2nd day of Christmas

Day 2 begins when two gloggy (that’s a Danish joke) travelers step out for coffee. We walk into the street and are struck by the silence. It’s 7am the day after Christmas in the rain, but still, I’ve never been able to hear the squeak of my sneakers in a city quite like I am along the water in Copenhagen. We duck into our coffee shop. I call it “ours” because even before trying the coffee, we decide to come every morning. The place is cozy. Candles are being lit and it’s empty inside. It smells of baked goods and the barista is welcoming. As we’re scanning the breakfast menu, fresh croissants are pulled out of the oven. Without consulting one another, we order two and sit while she makes our lattes. On a drizzly December day, it’s the kind of place you never want to leave.

Christianhavn Coffee Shop

We walk back to our Airbnb, shower, and slowly prepare for the day. Our first stop is  Our Savior Church. Closed for services. Our second stop is Carlsberg brewery. Closed for the second day of Christmas. (Yes, to our surprise, that’s a thing.) Our third stop is the one destination known for running 365 days a year: the Stromma canal tour. It’s heated and covered and we have extra tissues to wipe down the endlessly fogging glass. The hour long tour takes us under 14 bridges and through the canal of Copenhagen. The only time we step out into the rain is to take a picture of the much acclaimed and humorously underwhelming Little Mermaid statue. The city has few claims to fame, and Hans Christen Anderson is a hot ticket. The statue itself is tiny, perched on a rock in the shallow water, given to the city by the Carlsberg brewery, and one of the most commonly cited destinations in the city. After the tour, we head to lunch at a Cheesecake Factory style restaurant. (Mexican? Got it. Italian. Burgers. Sandwiches. Yup.) On the bright side, it opened our eyes to a new area of the city, and even though every other store in the shopping district is closed for the second day of Christmas, we enjoy the journey tucked safely underneath our umbrella and rain jacket. 

We soon find ourselves next at an incredible bar for glogg. It’s a spot our morning barista had recommended to us, open only in the winter and situated on a dock along the canal. It’s crowded, warm, and the definition of what I’d pictured as hygge (Danish cozy).

The Glogg

Exhausted from some combination of jet lag and rain, we rest at our Airbnb before dinner.  As expected of jet-lagged travelers, we sleep through our alarms and our 30-minute snooze turns into a 2-hour deep sleep.  We wouldn’t necessarily call ourselves refreshed upon waking up, but at the same time, we knew we probably needed the sleep.

At the top of many lists of why to visit Copenhagen, we find Ruby, a bar located in the center of town with a living-room-esque atmosphere and excellent bar tenders.  What better way to start our evening than at Ruby.  It lives up to expectation.  Okay, maybe not the best bar in the world as some sites suggested, but very homey, very welcoming, and with delicious cocktails.  We find ourselves comfortable seats at the bar and quickly befriend all of the bartenders.  Trying to find a dinner spot on this second day of Christmas turns out to not be trivial, but luckily, our new friends at Ruby’s are full of suggestions. We end up in a new neighborhood at a place called Falernum.  It’s probably fair to call this place a wine bar given its wine menu was the length of a small novel.  We had some perfectly prepared scallops, mushroom risotto, and a slow-cooked duck to pair with some great wines that they suggested.  On a scale of 0 to 10, where 0 is extremely unlikely and 10 is extremely likely, we would easily give this restaurant a 9 or 10 in terms of how likely we would be to recommend it to a friend or future traveller.  

Although the day started out a bit slow, it being the second day of Christmas and all, we didn’t let that slow us down and feel like we know Copenhagen and its Danes a lot better.

Touring Cartagena

IMG_6827

“Your taxi is here!” Olga exclaimed as we quickly decided what to pack for our day trip into Cartagena. Cash, cards, sunscreen, a couple of Cliff bars, both cameras. We came downstairs to find Olga and our driver for the day, Alberto Blanco, stooped over a map bickering over the best sites in the city, plotting our day with a pen and paper.

“Are you on your honeymoon?,” he asked as we cuddled in the backseat, equal parts giddy and anxious about the day’s adventures. Apart from our view of Cartagena in the airport taxi, we’d done almost no research to prepare us for what was ahead.

So we started at the only place to start: the top of the city. “…Si no has subido a la popa, no has vito a Cartagena!” the poster read.  Alberto had taken us under his wing, proudly describing the history and significance of the site. Pointing down toward the city, he explained the day ahead as we oriented ourselves in the heat of Cartagena.

IMG_6764

We ventured back down the steep drive, then up another, landing at Castillo San Felipe de Barajas castle. The audio tour was just 15,000 pesos extra ($5). We were already in a learning mindset, so we splurged, but the headphones hung a half-inch from either ear, making hearing the bombardment of names and dates nearly impossible. (We gave up and read the Wikipedia page instead.) With headphones wrapped around our necks, we stuck our bodies against the cool walls of the tunnels, walking around the castle to capture pictures so that we wouldn’t forget what heat exhaustion threatened to wipe from our memories. (Kinda dramatic, kinda not.)

Alberto swooped us away from the hat vendors (“Don’t buy them here. The price is not fair.”) and into his air-conditioned taxi where he blared jazz music as we drove into the walled city for lunch. Olga had chosen the destination, and we chose platters of chilled rose, ceviche, fish balls, and platters of shrimp served with a coconut rice we had come to love.

Ignoring the suggestion to venture from lunch to the gold museum, we strolled the walled city, popping in and out of air-conditioned stores for reprieve. There was something magic in the liveliness of color set against the suggested safety of the wall.

When we met back up with Alberto, he was eager to show us more, showing us how to sneak in to the most expensive hotel in all of Colombia and introducing us to his mother outside of his childhood home. One of us coaxed the other down from a heat-induced meltdown with the purchase of agua sin gas before Alberto insisted on driving us through the only neighborhood of Cartagena we hadn’t yet seen. We reasoned together that should we move to Cartagena, this is where we’d find our high-rise apartment.

carmen-dinner

By 8:00, we were ready to relax over dinner at Carmen where we quickly decided on the extravagant tasting menu with wine pairings. Three hours later, we emerged full, relaxed, and a little bit tipsy. Alberto met us as planned, ready to drive us back to Olga’s, this time with his wife in the front seat. It had started to rain, and they bickered in Spanish about road safety during a rainstorm. “Don’t worry,” he told us. “If we cannot make it back, you will stay at our house. We have an extra bedroom, a bed, it will be for you, no charge.”
We made it back to Olga’s safely, and absolutely exhausted. We tucked ourselves into the mosquito net and drifted to sleep.

Cartagena’s Olga

We arrived to hotel Playa Manglares under less than optimal circumstances. We had tried to contact the host to arrange a car, but she was unresponsive, leaving us in a taxi. A droopy eyed dog with oversized ears swung back and forth through the impoverished streets of Cartagena. We drifted further and further into nothingness on the only road down Baru. (One of us, who will remain unnamed, was certain that this is how the kidnappings happen). We sat outside a large gate on a call with the son of the hotel owner, describing its dark bamboo wood for reassurance that this was, in fact, the right place and we were safe to enter.

“How did you get here?” Olga exclaimed. “I was so worried! I tried to message you!” It was an enthusiasm that never left her voice for the duration of our two day stay. Rolling our bags to the hammocks, we helped ourselves to a drink at the “trust” bar outside, marking off one cerveza and one blanco vino as we tried to calm ourselves enough to see the paradise we had booked just three days before.

olga1

The property was perfect. Palm trees and fallen coconuts. Untouched sand. White hammocks tied to trees mere steps from the Caribbean water. Light white fabrics moving with even the slightest breeze. But it was also a place that felt more real. Blue tarp to suggest failed construction. Thoughtless knickknacks like a smiling sun wind chime. And a number of workers hacking at thick roots near wheel barrels, a definitive sign that this land is not easy to inhabit. There was an authenticity to this paradise that made it feel more honest. Unlike a forced resort, at this place we could relax without the pressure to be.

Our room was the top floor, open to the elements with a pitched wood ceiling, mosquito net covered bed, and outdoor shower that had only one temperature, turned on and off by a knob shaped like a little bird. Meals were served at a table for six between the rooms and the ocean. They happened when they happened, and were what they were, brought out course by course on a large tray and served on beautiful plates that made even pasta look decadent. A tiny, beaded net covered the fresh juices to keep out flies.

olga2

“I bought this property in 1986,” Olga told us as we waited for our cab one morning. “There was nothing here. Not even a road. If we wanted to come, we had to come by donkey.” She went on to tell us that her husband was diagnosed with liver cancer when their children were older. His treatments cost them everything. They had nothing but a piece of land, and doctors told them that he would soon die. So they decided to come, living in a small camp they’d built on the property. They knew that if something were to happen, that there would be no way to get to a hospital. And they knew that something would happen. So they lived, and they waited. “Ten years went by,” she said, “and we were happy.” She went on. “Then one day we were sitting down, talking. He said something funny, and I laughed. He was always so funny. I closed my eyes for only a moment while I laughed, and then I kept talking. I said something else, but he wasn’t there anymore. He was gone. Just like that.”

We don’t know what you would do in those moments, how your mind or body would react. It’s an aloneness we’ve never experienced.

With a gratitude for time mixed with the hardness incited by loss, Olga finished the guest house she and her husband had been constructing. She makes additions when it feels right and meets each visitor with the same enthusiasm, creating the property we had first entered so tentatively. The juxtaposition of the blue tarp with the flowing white fabrics seemed almost reflective of the great beauty and loss in her own life.

olga3

After we left, she wrote to us. She wished us well on the next part of our trip, thanked us for coming, and noted how nice we are together. “We hope you’ll keep yourhappy for always,” she wrote. We are so grateful to this woman for sharing her home and her story with us. We’ll treasure this honest paradise forever.

Day 1 in Ethiopia

Harya and her dad meet me with smiling faces after I make it through the visa, immigration, and customs lines at the Addis Ababa Airport.  We exchange hugs and handshakes before piling into their 1950’s classic, white VW Bug.  This is my first opportunity to meet both of Harya’s parents and her aunt, and everyone is so warm and welcoming.  Almost immediately after entering their home, I am greeted with a strong cup of delicious Ethiopian coffee.  Given both my tired state and my love of coffee, I can’t imagine a better start to the day.

After a restful morning and an Ethiopian breakfast, Hileena, another Stanford friend of Harya and mine, comes and picks us up.  We take a driving tour of Addis, eat an Ethiopian lunch at Zola, intersperse coffee stops throughout the day to make sure that my energy stays up and my body stays caffeinated, and we slowly collect more of Hileena’s and Harya’s friends.  The afternoon includes ice cream and a couple beers at a very local pub where good-tasting local beers are the equivalent of only $0.50.  In the evening, the whole crew grabs dinner at a Turkish restaurant followed by a nightcap at a bar called the Black Rose.

addis-day1-2-copy

addis-day1-1-copy1

One very memorable adventure today occurs on our way to dinner.  As Hileena’s car climbs a rather steep hill to find a restaurant with a view, the passengers eventually file out as to allow the car every opportunity to be able to make it to the top.  Unfortunately, the car stalls and does not want to start its engine once more.  The road is dark and people of all ages and sizes start coming towards the car to investigate the scene.  Some of these approaching individuals definitely feel a little shadier than others.  Soon cars are arriving from different directions that need to pass us, and in order to allow them to do so, we end up pushing the car to the side of the road.  We all then pile back into the car and close the windows so that we can discuss a strategy without having to listen to the advice of our developing audience.  We decide that the restaurant on top of the hill isn’t worth the climb, and that we will try to start the car by gently pushing it back the down the hill.  We are rewarded with the engine starting.  We get back into the car, and continue onwards to a different restaurant.

Week 1 – Bike & Build

6/15 – 6/18: Portland, ME
Mileage: n/a (arrived by airplane)
Host: St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, 678 Washington Ave

After a couple days on our own, the trip leaders are joined by the 24 other riders whom we will help safely reach the other side of the country. We play name games, give presentations on what they should expect, share a couple meals, run through a couple practice rides, and stress anything safety-related whenever possible. We teach our riders how to care for their bikes, how to communicate on the road, and how to prevent common bicycling errors. Policies and rules are discussed, fears and anxieties are addressed, and general excitement for the adventure to come is shared.

Turning left

We also get to have our first build day at the Habitat for Humanity of Greater Portland. We install windows and put up insulation, climbing around scaffolding and up ladders all the while. There is a slight drizzle and breeze making the day almost too chilly, but the pizza provided by Habitat helps to warm us all up.

Leader crew

6/19: Kittery, ME
Mileage: 71
Host: Second Christian Congregational Church, 33 Government St

First ride. First day on the road. We dip our rear tires in the Atlantic and are on our way. Some riders are better acquainting themselves with cue sheets, riding as a group, and learning how to communicate with each other. A couple groups of riders may have gotten themselves a little turned around throughout the day. Lunch is had in a beautiful park in Kennebunk, ME, and a sigh of relief is shared upon completing this first slightly trying yet absolutely beautiful ride.

kittery1

6/20: Andover, MA
Mileage: 60
Host: The Pike School, 34 Sunset Rock Road

We start the day with a little more routine than before. Chore groups complete their tasks. Riders prepare the bicycles with more ease. Morning route meeting is relatively efficient and seemingly smooth. And the spacing between rider groups almost seems natural. After bicycling for about 60 miles including some challenging hills near the end, we have our fabulous dinner with the Webbers and start feeling a little more comfortable with the idea that we might be doing this for the next several months.

andover1

6/21 – 6/22: Fitchburg, MA
Mileage: 44
Host: First Parish Church Universalist Unitarian of Fitchburg, 923 Main St

Today was a shorter ride coming in at just over 40 miles, and it was nice arriving at the host a litter earlier. The extra time meant we could take a slightly more leisurely shower at the nearby YMCA as well as enjoy some of Neil’s anecdotes. Neil greeted us at the First Parish Church and even though he was a bit older than the rest of us, he spent the night on the floor in a sleeping bag in solidarity. Both mornings—one before our build day and one before our bike ride—Neil serenaded us as we woke in the chapel. Neil was full of facts, stories, and just general enthusiasm.

fitchburg1

The build day was particularly exciting as we were asked to move about 30 tons of stones to fill a trench in the backyard. We finished the task with 2 minutes to spare at the end of the day. It was fun seeing the hustle in our team after lunch.

fitchburg2

While in Scotland

We see snow at Loch Ness. It hails during our Glenfiddich tasting. There’s at least some rain everywhere else. But we also get our share of sunshine, and the fleeting ephemeral nature of it makes it that much more special. Here are the a list of the places in Scotland that we visited while constantly being teased by the clouds.

Lodgings:

Cherrytree Villa Guesthouse, East Mayfield 9, Edinburgh

Inch Hotel, Fort Augustus*

Highlander Inn, Craigellachie*

Ireland-Scotland-237-500px

Food:

The Holyrood 9A, 9A Holyrood Road, Edinburgh*

The Tea Rooms, Edinburgh Castle

The Elephant House, 21 George IV Bridge, Edinburgh

The Piemaker, 38 South Bridge, Edinburgh*

Clachaig Inn, Glencoe, Argyll**

Mitchells, St. Andrews, Fife

Artisan Roast, 57 Broughton Street, Edinburgh**

Ireland-Scotland-002-500pxDrinks:

Kilderkin, 65-67 Canongate, Edinburgh**

The Old Bell, 233-235 Causewayside, Edinburgh

Glenfiddich Distillery, Dufftown, Banffshire*

Fiddichside Inn, Craigellachie, Banffshire**

Highlander Inn, Craigellachie**

The Macallan Distilleries, Craigellachie*

Tomintoul Distillery, Ballindalloch, Banffshire**

Conan Doyle, 71 York Place, Edinburgh

BrewDog, 143 Cowgate, Edinburgh*

Ireland-Scotland-229-500px

Activities:

Royal Mile, High Street, Edinburgh

Stirling Castle, Stirlingshire

Glenfinnan Viaduct, Glenfinnan, Highland

Loch Ness, Inverness-shire**

Urquhart Castle, Dumnadrochit, Inverness*

St. Andrews Cathedral

The Old Course, St. Andrews

Joe Brandi

joe-brandi-500px

Joe Brandi is Speyside. As the proprietor of Craigellachie’s famous Fiddichside Inn for the last fifty years and having lived in the region his entire life, Joe embodies everything great about this part of the world. His bar sits in a room no bigger than 200 square feet with a warming fireplace and a constant stream of locals sharing their stories of old. When asked what’s changed in Craigellachie over the years, Joe mentions only the disappearance of the railroad stop. Naturally, we ask when that happened, and he responds in 1968. In other words, not a lot has changed. Prior to tending to Fiddichside, Joe spent some of his youth working as a generalist at the Macallan Distillery and afterwards as a cooper making the beautiful oak casks in which the local Scotch matured. His shaky hands pouring semi-measured drinks, the pictures lining the walls of his family, and the rainbow of scotches from golden to reddish to dark wood, all create a memory of Speyside we will not soon forget.

Band of Bikers

I took a bit of a likin’ to a two-wheeled, four-seated bicycle surrounded by four spandex-wearin’ men and their posse of supporters. As per usual, the rain was falling, the clouds were looming, and the roads were narrow, but that didn’t stop these brave gentlemen on their mission to make a difference. The four were all Scottish veterans each riding for their own veteran-related cause, and they called themselves the Band of Bikers. In conquering their 800 miles in 8 days, the three front riders would rotate positions, while the caboose rider would stay put and manage the gears through the hilly and often treacherous terrain.

Part of my attraction to this group might have been my upcoming Bike & Build journey of 4000 miles over several months covering the entire continental United States, all the while raising money and awareness for affordable housing. If you feel tempted to support me in my pedaling for affordable housing, you can do so here. Thanks!

band-of-bikers-500px

A wee bit of learnin’

Today, the tour of the Kilmainham Gaol, the former Dublin prison, enlightened us about the last couple centuries of Irish history. The prison, which was built at the end of the 18th century, housed many an Irishman, especially through the troublin’ times of the potato famine. Also, it wasn’t always a pretty site, as it became the site of many public hangings. Through hearing about the history of Kilmainham Gaol, we also learned of the Irish struggle for independence from the United Kingdom starting mostly in 1916 and the controversial treaty that was signed in 1922 that began a very messy Irish civil war. Ireland hasn’t exactly had an easy history, and the bumps and bruises worn by this prison can tell much of it.

dublin-jail

The other part of our educational day happens at the Guinness Storehouse. We learn of all the ingredients that go into this fine beer: barley, hops, water, and of course the propriety Guinness yeast. The barley is milled and then mixed with hot water and mashed. The grain is filtered out, the hops and barley is added, all of which is followed by the whole concoction being boiled. Arthur’s yeast is added to ferment, everything is allowed to mature for a while, and finally the beer is then packaged, shipped, and drunken. “Guinness is good for you.” ~Guinness’ slogan

guinness-ad-fitted

guinness-bar

 

Colchagua Valley Wine Tasting

We find a piece of home, and more specifically of Trader Joe’s, when we visit Viña Concha y Toro, the famous wine producer of Casillero del Diablo.  After a couple tastes at this winery just southeast of Santiago, we continue southward to the Colchagua Valley where we enjoy wines, lunch, vineyard-filled hills, and walks among the grapes.   In the center of the valley is Santa Cruz, a cute town filled with boutique hotels, small houses with flowered window sills, and restaurants, cafes a plenty.