lucky that our first day ends up being the last day of straight months of rain.  Everyone we pass for the rest of the trip are in such high spirits that summer has finally arrived.  That said, our first, rainy day is spent exploring nearby towns, window shopping, brewery touring, ice cream eating, and taking a short hike up Tunnel Mountain when the weather breaks.

Banff is a little oasis nestled between tremendous peaks. Along with beautiful views, strenuous hikes, manicured gardens and river sport options a plenty, there’s also surprisingly good food, historic hotels and cute little coffee shops.  We feel right at home.  In many ways, it feels reminiscent of early weekends we spent exploring small towns in New England.

If you happen to find yourself in Banff, we loved our meals at Eden and Sky Bistro.

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Cycling the parkways

The Icefields Parkway, a.k.a. Highway 93, is heralded as a top drive of a lifetime.  National Geographic rates it as one of the top drives in the world.  

This road is well-traveled, especially when nearing a magnificent view point like Lake Louise or Moraine.  Getting to experience each lake late at night, then early in the morning, and getting to approach each vista by bicycle is now the only way we could ever imagine doing it.  All vistas require a climb, and biking that climb makes the view all the more beautiful.  We crest a hill, we pause, we photograph, we snack (a lot!), we hydrate, and we marvel.  The longest day we ride is 110 km, the shortest is 50 km, and the climbing never stops.

We bike from hotel to hotel, and the views from our rooms don’t disappoint either.

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Canadian lakes

The lakes of the Canadian Rockies come in every shade from light teal to dark blue, they’re all mirrors to their surrounding mountain peaks, and they’re around every corner of the parkway.  The science of why these lakes do what they do doesn’t ruin any of the magic.  The glacier melt, which feeds the lakes, carries something called glacier silt or rock flour.  This sunlight-reflecting silt comes from the glacier grinding along the rock underneath.  And not only does this silt reflect the sun, it also stays suspended in the water giving the lakes that spectacular uniform, full look that reflects anything it can.  From Lake Moraine to Lake Louise to Bow Lake to so many others that we passed each day on our bicycles, the surprise of their color never gets old.   

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Banff’s Bow Valley Parkway

Like a fairytale complete with tree-lined rolling hills and train whistles on the regular, the highway is our thoroughfare as we bike through Banff’s famous Bow Valley Parkway.  The snow-capped mountains surrounding us tower towards blue skies, and the color of the river running next to us is that same surreal teal that fills the lakes.  We own the uphills, we relish the downhills, there are no flats.  There’s no better way to explore the Canadian Rockies.

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Bear spray

“If you want, we can lend you some bear spray” is a helpful tip we receive upon asking for hike suggestions around Banff.  

Lindsey doesn’t flinch, so I’m not sure whether I should be making it a bigger deal or not.  I look at her for a cue, and then realize.  “Hun, I don’t think they’re warning us about mosquito bites, I think they’re protecting us from grizzly and black bears.”  

For someone who I know is so afraid of bats, I can’t imagine such comfort with the idea of crossing a giant bear on the trail.

“Oh! Oh wow! Ya – I didn’t get that at all.”  Lindsey continues to think through some of the implications.  “If we see one, we spray it?  Do we run, act big, roll over?”  Okay – maybe she didn’t say the roll over part, but that’s for dramatic effect in the retellings of the story.

“If you encounter a bear, the first thing you should do is…”  There’s a short pause, but long enough for someone else behind the counter to chime in.  At the same time, we hear, “run” and “definitely don’t run”.  It’s conflicting advice, but at least now we’re armed with the most intense pepper spray (a.k.a. bear spray) we’ve ever had.

The level of fear from everyone we ask about bears is cautious but not scared, and so over a couple days, we also try to develop a similar attitude.

During the orientation of our bike tour, we’re presented with some more information on bear safety.  Stay 100 meters away if you see a bear, unless it’s right on the side of the road, and then just don’t stop.  And if a bear starts chasing you, hope you’re not the slowest cyclist – bears are fast!

On day 2 of our ride through the Canadian Rockies, we pass a black bear cub within feet of the side of the road.  A couple cars are stopped to witness this adorable cub without mama bear anywhere in sight, or so we think.  Per our directions, we keep moving.  Definitely gets our heart rates up, but it’s all part of the adventure!

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Mosi oa Tunya (a.k.a. Vic Falls)

Our honeymoon has been indescribably epic. It only stands to reason then, that we’d end our trip at one of the most epic waterfalls in the world: Victoria Falls. 

We see the falls from the Zimbabwe side, switching cars three times each way as we’re escorted over the border. We emerge soaking wet from the spray, laughing and amazed at the mini-rainforest that the constant fall of water has created. 

We say goodbye to the falls, happy to end our trip on such a high, only to learn that it was about to get even better. Our travel agent has booked us a surprise viewing of the falls… by helicopter! 

Our honeymoon was the trip of a lifetime and the coolest thing we’d ever done. We’re so grateful for this experience and cannot wait to return, hopefully next time with a family to share it with.

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A village tour

In Botswana, the small population is supported by a government that has done well using diamond profits to provide free education and healthcare to all 2.2M citizens. Zambian people have not had the same luck. 

Livingstone is known as the tourist town, and is largely supported by the tourism industry. Our hotel in particular, has been created largely to support the local villages. Profits have been used to build a school that grows by a grade level each year. Children age 3-8 walk up to 3k every morning to attend, believing strongly that education is their way out of poverty. In the coming years, the hotel hopes to pay the bill for any student who wants to continue their education into high school or college. 

The hotel also supports the local villages by hiring locally. The boat driver at the hotel shows us his home in the village and introduces us to his wife and family. His salary, he tells us, supports 30 members of the village. It had also been enough to pay the lobola (dowry) for his wife – a common practice in Southern Africa where the eldest uncle determines how many cows his niece is worth. 

After hearing about the poverty in Zambia and visiting craft markets where people asked to trade goods for our used socks, it felt like one of the few true solutions to a more systemic problem: education and opportunity.

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The birds and the bugs

When we tell our guide that there are almost no bugs in San Francisco he says, “Wow… What happened?” The people of Botswana and Zambia, we come to find, have a necessarily different relationship with bugs. When we arrive at the Island of Siankaba, we’re told there are very few bugs, but shine a light on anything that you’re eating at night, and you’ll surely find a few small friends that have taken a liking to the dish as well. (Best to not shine the light.) In the bush, we ate more bugs than we likely would in a year at home, but that’s the bush for you. Now we’re in a 5-star hotel in Zambia, close to Livingstone, so I’m more squeamish when I see two big bugs on our table the first night we arrive. We skip the cheese plate to rush back to our room – I’m anxious for the sanctuary of our tent.

The tent is a gorgeous room set high on stilts, making it feel like we’re staying in a treehouse. Each of the six rooms overlooks the Zambezi river, a quiet haven along the waterway that leads to Victoria Falls. The rooms are connected by raised walkways and bridges that swing as you walk, and as we’re on a literal island, a boat or mokoro must be taken to the mainland.

I’m skittish when we arrive back to our room that night, and we’re careful to close the door quickly to avoid more bugs inside. We turn on the light and I scream. “Really, hun?” But then he sees it too. There’s a bird in our room, flying fast and aimlessly. Andrew runs for help as I duck and cover in the bathroom, unfortunately open at the top to the main space. It had apparently escaped by the time the staff came to catch him, but still I was grateful for the mosquito net keeping me safe.

The next day I tell another guest about the bird. He’s from Zambia and his brother works at the hotel, so I assume he’ll find the story funny and not scary. “We had a bird in our room last night!” “Wow, a bird and a bat?!” “No, just a bird,” I say. “Oh, I heard you had a bat.” “A bat?” I look at Andrew. He’d struck a deal with the staff to not tell me it was bat migration season due to my newfound phobia.

Busted.

On our last night in this resort, there’s another. But this time I know what it is, this time it meets me in the bathroom and this time Andrew chases it out of the room himself. My husband has become quite a man of the bush.