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Weekending: Veliko Tarnovo

by Meg Nesterov on


The best part of expat life for me are the travel opportunities, especially when living in Turkey, conveniently located where Europe meets Asia. Expat travel takes on a new twist as you seek out the new and unfamiliar as in any new destination, the newly familiar of your adopted home city, and the old and familiar of your original home city. You luxuriate in the things your expat home lacks, compare versions of similar foods and drink, and wonder where you’d hang out, what you’d cook, and where you’d buy groceries in this foreign place. I recently took a week-long trip to Bulgaria (read about Sofia here, and I’ll finish up with the Black Sea town Varna) and fell in love with the country’s old architecture, young creativity, and most of all, the prices.

The place: Veliko Tarnovo, Bulgaria

Veliko Tarnovo (also called Veliko Turnovo, so I’ll simplify as VT) is smack dab in the middle of the country, dominated by a 12th-century fortress, hills aplenty, and the Yantra River (a Danube tributary). Once the Medieval capital of Bulgaria, VT boats a bevy of sights and lots of daytrip possibilities. After the country was liberated from the Ottoman Empire, Sofia became the capital, but VT remains a popular tourist destination and a point of pride for many Bulgarians. Other than the spectacularly Soviet Interhotel (don’t be fooled by glam interior photos, the exterior is an eyesore from another era – see above on right), VT escaped much of the communist architecture of Sofia and retains a historic small-town feel.

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  • While I found Sofia to have the best prices of any European capital thus far, VT is even more budget. I stayed in the boutique Studio Hotel for 45 Euros a night, and ordered local wine in restaurants for 2 leva a glass (and that’s for a 250 ml pour, a third of a bottle!). Two people can hit the town with 40 leva (under $30 USD) in their pockets and come home with change to spare. Real estate signs advertise houses in nearby towns for 10,000 Euros, making you contemplate a rural Bulgarian life.
  • Endless people-watching fun. For a hill town of 70,000 people, the ladies sure know how to dress. On any given weekday afternoon, you may see women in 5-inch stilettos, miniskirts, skin tight jeans, or revealing dresses. The girls may look like they are on their way to a Jersey Shore nightclub, but more likely destinations are a university class or their grandmother’s house. Additionally, ’80s fashion is alive and well in Bulgaria – I spotted mullets (for women), big hair (for men), neon colors, high-top sneakers, and vests everywhere. An entertaining afternoon can be spent at a sidewalk cafe marveling “Did you SEE what she was wearing?!” with your travel mates.

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  • While VT is a charming place, it feels like a one-horse town after a few days of wandering the same streets up and down. The historical sights are lovely to see but small and a tad overpriced (6 leva for a quick tour of a church feels a bit extortionate when you realize it could buy you a meal or get you nice and tipsy). One upside to the tiny museums is few crowds, even in the height of the tourist season. Visiting the weirdly wonderful State Art Museum as the only patron while little old ladies followed me around, turning on and off lights, was a highlight of the trip. The (almost) nightly Tsarevets fortress sound and lights show is fun to see at least once, though I thought it could be improved with more lasers and the Beverly Hills Cop theme song; visiting the fortress by day is a little disappointing and best enjoyed as a scenic view.
  • Another downside to the small-town feel of VT is limited food options. More cosmopolitan Sofia offers sushi, Indian food, and modern Bulgarian; coastal Bulgaria boats seafood galore; VT has traditional and not-terribly-exciting Bulgarian food (which can be a good or bad thing) and pizza. This means a LOT of meat and after a few days, I was literally dreaming of salad. Also: be careful with drinking tap water. Although, opinions are divided on whether or not it is safe to drink, I was sick every day I drank tap water in VT until I discovered the CDC advises against it, and was much improved after switching to bottled water. One favorite place to eat and drink: the Malkiya Inter cafe is eclectically decorated with antiques and musical instruments, buzzing with locals celebrating birthdays or watching football, and serves tasty and cheap drinks and, of course, meat.

Getting there

Centrally located, travelers can fly into Sofia or Varna and bus or drive from there, about 3.5 to 4.5 hours. Bulgarian buses are cheap, comfortable, and clean, and have the added feature (not sure if its a good one) of playing raunchy Canadian comedies with Bulgarian subtitles; I saw the dreadful National Lampoon’s Going the Distance and the “Dan Ackroyd needs a paycheck” White Coats. Trains are available as well but slower and less reliable, though they can connect you to Istanbul and Bucharest.

Make it a week

After a few days in VT proper, rent a car and explore the central Balkans, stopping at Arbanassi for architecture (you can even hike from VT) and multiple monasteries. VT can easily be combined with trips to other major Bulgarian towns, small villages, or even neighboring countries like Romania. If the weather is good, head out to the beach for my next Bulgarian stop, Varna on the Black Sea.

Read my previous Weekending trips from Istanbul here.

Round-the-world: Port Louis Central Market, Mauritius

by Alex Robertson Textor on

Port Louis, the capital of Mauritius, buzzes with energy and dilapidated charm. Imposing office buildings, government ministries, and well-maintained colonial architecture bequeath some parts of the central city a prosperous, modern feel. Yet even with its hurried industry, its traffic and businesspeople, there is a sedateness. This is especially the case around palm-lined Place Sookdeo Bissoondoyal, the nerve-center of Port Louis, with its statues and colonial atmosphere. Across the highway from this central business area is Le Caudan Waterfront, a slick shopping center disconnected from the rest of downtown.

The rickety balconies and rough-and-tumble magic of the blocks around the Central Market are the real draw. The feel here is quite French, though more along the lines of New Orleans than Nice. There’s a Bourbon Street, a Chinatown, countless shops, old buildings, and a pleasingly grubby tumult. It’s impossible to stroll through and fail to be impressed by country’s ethos of coexistence across a range of ethnicities and religions. In Port Louis, a Buddhist nun, women in headscarves, churches, and Hindu social organizations all share space on the same block. This dizzyingly plural cultural setting is exciting.The center of the action is the Central Market itself. A highlight of any trip to Port Louis, the Central Market is huge tourist magnet as well as a social and commercial activity hub for locals. Approaching the market along Farquhar Street, to its west, tourists will begin to see the hawkers almost lick their lips at the prospect of new arrivals. “Here is my card. Come with me. Where are you from? What is your country?” goes the spiel. (What follows is an entertaining lesson in the island’s tourism demographics. “Germany? England? South Africa? Australia? Netherlands? Belgium? Spain? Greece? One of the new countries of Europe? Czech Republic? Bulgaria? Romania? New Zealand? Denmark? Norway?” All no. A deeply perplexed question follows: “But my friend, where are you from?”) The hawkers are subdued and easily bypassed.

Inside the Central Market, there are stalls hawking vegetables, meat, textiles, souvenirs (most of which are made not in Mauritius but in China and Madagascar), herbs designed to address various ailments, and prepared food. The environment is hectic though not overwhelming. On the inside of the market at least, most hawkers are fairly relaxed. This is especially the case in the ground floor produce sections where tourists are less commonplace. Some of the most picturesque items for sale include chili peppers, herbs for fighting cellulite and nervousness, blocks of tofu, and long purple eggplants.

Though the Central Market is a great place to get a sense of daily life in Port Louis and pick up something to eat, it’s not necessarily the best place to purchase souvenirs or other gifts. There are other venues in Port Louis and elsewhere in Mauritius for nabbing beautiful souvenirs that cannot be located elsewhere. Unlike tourist-oriented boutiques, however, the Central Market opens a window onto local culture. It should not be missed.

Check out other posts in the Capricorn Route series here.

Beer logistics at Munich’s Oktoberfest

by Gadling Staff on

“It’s a panic,” remarked Michael Bannister, a distinguished gentleman visiting from Cambridge, England. “The thing is they all know the songs.” The crowd — some ten thousand strong — sang along with various German tunes but the real gusto was reserved for intentional hits. They belted the chorus from “Hey Jude” so loud the rafters seemed to shake. People inside the Paulaner tent danced in place for hours and did all the right moves from “YMCA.” Moreover, songs like “Sweet Caroline, “Sweet Home Alabama” and “Country Road” brought the crowd into frenzy. And you’ve never heard the song “Tequila” until hearing it on tuba and accordion! “There is so much energy here,” said Jo Wegstein from Fremont, California, visiting Germany on biotech business.

The logistics of Oktoberfest are impressive, and large festival or event planners might consider studying their methods. The beer logistics alone are amazing. For instance…

  • The Paulaner Brewery, the largest in Munich begins making Oktoberfest beer in late July and delivers about 3,000,000 liters during Oktoberfest. That’s a lot of beer, consumed one liter a time. And Paulaner is just one brewery out of 12 functioning at the annual event.
  • Paulaner brings its beer from the brewery to its Oktoberfest tent in huge tanker trucks able to transport 270 hectoliters at a time from midnight until right before the tents open in the morning.
  • The brew is connected directly from the tankers to the beer taps using a sophisticated, patented system.
  • Munich-area breweries, hospitality vendors and politicians all vie for tent space, which is highly coveted and incredibly lucrative. A tent owner or brewery can be kicked out of Oktoberfest if there are problems — and they’ll never be allowed to return.

Particularly now — the last few days of Oktoberfest — the brewery tents are usually entirely packed with attendees who’ve reserved tables months in advance.

%Gallery-7107%The Spaten tent was packed, the doors shut tight, and only those with a wristband or VIP access were allowed to enter. There are also biergartens outside, but alas, also full. I ambled over to the nearby Paulaner tent and was fortunately able to jostle and push my way in, but every seat or bench was taken. Still, I was inside and able to watch the action. However, the servers were only serving within reserved designated areas.

Eventually I started chatting with a nice young guy wearing a traditional red and white checked shirt, and he invited me over to meet his little group. Instantly I was “in,” and one of the family. Very friendly, the people at this table included his mother Monica and her husband Mark, plus a few friends and relatives. Her friend Sandy said she was with, “My man, my ex-man, my son and his girlfriend, and my sister.”

Another couple, Rolf and wife Shannina, originally from Romania, rounded out the group. These folks were accommodating and friendly and of course, everyone was enjoying the fresh Paulaner Oktoberfest brew. Dressed in traditional Oktoberfest garb, Rolf was very proud of his custom-made lederhosen, which cost 600 Euro and took six months to deliver. “They are from Stangassinger,” he said proudly. “The best.”

Yes, his lederhosen looked very nice, not that I am up on the nuances of this product. Apparently, every Bavarian man should buy a good pair, which may last a lifetime though fitting into them years from now may be another story. At one point, everyone stood and sang out as the band played a rousing rendition of “New York.” I found out that Monica’s son Danny, who brought me to the table, was only 14 years old. He looked much older. His mother said that he’d been very good this year and thought it best that he would drink under her supervision. She allowed him to drink one big beer. I saw him drink at least two.

Previously:
Arriving at Munich’s Oktoberfest
Munich, Germany’s 200th Anniversary of Oktoberfest

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Bob Ecker is a Napa, California based travel writer/photographer providing worldwide magazines and newspapers with compelling travel, hospitality, wine, culinary, skiing, film and innovative feature content. He is constantly on the go, traveling the world, unearthing new stories and uncorking emerging regions. He is current Society of American Travel Writers (SATW) member and former President of the Bay Area Travel Writers (BATW).

Flying Wizz Air, European low-cost airline

by Meg Nesterov on


I just flew with Wizz Air, a major budget airline in Europe whose name and stunts I had previously only snickered over. It turns out in addition to offering low fares across Europe, they are also the largest carrier in Hungary (at least according to Wizz, Malev Hungarian would beg to differ) and a major player in Poland, Romania, and Bulgaria. Last week I traveled to Bulgaria (look for some future Weekending posts soon) and decided to try to fly across the country from the Black Sea town of Varna to the capital city Sofia rather than spend another eight hours on a bus. As is often the case with budget carriers, Wizz has caught a fair amount of flack for their nickle-and-diming fare structure and customer service, so I was anxious to experience it first-hand.The booking process
The low-cost carrier advertises flights as low as 15 GBP from London to Poland before taxes and fees, and I found fares from Varna to Sofia starting at 78 Bulgarian (around $50 USD) plus a few bucks for taxes. Not too bad, a lot pricier than the bus but much faster. Enter the laundry list of service fees. First, you are hit up 5 Euros per passenger to use a credit card (only other options are European credit cards or bank transfers that aren’t possible for US travelers). Next, you are offered a bunch of services that might be useful for some (extra legroom, flexible booking, priority boarding, etc) but not integral to the flight. Then comes the big guns: baggage allowances. Whether I’m traveling for two days or two weeks, at maximum I pack a standard wheelie carry-on and a purse, and avoid checking bags whenever possible. Wizz allows just one piece free, up to 10 kg (22 pounds), and charges 15 to 60 Euros per bag depending if you select the option online, at the airport, or at the gate. Not wishing to be caught with a surprise charge at the airport, I opted to check one bag. Final tally: 117 Bulgarian leva per ticket or $76 USD, booked less than two weeks in advance.

Pre-departure
Haven’t even gotten to the airport and there’s another potential fee: flight check-in. It’s free if you do it online up to 7 days in advance AND print boarding passes, or 10 Euros if you wait until arriving at the airport or can’t find a printer. After entering your passport information and checking in online, your boarding passes are available as web documents or PDFs. I downloaded the PDFs and emailed to my hotel in Varna, who were kind enough to print, but boarding passes via email. Arriving at the airport, they will still check your documents, but my baggage was not scrutinized and I noticed several fellow passengers with more than one bag to carry on, so I may have been able to get away with a purse and a rollerboard.

In-flight experience
Seating on the flight is open, causing the usual every-man-for-himself rush at the gate, but inside the plane, seats are relatively comfy with snazzy purple leather seats. There is an excellent (and free!) in-flight magazine with great destination info and articles that made me want to move to Poland immediately. The Varna to Sofia flight was too short for the full food and beverage “service” (i.e. they didn’t wheel out the cart of stuff you pay for) but the usual drinks and snacks were available for purchase at typically high prices (2.50 Euros for water, 3 Euros for Cup Noodles, which is sort of a great flight food idea). Flight attendants were helpful and cheerful in the signature purple and hot pink colors.

All told, I’d fly Wizz again (especially to Poland), especially if I were near to one of their hubs. Fares are much lower than the competition (Bulgarian Air priced out at 211 leva for the same route) and if you stop looking at fares as inherently all-inclusive, the a la cart structure is actually refreshing and honest. There aren’t many perks and no in-flight movies or tv, but with most flights under 3 hours, you can get by. Airline experiences are all in the seat of the beholder, but with prices this low, a leather seat and free English-language reading material feels more luxe than low-cost.

Adventures in Eating: How to Cook a Placenta

by David Farley on

I’m not kidding. Welcome to placentophagy. There’s a theory that eating the afterbirth is good for various things, including post-partum depression. Just ask Tom Cruise. He reportedly did it after the birth of his daughter in 2006 and he’s perfectly sane, right? The word “placenta” comes from Latin, which translates to “flat cake.” And if you can’t handle eating a real one-wimp!-you can travel to Romania where they serve placinta, a flattened pastry stuffed with things like pumpkin.

But then there’s posthephagy. With the exception of certain fetish communities, I couldn’t find many places around the world that practice this. But there’s a precedent in the western world. Well, sort of.

Meet Agnes Blannbekin. This early-fourteenth-century Austrian lived as a beguine-a single woman who resided in an all-women’s home-and would spend her day going from church service to church service, having memorized the schedule of masses in every church in Vienna. We know this because a monk friend of hers wrote down a series of visions that Agnes claimed to have had. The writings were eventually published under the title Life and Revelations, and when it first hit the streets in 1731, it was an immediate scandal. Agnes’s criticism of the pope wasn’t too well received. Also, some of her daily devotional practices were strangely erotic. At the end of each mass, for example, she would partake in a practice that was apparently quite dear to her, making a beeline for the altar and showering it with an amount of amorous emotion and enthusiasm that would make modern Roman teenagers blush.But that wasn’t exactly what all the commotion was about when Life and Revelations hit the street. It was all about Chapter 37, titled “Regarding the Foreskin of Christ.” The chapter describes how the young Agnes would always cry on the feast day of the Circumcision, saddened by the first spillage of Christ’s blood. One particular year on January 1, Agnes, tearful and in mourning, began to wonder where the Holy Foreskin might have ended up. Suddenly, the inside of her mouth was overcome with a sweet sensation. She stuck out her tongue and there in the middle of it was “a little piece of skin alike the skin of an egg,” which she promptly swallowed. And then the sweetness came again and there was another piece of skin. She swallowed. And again, it came back and she swallowed again. This happened about a hundred times, until she was tempted to touch the piece of skin with her finger. When she tried, the piece of flesh began going down her throat on its own. So amplified was the sweetness her in mouth, all of Agnes’s limbs quivered and shook as they, too, were engulfed with the saccharine spirit of the Holy Foreskin.

Her confessor, the anonymous monk who scribbled down Agnes’s visions, wrote that Agnes was reluctant to talk about this particular revelation. But she did anyway, which excited him to no end: “I . . . was really very comforted that the Lord deigned to show Himself to a human being in such a way, and greatly desired to hear [about it].”

There’s no pastry-like item named for the foreskin. And you’re unlikely to find many recipes involving the prepuce. Well, there’s this. And we’ll drink to that.

[Photo credit: Sean in Japan]