• About

Anita Go Travel

~ Life as a passport, one stamp at a time.

Anita Go Travel

Tag Archives: Food

Zanzibar – From Stone Town to Disappointment

20 Friday Mar 2015

Posted by Anita in Africa, Tanzania

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Cities, Food

Our group spent a total of 5 nights on this “beautiful” tropical island, an hour and a half ferry’s ride from Tanzania’s capital Dar Es Salaam. We stayed in Stone Town, full of remnant Omanian architecture and mosques, for two days, and then headed north to the beaches for the final three.

Unfortunately, my stay was quite tainted by the drama that unfolded on our second evening in Stone Town when I discovered that my room had been robbed, my iPhone 6 and it’s plug and adapter taken, while it had been locked and the key in the care of the front desk personnel.

I had left it charging while we went to dinner at the night market and was only gone for two hours. Ordinarily, I would not have left out such a valuable piece of equipment, but when I borrowed our driver Pete’s laptop earlier in the day, he had told me to just leave the laptop in the room when I was done with it if I couldn’t find him because “we’ve never had an issue here before and we’ve stayed more than ten times”, which gave me a false sense of security.

Buffalo skulls at the market

Buffalo skulls at the market

When I realized it was gone, I was incensed because it was obvious that whoever took it had access to the key – which meant it was most likely a member of staff in the hotel that had just helped themselves to our room and taken what they wanted. They had rifled through my roommate’s bag as well, but hadn’t taken anything. I spent the next few hours in tears while my tour group leader argued with the hotel management in Swahili, the only intelligible thing they could say was to go on and on about how their hotel was honorable and nothing like this had ever happened before – like that was of help to me.

After having lost my laptop to whatever bad luck was befalling me, I was pretty upset that I’d now lost the one piece of technology I had left to stay in touch with loved ones back home, to access skype, and stay in touch with job opportunities as they arose.

This was not good. At all.

I was somehow appeased a little the next day when Dan, our local tour leader in Zanzibar, learned of what happened and went completely ape shit on the hotel management. He pretty much accused them of stealing my property, and as I instructed, suggested that whomever just turned up with the phone would get a $200 finder’s fee from me. It became obvious that this wasn’t going to work when Tabitha explained that an iPhone 6 could carry a $2000 tag price in Africa as they are simply not available still.

Sigh.

Just like Elsa in Frozen, I had to Let it Go.

The event certainly blanketed my first day on the beaches in a dark mood, so at least I had enjoyed my time in Stone Town which consisted primarily of doing a Spice Tour and eating lots of yummy cheap street food in the evenings. We visited a farm run by the local government that grew a wide variety of spices that we got to sniff and taste and wash down with various teas. My favorites were the cardammon pods and the cinnamon bark. Lovely.

climbing a palm tree

climbing a palm tree

We also got a palm-tree climbing demonstration by one of the farm’s crazy workers – who had colorfully been entertaining us with his heated arguments with two of his colleagues over the Champion’s League teams of Arsenal and Barcelona and who had better players. I find it hard to fathom how and why Africans are so obsessed with football, especially English teams – they are almost as passionate as the boys I remember growing up with in Wellingborough.

After the tour, we enjoyed a lovely meal sitting on the floor of our guide Dan’s own home, eating stewed chicken curry, rice, vegetables and red snapper. We also enjoyed a giant platter of some of the best mango I’ve ever tasted to finish the meal.

Stone Town itself, as the rest of “local non-resort” Zanzibar is pretty dirty, full of people, traffic and trash. Having said that, the narrow streets and stone houses were reminiscent of Havana or Panama City. Again, however, as with other places in Tanzania, I didn’t feel safe walking around with my group, let alone by myself. Predominantly muslim, it was also challenging to walk around in the 105 degree heat in long sleeves and pants which the local custom demands for women.

Enjoying lunch at Dan's home after the Spice Tour

Enjoying lunch at Dan’s home after the Spice Tour

After a week in tents, having air conditioned rooms and a bed to sleep in was a treat – you know, if I didn’t think about how the hotel robbed me, also informing me that anything taken from the room is not the hotel’s responsibility. If that’s true – why bother even locking the doors?

Ugh.

The logic of the Tanzanian people is really not intact. I was also informed today during our arduous return journey from the beaches (which we left at 5am this morning) that Dan had attempted to obtain a police report after he took a few officers with him to the hotel to try again to get the truth out of the hotel staff. The police had declined to write the report because “it would create a bad reputation for tourists coming to Zanzibar”. When is there ever a crime that doesn’t negatively depict its environment? Tabitha assures me we should be able to get a police report in Malawi.

We shall have to wait and see…

Finding Heaven in Villa De Leyva – My Favorite Colombian town

02 Tuesday Sep 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Cycling, Food, Villages

Villa De Leyva's beautiful town square

Villa De Leyva’s beautiful town square

I love Villa de Leyva.  It is a gorgeous small town north east of Bogota, nestled in the desert-like mountains, with an old-world charm still reflected in the enormous main plaza and the streets still covered in huge cobblestones.  It makes getting around by any other method other than strolling rather bumpy, so strolling is the preferred method.  It is a chic destination, and many of Colombia’s elite come here to eat, drink and spend money on their weekends.

Kwame and I got a bus leaving San Gil for Tunja and then hopped onto a small transfer shuttle to Villa De Leyva.  We arrived just around dusk to see a small preview of the core part of town before we managed to find a cab to take us to the hostel we’d been recommended to stay at: Colombian Highlands Renacer Hostel.

Chillin' in the hammock

Chillin’ in the hammock

Our room and patio at Colombian Highlands

Our room and patio at Colombian Highlands

As the cab drove farther and farther out of town up very steep streets, we began to question our choice about staying so far away.  That fear soon dissipated when we saw the hostel itself.  It was simply beautiful.  Simple brick building nestled in the hills, surrounded with gardens, outdoor seating, verandas and open community spaces that let the breeze run through them.  There was a clear view of the surrounding mountains and each night, the sky would light up with lightning storms from places far enough away that we didn’t hear the thunder.  The best part was the sound – nothing.  We quickly realized once we were settled in our darling room, complete with its own private patio and hammock, vaulted ceiling covered in wood vines and hanging candled lighting, that San Gil had been very noisy.  Here, you could only hear the wind blowing outside and the sound of our own voices which we felt compelled to use in a whispered hush.

It was ridiculously romantic.

Our plan had been to head back to town for dinner, but we soon discovered that the restaurant at the hostel had sushi which we couldn’t believe, and decent wine for sale!  So we ordered our food and had a very peaceful and cozy evening enjoying and sharing the serenity of the space.

Strolling down the cobblestone streets

Strolling down the cobblestone streets

The following day, we enjoyed our eggs and coffee/hot chocolate (typical Colombian breakfast) outside in the courtyard café, though we had to bundle up in sweaters to stay warm in the morning mountain air.  We spent the day wandering around the city – doing a little bit of shopping because I really needed a warmer outer layer, having left my one warm fleece in the bag my friends took to Bogota for me! And, of course, our other favorite activity – eating.  We had the most incredible Thai steak and Fish ceviche at Zarina – a gorgeous little eatery with outdoor seating next to small waterfall.  We then strolled to the main square where the kite festival was still in full swing – there’s even specialized hardware in the stone work of the main square where people can anchor their kites!  We took photos and watched the colors change as the sun began to set.  We took dessert at a lovely little café and ordered tres leches cake, a chocolate caramel mousse and cappuccinos.

I reveled in having Kwame with me to share this all with.  Villa De Leyva is most definitely not a town to come explore on one’s own.  It begs to be experienced with someone.

IMG_0903

More evening scenes from the center of town

More evening scenes from the center of town

Catching a cab back, we noticed yet another massive storm brewing – so we grabbed blankets from our room and the rest of the wine we hadn’t finished the night before, and set up lawn chairs around the fire pit to watch the show in the night sky.

On our last day in Villa De Leyva, we wanted to get out and do some hiking/biking.  We ended up deciding to do a combination of the two and rented two (rather shitty) bikes from the hostel which we planned to ride to Santa Sofia on, do a hike called Angel’s rest, and then ride back, stopping at the famed “El Fossil” – a fossil of an aquatic dinosaur – before riding home.

IMG_0931

Gleeful at Pasterleria Francesa

Gleeful at Pasterleria Francesa

Since it was an ambitious itinerary – we decided to first stop at a French bakery that we’d been told was excellent for a combination breakfast/lunch.  We had to be determined as we soon found that riding the bikes over the cobblestones was practically impossible without causing oneself serious injury to an area God only meant to be treated nicely.  We finally found it – Pasteleria Francesa.

Oh. My. God.  Words cannot describe the sheer gastronomic delight this place delivered. Never in all my trips to France have I ever tasted pastry this fluffy, almond croissants this gooey in the center, and béchamel sauce this rich and flavorful.  Kwame and I sat, speechless, stuffing our faces with sweet and savory delicacies for well over an hour until we could barely breathe and reached a jitters-inducing sugar coma.

In a sugar coma

In a sugar coma

Pure heaven.

We decided to take a taxi/truck to the trailhead as it was going to be too much to bike both directions (we asked some locals who explained that it was quite an uphill slog to get to Santa Sofia.)  Every time the truck headed downhill, Kwame and I looked at each other with dread, knowing the challenge that awaited us on the return.

The hike itself was short but spectacular.  It followed the spine ridge of a mountain and you could look far down into both valleys either side.  Streams were running but they were very low due to the dry season.  We hiked as far as a waterfall and then realized we could go no further as we were at the top of the falls themselves and anything further would require a rappel.  We sat and ate a snack and took in the views before turning around to face our long bike ride home.

Heading out on Angel's ridge

Heading out on Angel’s ridge

At the top of the waterfall

At the top of the waterfall

It was certainly tough over those first initial hills (all of which I’m proud to say I was able to complete without dismounting!) but then we reached an incredible stretch of downhill and it was pure joy whizzing past each corner, feeling the warm air hit our tired bodies and taking in the surrounding countryside.

We stopped for a water break at this gas station and as I treated our two liters, Kwame had a few bags of his favorite snack – Platanos Verdes chips.  I will always associate him with those chips…oh lord.  We sat inside what was a nice little bar/restaurant in the gas station and watched some very funny Colombian daytime TV.  It’s funny the things you plan the least sometimes turn out to be the most memorable part of the day.  I will always remember the fun we had at that gas station.

Kwame: fashion conscious for cycling in his Duke sweat pants ;-)

Kwame: fashion conscious for cycling in his Duke sweat pants 😉

We made it as far as El Fossil on bikes and found we were completely spent.  The museum was well worth the visit and had numerous examples of the paleontological wealth this area contained.  The main fossil is almost completely intact and was discovered in 1977, the museum later build literally on top of it.

El Fossil

El Fossil

Villa De Leyva evening

Villa De Leyva evening

We grabbed some Colombian Red beer and ordered another “truck taxi” to take us back to the hostel from the museum.  After a hot shower, we ordered Greek Souvlaki from our hostel restaurant and excitedly sat down in the community room’s theatre to watch Avatar.  Unfortunately, the DVD player was so bad it kept skipping every few seconds making the movie impossible to watch…which is funny now, in retrospect.  Exhausted, we headed to sleep early as we were facing another travel day tomorrow.

We were heading (back, for Kwame) to Sogamoso in the morning.

Beautiful Cartagena – Stepping back in time

02 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by Anita in Colombia, South America

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Cities, Food

The city wall

The city wall

I made a good decision by flying to Cartagena. It’s only a 45 minute flight that cost me $70 as opposed to a 13 hour bus ride that ends at a station nearly an hour’s cab ride outside the historic center.  I didn’t make a good decision, however, when it came to where I chose to spend the night.

I had followed the advice of my hostel owner in Medellin and booked an air-conditioned dorm at Mamallena’s for Wednesday and Thursday nights.  I hadn’t known that 1 – It’s one of the biggest party hostels in town and 2 – that Wednesdays, for some bizarre inexplicable reason, is the hottest night out, with the entire block of hostels and bars on the street offering an all-night party, beat pumping, techno disco-drunk fest.  Too late in the day to change upon my arrival, combined with the whompf of HEAT that one feels the moment you land here in the north of Colombia (writing this in San Gil, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for having escaped that triple digit 100% humidity hell) I figured it couldn’t be that bad – I had brought ear plugs after all.

City streets lit up at night

City streets lit up at night

I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Not only did my room face the main street, my bed was the bed closest to the wall that faced the street also. I barely got any sleep that night, with my bed practically shaking with the beat of the music.

I was eager to go explore the historic center during my first evening foray for food.  I met up with two girls at the hostel who were on their way to a restaurant called “Crepes and Waffles” (sounded right up my alley) incidentally one of whom was from Rushden, a town just a few miles from where I grew up in England.

IMG_1149I was immediately captivated by the ambience of the old city in the balmy (read: sweaty) evening.  It reminded me a lot of Havana, if Cuba had the money to invest in the upkeep of their historic buildings, roads and infrastructure.  Every road was a little alley promising romance and intrigue.  The balconies overflowed with flowers.  Couples snuggled in cozy horse-drawn carriages through plazas whose history included being one of the epicenters of the African slave trade hundreds of years ago.  Churches dotted everywhere, combined with candlelit outdoor cafes and restaurants adding to the charm of the place.   Live music emanated from several locations, notably from Bolivar plaza where an Afro-Caribbean dance concert was in full swing.

Playa Blanca

Playa Blanca

The prices for food and drinks soon tempered my enthusiasm temporarily.  They easily compared to those in the US.  But I had the most incredible meal of crab-stuffed salmon pancakes with a side of salad.  It hit the spot.

My new acquaintances were two very impressive ladies, who at the tender ages of 23 had volunteered in some of the most impoverished child orphanages and slums in the world, helping to establish or facilitate education programs.  I was fascinated to listen to their experiences of teaching in the slums of Mumbai.  The kids who were proud to show them their homes made from rotting trash.  We had a great conversation about what it might take to fight that kind of poverty in the world.  I could understand by the end of our conversation just why these girls found their Cartagena assignment to be rather “tame” and South America to not really offer much in the way of challenging travel.

Afro-Caribbean woman selling exotic fruits

Afro-Caribbean woman selling exotic fruits

After four days of walking through Medellin, their idea of taking the day tomorrow to head to Playa Blanca for a day of relaxation on a pristine white beach sounded like a great idea.  However, once we got there the next day, I was quite disappointed when I realized that it was a hawker infested beach.  How can one relax if you’re asked if you’re interested in buying bracelets every 8 minutes?  And when you say no, they each would ask us where we were from thinking that creating a false sense of intimacy was going to sell bracelets.

Additionally, the personality of the Canadian girl was beginning to grate.  She did not possess an inside voice and I could hear the details of each of her conversations from several hundred feet away.  On the bus ride back, when most sun-burned individuals were desperately trying to grab a quick 45 minute nap in the comfort of the air conditioned mini-van, she was loudly discussing the details of the anal sex she enjoyed with her boyfriend.

Not appropriate and TMI (even for me.)

Men playing chess

Men playing chess

When we got back to the hostel, I promptly showered, changed and headed out for a sunset walk along Cartagena’s city wall – its historic defense system.  It was beautiful and I happily strolled for a few hours, though once again, the romance of the place was screaming for the experience to be shared, preferably with a romantic partner.  Couples sat making out in the little holes in the wall that had been created for cannons, and were now providing relative privacy for the lovers.

I was very wistful.

Another cute piazza

Another cute piazza

IMG_1187 IMG_1190I ended my walk in the Plaza San Diego where I’d been told the restaurant La Cevicheria served amazing ceviche.  I sat down and ordered a cold mojito and the mixed ceviche and for a glorious moment, I forgot about being alone and just ate.

Having not had much sleep the night before, I couldn’t bring myself to go out that night and collapsed in bed relatively early, only to discover that there was still a party raging outside until around 2am.

Thank God for Ambien.

Ceviche

Ceviche

I was excited for the following morning because I’d booked a private walking tour of downtown with this Australian guide who’d come very highly recommended.  However, she didn’t show!  I waited for ½ an hour and then decided to wander the streets a bit more until it was time for me to catch my bus to Santa Marta.  She later wrote and said she’d left her phone at a friends’ house.  How that changed our arrangement I wasn’t sure and I felt sorely let down.

On the plus side, I managed to find a cheap new bikini (mine had fallen apart) and managed to get my camera fixed.  Someone had taken a photo and the lens had failed to retract.  Therefore all my pics of Cartagena were taken with my iPhone.

I highly recommend Cartagena to any traveler.  But go with someone you love and share the romance, the atmosphere and the food.

Saquisili Market – Screwing Llamas for sale

06 Sunday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Ecuador, Opinion Articles, South America

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Culture, Food, Opinion Pieces

Saquisili main square

Saquisili main square

In Ecuador, markets are an extremely important part of the culture. We had been told that the market in Saquisili was the most authentic indigenous market in the country and it was held every Thursday. Upon arriving in the city, we were informed there were actually four markets in one- a textile market, a food market, and the large and small animals market. Finding the one hotel in town was easy enough and though a little shabby, at $15 for a comfy bed for the two of us, I was pretty happy.

The difficulty came in finding somewhere to eat. Just like Latacunga, there didn’t appear to be any restaurants in town. We asked lots of individuals where we might be able to eat dinner and we were repeatedly met with blank stares. Since the majority of the townspeople were poor, it appeared that eating outside of the home was a luxury that the vast majority could simply not afford.

Breakfast at Saquisili Market

Breakfast at Saquisili Market

Eventually, we did find a little converted garage on a side street where an old lady stood over 4 steaming pots of food and offered us potatoes, meat and a fried egg for $2.50. The meat was extremely tough and what made it even tougher was that we were only given a spoon to eat our food with. At least the beer was relatively cold.

Main Food Market

Main Food Market

In the morning, I was nervous that I wouldn’t be able to get my caffeine fix. I can almost imagine living in a town that didn’t have a selection of restaurants, but I cannot imagine living in a town where you can’t purchase a cup of coffee in the morning. Luckily, at the food market, there were several stalls offering up a traditional Ecuadorian breakfast of a boiled egg with cornmeal served in a husk and black coffee. I managed to buy a cup of hot milk from another stall for 20 cents and Voila! – Café Au Lait.

Baby pig for sale

Baby pig for sale

There were some shocking sights awaiting us at the animal market. Some more surprising than others. For instance, I was mentally prepared for seeing pigs squealing and being dragged by their legs and thrown into trucks, I was prepared for the cows and sheep all tied up and bleating in unison. I wasn’t, however, prepared for the sight of two Llamas having sex, while also tied up and awaiting purchase. I got some interesting photos to be sure.

IMG_9504

Llamas...doing what Llamas do

Llamas…doing what Llamas do

The small animal market was a little more distressing for me. There were hundreds of plastic and fabric bags on the ground by people’s feet and I didn’t think much of it until I noticed that there was squealing and meowing and barking coming from the bags. The bags were full of guinea pigs, rabbits, puppies, chickens, goslings, and kittens. As people walked by, the owner would grab an animal, often by the neck to show the prospective buyer and then mercilessly drop the tormented creature back on to his buddies.

Guinea Pigs - yummy?

Guinea Pigs – yummy?

A basket of fowl for sale

Guinea Pigs and a basket of fowl for sale

In addition, there were hundreds of cages just filled to the brim with little sad creatures. Some showed significant signs of fighting with open wounds on their backs and legs.

IMG_9518

Puppy anyone?

Puppy anyone?

It was all in all, quite upsetting, but an eye-opening cultural experience that had to be had at the same time.

Lata…what? Traveling to Latacunga and Food Service in Ecuador

04 Friday Jul 2014

Posted by Anita in Ecuador, South America

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Food, Travel Days

 

Me and the stunning Lilian

Me and the stunning Lilian

I was ready to leave Baños and take on my next adventure. Luckily for me, I ran into a lovely young Dutch woman called Lilian the night before I left, at her hostel. I’d gone there to meet up with four other travelers who’d agreed to go to eat together. None of them showed up, so Lilian and I chatted. She had had a rather rough day because her ATM card had been skimmed. I told her about my scary waterfall experience and a little bit about how tough things had been for me emotionally of late, and we sort of bonded over that. Turned out she was planning on leaving Baños to go hike the Quilotoa loop the following day as well, but was feeling a little wary of taking the bus alone as she’d also recently been robbed on a bus. So we made a plan to head out the next day together.

Within an hour of our bus ride together, I knew Lilian was going to rate as one of the best traveling companions I’ve ever had. Which is impressive given our significant 17 year age gap. She has the fortitude of someone ten years’ her senior and always does what she sets her mind to. She is a Speech Therapist and is five months’ in to her six month journey around South America. I am constantly impressed by her opinions, thoughts and maturity at how she handles herself. And she’s stunningly beautiful to boot. I am so grateful to have met her.

On the Quilotoa Loop

On the Quilotoa Loop

In addition to that, we have so much in common! She is also a rock climber/hiker who loves the mountains, and a singer who loves musical theatre. Incredibly, we discovered pretty early on that our iPod libraries were shockingly similar and we spent hours the first day of travel together singing songs that would make most people cringe.

It is fantastic.

Arriving in Latacunga, we quickly discovered that this was a very bizarre city indeed. First of all, the lady at reception of the Hostal Tiana (whom I referred to as lady with the scary eye-make up because she had two solid luminous pink thick lines of eye shadow defined across each eyelid) gave us a couple of recommendations for restaurants for dinner by drawing them on a photocopied map of the city and highlighted the street and corner where they were located. She also assured us that if we didn’t like those restaurants, that this was the street to find lots of other options.

After walking up and down this street several times and visiting the exact locations she had highlighted, we had not found a single restaurant and our bellies were starting to really growl. Why had she told us to come to this street? Was she just having fun with us? Or was she crazy? I’m guessing we will never find out.

We asked lots of locals where there might be somewhere to eat. They seemed shocked that we were asking for a place to sit down and pay for a meal like it were a request for a place that offered a full Brazilian wax and butt bleach. Some simply said “No hay restaurantes” and others each suggested the same Pizza joint that we’d already passed several times and given the thumbs down because it was completely empty.
Eventually we stumbled across another pizza place that also offered savory crepes and we devoured one with chicken, cheese and mushrooms together with a salad. This was wonderful in spite of the fact that we had to experience the typical Ecuadorian service drama that ensues after every meal order regardless of venue.

The day before in Banos, I really wanted a burger after my morning in the waterfalls. I went to where I’d been told had the best burgers only to discover it was shut. A kid there told me it would open at 3pm, so I decided my belly could wait a couple of hours.

Baby chicks for sale.  Waiting for these to grow up, get plucked and served as food would be quicker than most food service in Ecuador

Baby chicks for sale. Waiting for these to grow up, get plucked and served as food would be quicker than most food service in Ecuador

Returning at 3pm, the doors were all still shut. At 3:15pm there was movement…but I was told to come back in a few minutes. At 3:25pm I gave them my burger and fries order and went in search of diet coke as they didn’t sell it. I eventually bought the diet coke at restaurant up the hill because none of the stores in the immediate vicinity sold it. Going back for my burger at 3:35 I was met with blank stares and zero responses to my questions about when my meal might be ready. Eventually when I got my burger around 3:45 – I asked where my fries were? The guy said nothing, but just ignored me, turned around and went into the back of the restaurant. Where had he gone? Where were my fries? My burger was getting cold in the meantime…

Eventually, the other worker responded to my pleas for information by mumbling something about needing to turn on the fryer to make the fries. Turn it ON?! Why the F*&% hadn’t they turned it ON an hour ago? How long would fries take? “Tres minutos” I was assured. Ok. I could wait 3 minutes.

My fries arrived 20 minutes later at 4:05pm. I was not happy. These were handed to me without apology, smile or acknowledgement.

Its moments like that that I miss the United States. There, I would have gotten 1 – a fresh burger because of having had to wait so long for my fries 2 – a refund for being forced to wait so long and 3 – an apology.

Welcome to Ecuador. Especially a touristy town in Ecuador.

So, similar blank stares, a long wait for food, and drinks arriving way after the food was our experience in Latacunga as well, but at least the crepe itself was delicious.

Finding super poor internet back at the hostel I ended my evening with a lovely glass of wine and some writing at a bar across the street. By the way, the wine was white. Because the bar didn’t have any red.

Didn’t have. Any. Red. Wine.

Welcome to Latacunga.

Super tired after almost 5 days of very troubled sleep, I was so grateful for the wonderfully comfortable beds at the Hostal Tiana. I needed rest for we were starting our 2 night/3 day hike of the Quilotoa loop the following morning.

Ten Stereotypical Things I Love About The French

15 Tuesday Mar 2011

Posted by Anita in France

≈ 26 Comments

Tags

Food

Could these guys BE any more French?

1 – They eat cheese with almost every meal.  Not a slice, a giant hunk of cheese. And the smellier the better. Even children; I watched as Arnaud’s 3 year old niece happily munched on a lump the size of her head.

2 – They drink wine with almost every meal.

3 – They accomplish 1. and 2. without getting fat.  How they manage this should be the subject of boundless scientific study so that we may apply their methods in the States. I gained three pounds in six days.

4 – They make a dish called Raclette.  First you have special cheese, and you melt copious slices of the stuff which you then pour all over your “charcuterie” – a vast array of cold meats and hams that represent at least one entire animal per person at the table – and a giant bowl of mashed potatoes.  It’s like eating joy.  And for me, it’s like pouring fat into my thighs.  Because I’m not French (see number 3.)

Raclette. The first of many plates' worth

5- Meals are long drawn out affairs where the whole group/family gets together, eats, laughs, shares stories. It is started by the nearly religious Apéros – Cocktails with nibbles to warm up the stomach. Dinner can easily take two hours to complete, and that’s at home, not in a restaurant.

6 – They don’t believe in queuing.  You could easily lose an eye as some old lady rams her elbow in your face as she barges past you to get on the metro first. In an emergency, the French die from trampling each other in a mass exodus where everyone is for themselves.

7 – The abysmal service in restaurants is actually quite entertaining if you pay attention.  Not caring, and being able to master an indifferent shrug on demand if your patron’s meal arrives cold or very late is part of the waiter’s job requirement.

The Gredin Family, dining together

8 – Kissing.  Not French Kissing per se, though I am grateful they gave the name to that loveliest of pastimes, but the required two to four kisses you give to everyone in the room each time you enter and leave it. The sweet panic you feel each time you forget how many times you’re supposed to do it.  And how a conversation between two people never commences prior to kissing.

9 – Strikes.  The French are very adamant about their right to work only required hours, their right to reimbursed health care, their right to retirement at 62 provided by the state, their right to go on vacation for six weeks every year, and of course, their right to strike if any of these expectations are not met or promised.  I love that.  In the US, we just expect to, well, get nothing.

10 – They’re not afraid to show they don’t like you. Forget the polite veneer of tolerance, you’ll not be left wondering if someone is genuinely interested in you, or is just pretending.

Oh Why Do I Love Paris?

15 Tuesday Mar 2011

Posted by Anita in France

≈ 17 Comments

Tags

Food

The Paris Cafe

Easy answer.  The Café culture.

I was recently lucky enough to be invited to spend a week in Paris with my Parisian boyfriend, Arnaud, who had to return to France to renew his work visa for the US.  Apart from staying with his family in Cergy for the weekend, which was both a familial and gastronomic delight, we had a corporate expensed hotel room in the 5eme arondissement near Montparnasse.  Who could refuse?

Arnaud had to work for most of the working week, and I busied myself on this, my fourth visit to the French capital, with miles and miles of walking the neighborhoods, taking photographs, drinking in the atmosphere of it all.  And, of course, the obligatory two to three stops per day to sample sweet delicious and watch the world go by in Paris cafes.

Le Croque Monsieur

There is something very unique about Paris cafes, and I think it’s because they are as much a fundamental part of a Parisian’s life as is their daily commute on the Metro.  Coffee is taken very seriously, and is always served as an espresso in the mandatory teeny cup.  Except for me, of course, the perennially annoying “touriste” who insists on ruining her café by having it “au lait”, or worse yet (quel horreur!) in a big bowl, which I greedily devoured in a street café in the Montmartre.

I love cafes not just for the people watching and for the delicious cakes, pastries and croque monsieurs; which by the way is the world’s best sandwich.  Hello? Béchamel sauce baked in with cheesy hammy wonder? I’m drooling just thinking about it.  But I digress.  I love cafes in Paris because each time I have a secret personal competition in my head as to where I can find the worst-mannered wait staff.

You see, they already hate me when they hear my English (or American, depends on whether you’re English or American) accented French.  And they usually respond in English because they know it will piss me off.  But then I go and massacre their sacred café by ordering it in a bowl and then they can’t slam down the silverware on my table hard enough.

Do you hear them screaming "Eat me!"?

I find it incredibly amusing.  And refreshing.  In the States, the over-the-top false niceness of service can sometimes be downright irritating.  But they’re working for a tip, so one can understand.  In Paris, I sometimes felt I had to stand and wave my arms above my head just to get a server’s attention.

It’s a good thing for French waiters that the l’addition typically includes the tip.  So they can roll their eyes at you, mutter under their breath, slam your food on the table, and still wish you a “Bonne Journee” without breaking a smile.

Ahhhh, Paris.

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

anitagotravel

anitagotravel

Recent Posts

  • Climbing Mt. Rainier – My 8 year journey to the top – Part II
  • Climbing Mt. Rainier – My 8 year journey to the top – Part I
  • Ethiopia Part VII: Bahir Dar – The Ethiopian Riviera
  • Ethiopia Part VI: Lalibela and its Churches built by Angels
  • Ethiopia Part V: Journey to the Center of the Earth – The Danakil Depression

Categories

  • Africa
    • Benin
    • Botswana
    • Burkina Fasso
    • Cote D'Ivoire
    • Ethiopia
    • Ghana
    • Guinea
    • Kenya
    • Lesotho
    • Malawi
    • Mozambique
    • Namibia
    • Rwanda
    • Sierra Leone
    • South Africa
    • Tanzania
    • Togo
    • Uganda
    • Zambia
    • Zimbabwe
  • Asia
    • Cambodia
    • China
    • India
    • Japan
    • Nepal
    • Seychelles
    • Singapore
    • Thailand
    • Vietnam
  • Australasia
    • Australia
    • New Zealand
  • Central America
    • Belize
    • Costa Rica
    • Cuba
    • Guatemala
    • Honduras
    • Nicaragua
    • Panama
  • Europe
    • France
    • Italy
  • Middle East
    • Jordan
    • United Arab Emirates
  • North America
    • Canada
    • Mexico
    • United States
      • Washington State
  • Opinion Articles
  • Semester at Sea 2001
  • South America
    • Argentina
    • Bolivia
    • Brazil
    • Chile
    • Colombia
    • Ecuador
    • Peru
    • The Galapagos
  • Uncategorized

Tags

Adventure Sports Animals Archaeological Sites Art Artisans Beaches Biking Camping Caves Charity Christmas Churches Cities Climbing Culture Cycling Dancing Desert Diving Flights Food Geology Health Hikes History Independent travel Indigenous People Kayaking Monkeys Mountaineering Mountains Museums Opinion Pieces Personal Public Transport Religion Reverse Culture Shock Safari Sailing Snorkeling Solo Travel Tours Townships Transport Travel Travel Days Trekking Tubing Villages Volcano Volunteering Waterfalls Women

Recent Comments

Anita on Climbing Mt. Rainier – M…
Elle Mclees on Climbing Mt. Rainier – M…
Anita on Climbing Mt. Rainier – M…
evejakubowski on Climbing Mt. Rainier – M…
TsiTsi McLure on Take Me to Church – Chimaniman…

Archives

  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • July 2011
  • June 2011
  • May 2011
  • April 2011
  • March 2011
  • August 2010
  • April 2010
  • March 2010
  • June 2009
  • May 2009
  • April 2009
  • March 2009
  • September 2008
  • March 2008
  • February 2008
  • March 2007
  • February 2007
  • May 2004
  • April 2004
  • March 2004
  • February 2004
  • January 2004
  • December 2001
  • November 2001
  • October 2001
  • September 2001

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • Anita Go Travel
    • Join 162 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Anita Go Travel
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...