Night trains in Europe?

Overnight train travel is returning to Europe after a few decade hiatus. Should you try it? Bottom Line Up Front from the late Amy Winehouse:

Way back in the Cold War, I got a few chances to take the train system in western Europe, and it was a great experience: inexpensive, efficient, timely (especially when run by Germans). A few times I got to take night trains, in second-class cars where the opposing seats pulled out and together to form one large bed for the four-to-six riders. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it worked. I even got one opportunity to take an overnighter which crossed from (then) Czechoslovakia through East Germany into West Germany. I had a sleeper berth on that one, with the added service of a East German Border Polizei shining a night-stick sized flashlight in my face at zero dark thirty.

I enjoyed the trains, especially the night trains; there is something about the gentle rocking motion, the fun of waking up at your destination, the freedom to walk around and enjoy the scenery, or go eat in a cafe car that just appealed to me.

The end of the Cold War and the gradual elimination of borders and customs among European countries should have been a golden age for trains. But as it happened, governments looked at the cost of maintaining national rail systems and they blinked. Deregulation allowed cut rate air carries like RyanAir to offer low-cost travel in direct competition. And the big national railways were directed to compete with each other, rather than cooperate. Long-range overnight train travel was among the casualties.

Recently, there has been a surge of interest in bringing back overnight trains. Some countries are limiting middle distance flights for ecological reasons. The rail system has solid infrastructure and most of the waste or redundancy has been wrung out of the system. So several companies or national lines are re-introducing overnighter trains.

When planning our current trip, I stumbled across the website “The Man in Seat 61” (link here) and it gave detailed instructions for almost any European rail adventure. Sure enough, there were such instructions to get from Amsterdam, where our cruise ended, to southern Italy, where our expat investigation began. We signed up for the OBB Nightjet train, run by Austria, which took us from Amsterdam Centraal to Zurich Hauptbanhof. There we caught another famous line across the Alps to Milan for a day stop. Then back to a day trip on a Frecciarossa high-speed (300 kph) train all the way to Bari. After a tour in Sicily, we signed up for a Trenitalia sleeper train which not only took us from Palermo, Sicily, to Rome, it also is the only train which boards a ferry (to cross the Messina Strait).

Sleeper car on the ferry, headed across the Strait of Messina

I was most looking forward to the Nightjet experience, but it didn’t live up to my expectations. First, it leaves at almost nine pm, which means you’ll be spending some quality time in the train station with all your luggage. When time came to board, the car concierge couldn’t find the correct key to unlock the inner security door, leaving a pile of customers stuck halfway into the train. This was an augur of things to come. She was very good at telling us what she couldn’t do, but less helpful otherwise. She did explain that the “call button” worked (i.e., it rang in her work area) but she would rarely be there so don’t bother. Hmmmmm.

One of four beds shown: one more folds down on the left, and there are two up top across from each other

We booked a two person sleeper, which was private and cozy. There was an adequate air system which seemed to provide the warm/cool air desired, good storage space, and a hidden wash basin. The bed was comfy enough, although I did flag down the concierge and have her open the middle row bed (each cabin has four beds, three on one side and one on the other) since the rounded-off top of the cabin made my head and feet touch the opposing walls. We filled out a nice little card (in four languages) with a selection of six breakfast items like coffee, brötchen (fresh German rolls) cheese and various meats.

The ride itself was uneventful: a few stops, no interruptions, and very sleep-able. Some of the staff took to holding a conversation outside our cabin, but they moved on before it turned into a problem. Around seven in the morning, the concierge was due to deliver our breakfast order. By seven-thirty, I was getting concerned, since we were due to arrive before eight-thirty. She knocked on the cabin door to announce she had only some yogurt, coffee, and orange juice, and would we like that? You take what you can get, so we agreed. But what was the purpose of the elaborate order the night before? Finally, the train arrived on time in Zurich.

The Trenitalia night train boarded in Palermo just before seven in the evening, but it had no cafe car, so we were warned to bring a meal along if we wanted one. The cabin was smaller than the Nightjet one. Both were clearly refurbished stock from the 1970s/80s. Again, possibly four beds, good storage (although much of it is overhead, tough to use for a large suitcase), and a hidden sink. The cabin steward surprised us with some travel snacks, bottled water, and I was even able to buy a small bottle of wine.

The cabin was a little stuffy, so we turned on the air conditioning. It worked well for about ninety-minutes, then suddenly switched to heat. The cabin quickly turned into a sauna, so I jumped out to find the steward. I flagged him down, and explained what the problem was; he was probably the least-English-fluent person we met on the entire trip. But he nodded, put his hand on the air vent (warm), checked the control (set to coldest), shook his head, then . . . opened the window. That was it. He couldn’t turn the heat off, but he could open the window. Which sounds ok, except the train was travelling at more than one-hundred miles per hour. At that speed, the sound is deafening, worse still when you pass another train going in the opposite direction.

Sample test question: Pat leaves Palermo going east at 100 mph. His air conditioning stops working in ninety minutes. Assuming otherwise normal conditions, how long does it take for Pat to fall asleep?

A) Instantly, but he wakes every few seconds due to the noise.

B) thirty minutes, but the dripping sweat wakes him up.

C) two hours, then he dreams of murdering the cabin steward.

D) All of the above.

From the revised SAT

Granted, we made it from Amsterdam to Zurich, and Palermo to Rome, in one piece. And the cost was less than separate airline tickets and a hotel room. But the experience was decidedly bargain, but not at cut-rate prices. Maybe it will take a little longer for the night train experience to peak.

Our trips in business or first class aboard Trenitalia were better: faster, cleaner, more comfortable, better food, wifi, and customer service. If you book far enough in advance, they can be very economical, but that is an art form in itself, and I recommend the Seat 61 website for all the key tips.

So for the time being, only consider a sleeper train if it has a new cabin. Stick to day trips on the high speed lines, and leave the sleeping to hotels. Maybe someday the sleeper will return!

Sicily

Word association time: what word comes to mind when someone says Sicily? Probably mafia or Godfather, first. Maybe cannoli, but that could be linked to the famous “Leave the gun, take the cannoli” line from the movie, too. Until fairly recently, it was fair to connect the largest island in the Mediterranean Sea with organized crime. Mafia control, portrayed in the Godfather movie trilogy, got so bad in the 1990s that they literally blew up several judges who had the audacity to question their hold. But la Cosa Nostra (as they are known) overplayed their hand, and the bombing led to a sustained campaign to break them down. Successive Italian governments tracked them down, and even Pope Francis joined in, excommunicating them in 2014. After thirty years, organized crime has returned to the shadows, unable to flex its muscles in the daylight.

But Sicily remains a poor, underdeveloped place with an abundance of history and culture. Whether the former attributes outweigh the latter is a matter of personal opinion.

We started our tour in Palermo, the island’s one-time capital and largest city. Palermo was a royal city, and a must-see part of the Grand Tour for European nobility in the eighteenth century. It has a proud heritage that mixes Phoenician, Roman, Greek, Norman, Arab, and Spanish influences. But today these influences largely reside in monuments and meals, and the main feel of the city is a blue-collar, slightly grimy vibe. I’d call it Naples without the cachet.

The other large city is Catania, on the east coast, literally in the shadow of Mount Etna. It has some of the same challenges, but seems a little more successful, having more a university town vibe than Palermo. The volcano is a must-see tourist stop, so that’s one advantage; it also accounts for unique soil and terroir, benefiting wines, cheeses, vegetables and the like.

One small lava field on Etna, which dominates the eastern shore

Getting around Sicily is a challenge. First, it’s large. Second, it is mountainous. It does have a bus, train, and car routes, but all of it runs on a sinuous network that could make a Formula One driver queasy. Palermo and Catania have decent airports, the latter subject to Mount Etna’s whims. So you can spend a lot of time getting from one site to another, or even around a town.

Monks built a earthen wall to protect against the 1669 Etna eruption. Now they have a two-tiered campus

The small towns in Sicily are inviting, once you can get to them. There life operates on a different level. They benefit from the fertile volcanic soil and the warm and (usually) moist climate, but mostly from the history. On the island, you can find some of the best Greek temples, Roman villas, baroque churches, and even Punic sites.

Maybe you like history?

How about scenery?

Of course there’s always the food:

Caponata and “spicy” potatoes

Sicily? Worth a visit. Given the geography, I suggest a tour, especially one themed to what you like: history? Food? Wine? Your ethnic background? One challenge is that Sicily is already warm in the traditional “shoulder” season, so the crowds start building earlier in the Spring than elsewhere in Europe. As to our sweepstakes for another expat site, this visit confirmed it is off our list. While it is charming and alluring, it is too hard to get to and too hard to get around. If I was an Italian-American looking to rediscover my Sicilian roots, it might be a different story.

Hands down, still the best photo of the trip!

Bari, Puglia

My Sweetheart, having a good time

I know, you’re thinking, “Bari? Why are you in Bari? Wait, where is Bari?” Answering the last question first, Bari is a port city on the Adriatic coast of Italy, across from Albania, and it’s the capital of the Italian region of Puglia, often referred to in English as Apulia. But to make it easy, Puglia is the heel of the Italian “boot.”

“Why” merits a longer answer. This part of our trip is to experience a taste of expat life in southern Italy. Like we did in Spain’s Andalucia in January, we’re visiting this expat hot-spot to see how it “feels” to us. No agenda, no list of must-see/do’s, just six nights in Bari Vechia (old town). Southern Italy has become something of a magnet for American expats, especially those with Italian roots. The region has great weather, great food (‘natch), and decent value for cost of living, including housing.

We arrived on a Wednesday evening, expecting a quiet, work-night scene for a regional capital of 300,000+. So we were surprised by large crowds, closed streets, and a very festive atmosphere. When I asked the taxi driver if this was a normal sight for a late Spring weekday, he said, “no, it’s the festival for San Nicolas.”

Basilica of San Nicolas (very Norman or Romanesque!)

Now I knew Bari had an affinity for Saint Nick (San Nicolas de Bari is one of his official titles), and I knew all about Saint Nick in his Santa Claus personna, I even knew he originally was Bishop of Myra, in present-day Turkiye. But his feast day is December 6th, not May 9th. What gives? Seems we stumbled into an interesting historical phenomenon which goes back over 900 years, involving Muslims, Catholics, Orthodox, Turks, Byzantines, Venetians, relics, miracles, and Vladimir Putin. Seriously.

The Saint, back from his boat trip and walk around town

Nicolas was a famous Bishop in Myra, martyred during the Diocletian persecution around 343 Christian Era (CE). He was a Greek living in the Roman Empire, known for his piety and many miracles. Although there are no definitive accounts of his life, his cult emerged after his death. He is beloved by both the Orthodox and Catholic Rites of Christianity, becoming the basis for Santa Claus in the latter, while there are more churches dedicated to him in Moscow than any other Orthodox saint. He is the patron saint of sailors, prostitutes, repentant thieves, brewers, pawn-brokers, and students, groups which are certainly not mutually exclusive.

The saint’s remains resting place, and the devotion they attract

In 1054 CE the Church split into competing Catholic and Orthodox branches in the Great Schism, and in 1087 the Seljuk Turks overran the Bishopric of Myra, capturing the tomb of Saint Nick. A group of merchants and sailors in Bari, Italy, decided to raid and return (most of, Venetians later grabbed the rest) the saint’s remains to Christian hands. They brought them back to Bari on May 9th, establishing a “feast of the translation” (i.e., transportation, which sounds so much better than “theft”) at a new church in Bari. We had wandered into the middle of that feast.

The Crypt Church

And what a feast. Dignitaries from East and West attend, this year the biggest being the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem. The statue of San Nicolas is collected up by the faithful and processed down to the docks, where sailors take it out for a night at sea. The next day, they re-enact the “translation” and the faithful gather to welcome their beloved saint home. The statue has a “skirt” attached to it (covering up the men carrying it) so it looks like it “walks” up from the port to the basilica. It moves to a spot on a promenade where it stays while masses of Thanksgiving are held in the Basilica Catholic Church upstairs and the Orthodox Crypt Church below, where the saint’s remains, well, remain. During the final mass, a priest crawls under the altar to the tomb containing the remains, unlocks it, and draws out: water. Although the box containing the bones is sealed, some form of liquid, called manna by the faithful, has been accumulating since the saint died. Of course this manna has miraculous properties and is diluted and widely shared among the believers.

One of the clothes used to collect the manna

What’s really a miracle to me is the way Catholic and Orthodox get along so well during all this, whereas in Jerusalem and elsewhere they are usually at each other’s ecclesiastical throats. For example, even Putin was allowed to make a pilgrimage to Bari in 2007! So Bari is full of Orthodox and Catholic faithful.

The view from our balcony: three eras of church wall
Pulpo looked better than it tasted

Bari Vecchia, where we stayed, is a typical medieval maze of tiny streets, repurposed castles, palaces and churches, with a blossoming harbor and new city spreading out landward from the small peninsula. The entire area is easily walkable: mostly flat, and our evening passeggiata often went completely around the seafront. There are oodles of cafes serving up espresso, osterias for seafood, pizzerias for focaccia barese. The locals are especially proud of their local pasta, called orecchiette or little ears. Women still set up tables in the narrow streets and make the pasta fresh while you watch. We were impressed with the local Primitivo and Negroamare red varietal wines. The pasta and focaccia were excellent; we have yet to find pulpo (octopus) which rivals what we find in Mexico, but the search goes on!

In addition to all that Saint Nick history, Bari has a surfeit of other historical regimes. Its earliest traces are Phoenician and Greek, then Roman, Byzantine, Norman, and finally Spanish, with each group leaving a mark architecturally. Under the Aragonese Queen Isabella, Bari passed to her daughter Bona Sforza as Duchess. She later married and outlived King Sigismund the Old of Poland, holding both titles (Queen of Poland and Duchess of Bari, among others) at the same time. So much for the patriarchy.

We took two day trips from Bari: thirty minutes south (on the local train) to Polignano a Mare, and forty minutes north to Trani. We wanted to see what smaller, less touristy towns in the area were like. Polignano is a small town famous for its cliffs, and Red Bull even sponsors a cliff diving event there every year. Trani has a bustling port and a fantastic cathedral.

Seaside Cathedral of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

To be honest, the entire coast of Puglia is filled with small-to-medium sized towns that are very similar. Each has a small beach or port area, an old city, then a newer development (usually around the main train station) which consists of apartment blocks. Weekend or Summer vacation apartments for Italians stretch out from there. I would be hard-pressed to tell you which to select to visit; all have something to offer, but there isn’t a lot to distinguish between them in my opinion.

Puglia has been a tourist destination for Italians–looking for a quiet, inexpensive beach/shore trip–for a long time. It delivers on that promise, and remains less expensive, less pretentious (I’m looking at you, Amalfi coast), but still pleasant. Whether it has what it takes to be right as an expat haven for us? That’s a question still pending!

I only had to pay the tour guide five Euros to concoct a story requiring everyone to kiss under this arch to ensure a happy marriage.

Un momento milanese

I wish I could give you a full (not fulsome) review of the wonderful northern Italian city of Milano, aka Milan. But we were only there less than twenty-four hours, so a limited review is all I can provide. Suffice it to say the city deserves a much longer investigation, and since it is an international air hub, look to visit it to begin or end your next European journey.

After Amsterdam, we booked an overnight train trip on Austria’s OBB Nightjet which took us in early evening from Amsterdam Centraal to a morning arrival in Zurich. There we caught a connection to Milan on a quite picturesque route over, through and under the Alps. More on those train trips will be forthcoming later on our trip.

Fresh breads

We arrived in Milano Centrale in the mid afternoon and checked in at the Hotel Bristol immediately next door to the station. The Bristol is a throwback to classy European hotel style with well-decorated rooms, eclectic art, and a breakfast buffet to die for. We explained to the concierge that we were in town for just one meal, right now, which unfortunately falls between the Italian lunch and dinner hours. He directed us to an osteria, Mama Rossa’s, a few blocks away. It was fantastic, and the waiter couldn’t help himself but to give give us an amuse bouche, extra bread, extra wine, and a lesson in Puglian cuisine, once he learned that’s where we were headed next.

Caprese, anyone?
Just looking at this again makes my mouth water

We waddled/staggered (did I mention the free apperitivo? The gratis limoncello?) out of Mama’s and jumped on the metro down to the Duomo: Milan’s majestic cathedral. The Duomo is quite literally a site to behold. Every corner, every window, every spire and doorway is covered with frescoes, carving, and religious symbolism. If you go–and you should–take a guided tour or get an audio guide and take your time. But we weren’t there for the tour. We just wanted to visit and pray.

I have mentioned previously that many European churches, basilicas, and cathedrals have tourist charges, but also permit “the faithful” to visit free of charge. The cost is just decorum and limited or no photography. We found the religious entrance and asked if we could go in and pray. The female guard took a look at me, wearing a small back pack and speaking English, and my wife, with a real camera around her neck. She said, “Not now. You should wait for the next Mass.” “Ok,” we replied, “when is it?” “Five-thirty.” “Great,” we said and walked around to a place where we could sit for thirty minutes and wait.

Such attention to detail!

I watched as the guard let one group of locals (no handbags, no back packs, no cameras, speaking Italian) after another through to pray. I could tell she was watching me, watching her. She finally decided we must be legitimate, and she waved us over at five-fifteen. We found our way around to a small chapel directly behind the main altar, where we got the opportunity to attend a full Mass in Italian on a Tuesday evening. We made a point of thanking the guard on the way out!

May the Lord forgive me for a quick shot from behind the main altar!

Exhausted from our “relaxing” overnight train adventure, with bellies full of gnocchi, spinach, and meatballs and livers reeling from wine and spirits, we called it a night, knowing we were on the road again the next morning to Puglia.

This was just a hit-n-run visit; we knew that going in. Milan has so much art, fashion, culture and industry it demands your time. Still, it was a special meal, a special hotel, and a special Mass: of these great visits are made!

Amsterdam

Since our transatlantic cruise deposited us in Amsterdam, we decided to take an extra day and see what this unique and interesting city has to offer. No, not in the way of the red light district, nor in the coffee houses. Both of these quintessential “Amsterdam” things are embarrassing to the locals. They are trying to disperse the brothels, and make tourist use of cannabis more difficult if not illegal. Signs were everywhere prohibiting public joint smoking, but we could barely walk along the canals without choking on the noxious weed. And why would anyone want to take pictures of women who find so-called sex work a career choice?

If you do word association with “Amsterdam” you’ll get a lot of those two social problems (prostitution and marijuana), but what you should get is history, art, architecture, and even food. Which is what we found. Amsterdam is a very walkable city, and has great/affordable public transportation in metros, trains, busses and trams. We only touched the surface of its artistic riches, visiting the Rijksmuseum to see its holdings of Van Gogh, Rembrandt, and Vermeer. Likewise, the Dutch Maritime Museum has a full complement from the days of the Dutch East India Company, when ships like this brought the wealth of the world home to the bustling ports.

Replica at the Maritime Museum

We even found a fabulous little museum called “Ons’ Lieve Heer op Solder” or “Our Lord in the Attic.” Seems after the Dutch separated from the Spanish Catholic Hapsburgs, they instituted an unusual form of religious toleration: every person was free to believe in whatever religion they wished in private, but only Dutch Calvinist churches were permitted public worship. All other religious spaces were confiscated and prohibited. This led to the creation of secret “house churches,” invisible from the street, which the authorities tolerated. One such secret church still exists as a museum!

Dutch food is a combination of hearty northern European fare (potatoes, meat and vegetables in pies and rolls), seafood, and influences from the former colonial territories, especially Indonesia. For example, you can get a tasty peanut satay sauce on just about anything the Dutch serve: I got it on a meatball and pickle sandwich! They also love their croquettes, basically ground up whatever in batter and fried.

The Dutch seem to be struggling with their reputation for being tolerant, well-meaning folk. Take their love of bike riding. It works well for them in a place like Amsterdam, it’s efficient, it’s ecological, it’s healthy. Just don’t get in their way. Think about that for a second. When people drive that way in the US, we call their rudeness out. We watched mobs of Dutch cyclists zooming everywhere, among crowds, cars, and clueless tourists, but somehow this was all ok because, well, why? Rude is rude, even on two wheels.

Likewise, we had to literally shove people out of the way to get on and off the tram, which loads from one set of doors and unloads from another. This system should work well, but on more than once occasion we saw locals just enter the trams and block the door, even after a polite English “excuse me.” And yes, everyone speaks English there.

Tack on the aforementioned religious “toleration,” and the way public drinking and smoking is winked at. Dutch officials spend a lot of time and money on public works just to get the streets cleaned up during the work week, money which might be saved with a little more prevention up front. We’re early-to-bed types, but we heard some partiers at the next breakfast table discussing how hard it was to get down the street between the drunks and the vomit . . . on a Sunday night. The government has even taken to advertising in the UK press telling Britons just to just stay home: no more stag/hen parties!

Verdict? Amsterdam is an interesting place, and a unique one. I’d say it’s worth a short visit, easily accomplished in conjunction with a river/ocean cruise or with a stay over at Schipol airport. Have I seen better art, ate better food, met friendlier people? Yes. But the city itself is so different, and the history so rich, it’s worth it even if you have to cough up some second-hand weed, step over the vomit, or get clocked by a biker.

Transatlantic

This post finds you from its origin deep amidst a crossing of the Atlantic Ocean. That itself is a wonder, even in the middle of this instantaneous and omnipresent age of communications. Why are we crossing “the big pond?” That’s a story worth telling, and more.

Only sight like this for 100+ light-years in every direction

We’ve noticed that our annual springtime pilgrimage to Europe suffered from the effects of that red-eye flight and subsequent jet lag, costing us a few days recovery every time. We tried preparing for the time change, avoiding the free alcohol, adjusting our eating, flying premium economy or even business class, but these only partially mitigated the effects. In planning the trips, I became resigned to getting a decent flight schedule and just adjusting from there. Then a neighbor mentioned he and his wife no longer flew to Europe in the Spring, they took a repositioning cruise there. I questioned adding the cost of a cruise on to the cost of visiting Europe, and he pointed out that the approximately two week cruise cost about the same as round trip business airfare.

Of course I thought he was kidding, but when I researched it, there it was in black and white. Seems every Spring, cruise lines sortie parts of their fleet from America to Europe (mostly the Mediterranean) to position the ships for summer cruising. The return trip in the Fall sets up all those Caribbean cruises in the Winter. There are some smaller fleet movements in the Pacific and to/from South America, but we were interested in the transatlantic leg.

Why are they cheaper than most cruises? First off, they involve different embark and disembark locations, on different continents, which make them more challenging for vacation planners. Second, the nature of the trip is mostly open ocean, and most vacation cruisers like port calls. Third, it’s always two weeks, in Spring and Fall, which means families really can’t afford the time commitment. So the clientele is older retirees, frequent cruisers, and people like us trying it out for transport. All of this applies to the repositioning cruises. There is also one line, Cunard, which operates the Queen Mary II and does a week+ direct cruise between New York and England throughout most of the year.

One thing I noticed immediately is that the best deals pass quickly. While most people don’t even consider transoceanic cruises, the number of those who do is growing and they are passionate about them. Such travelers snapped up the best deals. We ended up on the Celebrity Silhouette leaving Fort Lauderdale for Bermuda, the Azores, Ireland, then Amsterdam. While this is our first Celebrity cruise, we have cruised many times on other lines, and here are some lessons learned:

  • Use a travel agent (TA). I usually do all my booking myself, but there are so many variables to a cruise, and TAs also get volume discounts and other freebies, making them worth your while.
  • If you don’t see a great deal on the cruise you want, book a cheap inside cabin and watch for “sales” and “bids for upgrades.” Join CruiseCritic (.com) and register with the appropriate roll call board for your ship. There the cruise fanatics (and they are legion) will let you know everything you need to for a great cruise. Since transatlantic cruises are still rarely full, there will almost certainly be a chance to upgrade, almost always at a reduced price. The same goes for extras like drink packages, internet access, spa access, and specialty dining. Your TA and fellow cruisers on CruiseCritic will be able to help you navigate when to purchase what you want. For example, on our cruise, we got a basic internet package as part of our room, but we hesitated to upgrade to streaming internet because of the cost. Once on board, Starlink access was offered for a very reasonable rate. On the other hand, I am told that specialty restaurants are much cheaper to reserve before the cruise.
  • Transatlantic cruises are not for those prone to seasickness, nor for first time cruisers. Our crossing has been a rainy, cool-but-not-cold, and choppy. Everybody walks with that brush-your-left-shoulder-on-the-port-wall, brush-your-right-shoulder-on-the-inner-wall wobble. Not something you want to face if suffer seasickness, or don’t know if you do. Not to mention whether you will enjoy “at sea” days back-to-back-to-back.
  • Explore your ship. We found a little known quiet lounge tucked under the spa, which has proved a godsend when the weather sends all those sun-worshipers off the top deck looking for a place to park for the day. There are drink stations, small bars, game rooms, even a library, all of which might escape the eye of the incurious cruiser.
  • On a two week cruise, pace yourself. Last year we did ten days on a Panama Canal cruise, and felt like we almost ate ourselves to death. We had just begun intermittent fasting, which for us means eating only breakfast and lunch. But for the cruise we thought, “what the heck, let’s hit the specialty restaurants for dinner.” Bad idea. This cruise, we have kept to our routine, and it is working for us. We have received increasingly concerned voice mail messages in our room, reminding us we haven’t visited the main dining room for dinner, and “do we need help?” I guess there aren’t too many intermittent fasters on cruise ships.
  • Most cruise lines retain the nickel-and-dime routine, so that what you spend in the end is generally greater than what you paid up front. Virgin Cruises is an exception, and we look forward to trying them in the future. But you need to pay attention to what your room, status, and packages entitle you. Our “classic” drink packages gets us unlimited booze, but not “top shelf” liquor or some specialty drinks. We get all the special coffee drinks at the cafe, but not carbonated water, except from the tap at the bar. I know, what? There are charges for classes, specialty drinks, flights, shore excursions, you name it. So be careful, or you’ll end up doubling your costs (but not necessarily your fun).
  • If you recall cruises as stuffy affairs requiring dressy clothes, you’re out of date. Even the “classy night” (replacing “formal night”) is just a collared shirt and pants for men, dress or slacks & top for women. Some folks go full-up formal, but that’s no longer a requirement. Mostly they don’t want beach/gym wear in the formal dining room, but it’s ok in the many cafes, snack bars, and bars.
  • Cruising remains extrovert heaven, with an opportunity to sit with strangers at every meal, bar, or event, along with games (trivia, password, etc.). But the mixing fun is not mandatory. For introverts like us, there are plenty of hiding places and tables for two.
  • One curiosity is that ship’s time is set by the Captain, not the position on the Earth. Our Captain has moved us ahead one hour per night, getting us to the upcoming port visit time a day early, so no one is showing up confused about what time it is. The day-after-day time changes are much easier to deal with than the all at once six-hour change of a red-eye flight to Europe. Many frequent cruisers tell us they prefer the westbound Fall trip, as they gain an hour every night enabling increased night owl activity. To each their own.
  • Cruise lines vary in temperament: there are party lines, classy lines, lines for families, lines for retirees, although all folks are welcome on all cruises. There are also specialty cruises for wine-lovers, music fans, etc. All of which is to say do your research and find out whether the ideal transatlantic cruise you want is also a Star Wars theme cruise, especially if you’re a Trekkie.
St Colman’s Cathedral in Cobh, Ireland
The “deck of cards” row houses, Cobh

Was it worth it? We’re almost done, and I can confirm the time changes are far less dramatic and easy to adjust to when done once every other night. The cruise entertainment has been better than I expected, but still just worth the price (i.e., already included), and the sea days can become a little monotonous. With a little more attention to pricing and deals, and an earlier start in selecting which cruise line/route, I’d say this is an attractive alternative. Slainte!

Letting the head settle on my Beamish stout

Spring Forward !?!?!

America just went through its annual rite of passage, jumping forward to daylight saving time. It is always accompanied by another round of complaints, confusion, and protest. Americans have so little to argue about, it’s a good thing they still have this (sarcastic font). In the end, it’s all a battle about sunlight, when you get it, and what you call it.

Let’s start with the basics. The amount of daylight one receives daily depends primarily on one’s latitude (a north-south measure). At the equator, it’s twelve hours daily, always. As you move north or south, days become increasingly longer (in summer) or shorter (in winter). The seasonal daylight change is actually due to the Earth’s inclination (tilt), but let’s not introduce astronomy, ok? So there’s little reason to fool with the clocks for lands near the equator, as the amount of sunlight at say 7:00 am is roughly the same, January through December. But as you move toward the poles and light becomes dearer in the dreary winter, your children will be waiting for the school bus in the dark, or you will be driving home from work at night. Likewise, plentiful Summer daylight could be wasted in bed, so the idea was born to simply change what we call the time to adjust that variable to when the sunlight is available.

Next subject is geography. Most countries lie in a single time zone. It is an odd coincidence that most countries are either roughly square or taller (north-south) than wider. While they may switch from standard to daylight saving times (and back) during the year, the whole country is affected uniformly. If your nation fits snugly into a time zone, the fact it gets dark at 5:00 pm in one city and 5:15 in another and 5:30 in a third is hardly worth arguing about.

The major exceptions to this rule are the United States, Canada, Russia, China, and Australia, which span multiple times zones. Russia spans the most (nine), followed by Canada (five and a half!), China (should be four, but is one), the continental USA (four) and Australia (three). Which of these things is not like the other? Only in the US is the population spread out both across and within the time zones. Russia and Australia have the bulk of their people in a single time zone and vast relatively unpopulated other time zones. China is likewise, but simply mandates everyone be on “Beijing time.” Screw you, Xinjiang if dawn is at 11:00 am! Canada has population spread, but is still relatively sparse. In three of the four continental US time zones, there are several large cities on different (east-west) sides of a single time zone. Which means there are many people who will be advantaged or disadvantaged by being in the same time zone. When you try to make the bus stop happen in daylight in Boston, the commute home in Detroit is pitch dark, or vice versa). That is the simple reason it’s always been a contentious issue in the US, especially more so than in other countries.

Let’s take Mexico for example. The federal government did away with daylight saving (note there is no extra “s”) time last year. Mexico has four time zones, with the bulk of the population being in the Mexico City time zone. Quintana Roo (home of Cancún and the other resorts) mirrors US Eastern time, as that is where the bulk of its tourist business lives. Likewise, the Mexican border states mirror their northern cousins, switching or not to simplify travel and trade across the border. Mexico is in the tropics, so the real daylight change is between one and two hours at most, so no one is terribly disadvantaged and time doesn’t become a contentious issue.

Why do we even change times? It started as a wartime experiment when the US adopted it in 1918 during WWI. The idea was to economize on power and fuel by adjusting times so war industry workers had access to the most daylight in Summer. No one has ever definitively proved any real advantage to it, however. The initial opposition was attributed to farmers who complained about messing with Mother Nature, but this is probably apocryphal, since farmers work on natural schedules, and don’t care whether city folk call dawn 5:00 am or 6:00 am; it’s just when the animals need feeding.

Another silly argument to dispense with is based on the recurrent studies which show negative health effects from time changes. These are what is known as correlation–not causation–effects, meaning two things vary together but one does not cause another. If you ever heard the phrase “what does that have to do with the price of tea in China?” the meaning of that obscure saying is that you can find many variables that increase or decrease together, but no one should then assume one causes the other to change. How do we know there is no direct causation? If there was a causation between time changes and major negative health outcomes, the millions of business people and tourists who fly across the Atlantic and Pacific every day would be dying in droves. It doesn’t happen, so there is no causation, just correlation. What does happen is jet lag, which is lousy but not fatal.

What is very real is an increase in things like accidents when driving or walking at night, so forcing commuters or children to do so costs lives. But remember, making it work in New York means it doesn’t work in Indianapolis! There are workarounds. People in Xinjiang keep Beijing time officially, but do all their scheduling on “local time.” The central time zone in Australia is on a half hour offset, as is Newfoundland & Labrador in Canada. But that involves relatively small groups of people and places without that much travel between them.

So if daylight saving time is so great, why not keep it permanently? It’s only great in Summer, when it maximizes your time outdoors in the sunshine. The US tried this in 1974, when Congress repealed the “fall back” time change during the Summer of that year , and President Nixon signed the bill into law. Seventy-five percent of American supported the measure. When Winter came, the new Summer-focused time failed miserably (darkness for school busses, for example), leading to a massive change in public opinion and the repeal of the repeal by then-President Ford in October, 1974.

Time doesn’t have to change. Time changes probably don’t save power, or fuel, but they also don’t make you sick. What they do, do, is maximize your access to plentiful sunlight in both Summer and Winter. If that’s important to you, embrace DST. Or move to Singapore. But please stop complaining!

Palma de Mallorca, Spain

le Seu as the locals call it

Forty years ago, at the height of the Cold War, a lowly US Army First Lieutenant took his pregnant wife on a week-long vacation (we didn’t have the fancy term “babymoon” back then) from Bavaria to the Balearic islands. They spoke no Spanish, had no cell phones, and had only a 1:250,000 government map to navigate by. They stayed in a tourist-package hotel near Magaluf, one which targeted Brits, evidenced by a full English breakfast and the London tabloids at the front desk. The hotel next door was for Germans: it had brötchen mit käse and the Süddeutsche Zeitung to read. From this the 1LT learned that Americans weren’t unique in wanting things from home, even on vacation.

even impressive at night!

Only his pregnant wife had an international driver’s license–a must back then–so the Lieutenant was reduced to the role of navigator. They got lost, more than once, on mountain roads, looking for a religious relic in a remote village, following a tiny line on a large map (insert your favorite Lieutenant with a map joke here). They arrived in small towns without any ability to ask for directions or even for help. They sought and found a convent offering a unique local pastry by walking around a village until they saw a nun, then following her home. They ended up on a “bilingual” cave tour where the local guide described the cave formations for ten minutes in Spanish, then stopped and said. “The Madonna. See? The Madonna.” They attended a silly recreation of a knight jousting competition (complete with eat-roast-chicken-with-your-hands) because it actually made sense regardless of the language.

and more so inside

It was their first great travel adventure. They survived, proof that there are Guardian Angels and they do look after fools and children (the couple qualified both ways). It was a great success, and they had stories to tell which still amuse themselves and others to this day.

When we started on planning a visit to try out the region of southern Spain, Judy asked me if we would be far from Palma de Mallorca? Why, no, and so here we are, forty years later, back where all the wanderlust started. The Cathedral still stands as mighty and majestic as always, but there’s an entirely new chapel with a Antoni Gaudi influence. The arch which was a must-see in the 1980s (“it had a mix of Roman, Muslim, and Christian influences”) is only a footnote now, found via Google Maps. One can’t get lost, even navigating the winding backstreets of the old city, because GPS tracks your every step. And the little lanes and winding country roads are now well-lit streets and highways courtesy of the European Union.

The now-obscure Arch

We speak Spanish, but everybody speaks English, too. Oh, and some German here. There are still little hotels catering to Brits and Germans, but who needs newspapers when your smart phone is in constant touch with news back home. On our last night, the hostess at the tapas bar heard us speaking English, so she assigned the English-speaking Argentine waitress to our table. When Judy started ordering in Spanish and we explained our home in Mexico, the waitress loved it. We even found a little Catholic church back near Magaluf, where the very English congregation holds one English-language Mass every Sunday with a very Nigerian priest presiding. Such is the world today!

Mallorca retains its unique culinary traditions, a mix of Spanish and North African, as translated by the Catalan settlers who civilized the islands. Plenty of delicious seafood, rabbit (like Malta), olives in every form, and of course tapas. The road signs are a mix of Mallorquin (local Catalan dialect) and Spanish, which at times even defeated Señor Google Maps. We traveled among the locals, visiting Sunday markets and strolling through the plaza, secure in the knowledge that even in a tiny village, we could find a kebab place for lunch–because who doesn’t want kebab for lunch? Apparently the whole word does!

We walked, we drove, we wandered, seeing how much had changed and how little, too. Mostly we recalled how much we had changed . . . and how little, too! The Balearic islands are known for partying, nature, and glitz (Mallorca, Menorca, and Ibiza respectively, although there’s a mix on all three). We were then youngsters “putting away childish things” and becoming adults. We had dreams of children and career and travel. Now we’re far more mature–at least in years–and we have realities of grandchildren, retirement, and still travel.

Perhaps Buckaroo Banzai was right: “no matter where you go, there you are.”

Andalucía, Spain

What’s better than being an expat? Maybe an intercontinental expat? A Tri-national? We’ve noticed that every Spring, we like to head to Europe for a few weeks. It is the period of the worst weather where we live–although I would note it is still not bad weather, per se, just dry and warm (90 F) with no rain in sight. And it’s shoulder season in Europe, with improving weather there but without the large throngs of tourists and expensive airfares. We would spend more time there in Europe, but we get tired doing the bag-drag as we visit all those wonderful places. Which got me to thinking, which is always dangerous, as my wife likes to say.

Córdoba Courtyards I

What if we got a holiday home somewhere in Europe, where we could go and stay for an extended period of time. How long? EU rules permit tourists to stay 90 days out of each 180, so an April-May-June period is doable. I considered Airbnb and its variants, but we don’t want to be trying a new place every year, and there is no guarantee you can get the same place. We don’t want “a” place, we want our place. But what kind of place?

Córdoba Courtyards II

Has to have great weather during the target dates. Small city or village, not big urban setting. Apartment or small house; we don’t need a big property, and can’t have a yard or garden to maintain. Are such things available, and affordable? Turns out they are! We’re not talking about those One Euro houses you sometimes see advertised: here’s two words of advice on those–JUST NO! But reasonable and affordable small homes and apartments are available for a few tens of thousands of US dollars! Why?

Columbus tomb in Seville

Many European countries are on a population downslope, a decade or more ahead of the US, which is experiencing the same phenomenon. In brief, there are two sets of aging grandparents with one child each, the coupling of which has one child. So there are three households, many times in small cities or villages, and only one young adult to inherit them. This adult wants to live in the big city, where there are jobs and opp-or-tunities (as Eminem sang), not in Grandma’s village. So these small houses are for sale, and there are many of them, which drives prices down. The trick is to find one which doesn’t require enormous renovation, is livable, and is in a town not on the brink of itself expiring.

Scenic overlook of the gorge in Ronda

My basic research indicated two target areas: southern Spain (Andalucía) and southern Italy (Puglia and Sicily). Both have great weather and many available properties. Spain has a well-developed expat market paved by Brits back before Brexit. Italy has the same for Americans returning to their Italian roots. Spain has a language advantage (for us), a better, high-speed, rail network, and allows tourists to own cars. So we made our way to Andalucía to see how it feels.

Málaga Waterfront

Much as Jalisco summons up Mexico, Andalucía calls to mind Spain. Tapas, Flamenco, bull-fighting, Jamon Iberico, and more history than anyone can possibly consume. Córdoba and its alcazar, Málaga and the sea, Granada and the Alhambra. It all felt oddly familiar. We had no language difficulty at all. We refused to adopt the Ca-thil-ian lisp, but no one paid our “esses” any attention. A few times we caused some confusion with a pronunciation gaffe, but generally everybody was welcoming and genial. The culture was easy to adapt to, with the exception of the hours. They keep to the afternoon siesta, but eat another meal around 10:00 pm! Given we have taken to eating only breakfast and lunch, we got along fine, but I have no idea how Spaniards do it, eating so much so late. And it remains the case that nothing happens before noon on Sunday, owing to Saturday’s late night revels.

Snow-capped mountains from the Alhambra

The weather in January is about as cold as it gets here: 50-60 daytime, 40-50 nighttime. Bright sun most days, with fair skies. Cafes are still open, and restaurants have outdoor heaters. Even the beaches are still active, although more for exercise than sun-worshipping. The summer can get beastly hot (>100 F), so air-conditioning is probably a must, heating a maybe. Spring might require neither.

Cave bar in Setenil

Andalucía passed all our tests. We probably won’t go looking for a place in the big, touristy cities, even in the suburbs. But we saw plenty of smaller towns and even villages that were attractive options. Welcoming culture, great food and weather, good-to-great transatlantic options (including a nonstop from Guadalajara to Madrid): All boxes checked. Come Spring, we’ll give Southern Italy the test!

Stone age megalith in Antequera

Baja and the Ruta del Vino

Back after Christmas, we flew from Tijuana back home after getting stranded by bad weather. As a result, we ended up with a large credit on Volaris, a discount Mexican airline beloved by those who are under 5 feet 4 inches, travel with only a purse, and don’t really care what day you depart or arrive, as long as the cost is under $50 USD. I exaggerate. Only slightly.

Being a discount airline, Volaris helpfully expires your credit after only six months, relieving you of the burden of actually using them. Some of our hefty credit was about to expire, so we decided to risk another spin on the Volaris Wheel of Fortune. But where to go? Why not Baja California?

During our Christmas cruise, we visited Cabo San Lucas and Todos Santos, at the very bottom of the peninsula; so this time we headed back to Tijuana, to see the area inland at the very north of the peninsula, called la Ruta del Vino, which lies just north (and inland) from Ensenada.

This area, the valle de Guadalupe, is where 90% of Mexican wine is produced. Mexican wines have a growing reputation in the wine world, based on two important facts: the first is European vintners who wanted to go to the New World and try something new, and the second is Baja’s unique climate, which has many of the advantages of California’s wine growing regions without the costs.

Our concept was simple: fly up during the week, hit a few of the two hundred-plus wineries, eat at a few promising places, then come back home before the next weekend’s crowds. There was one flaw: Volaris. They attempted to involuntarily change our itinerary twice before the trip, once moving our departure back a day, the other time changing our three-hour afternoon return flight into an overnight red-eye. I was able to adjust and keep the flights as we wanted. But of course, Volaris had the last word. When we arrived for our afternoon departure from Guadalajara, they announced a three-hour delay (no explanation, no weather, just sit and wait). We also got to enjoy Volaris’ unique boarding and de-boarding processes, modeled after those you might have last seen at Kabul international airport.

After surviving the one-row-at-a-time deboarding (which sounds good, but when one’s hand baggage is not directly above one’s seat, and you can’t get up to get ready until the flight attendant approves, it’s achingly slow), we found the 24-hour Alamo car rental kiosk empty. The taxi hawker told us he knew where Alamo’s office was; they were supposed to be at the airport, but of course they weren’t. As the taxi took us ever further from the airport area and into Tijuana, Judy finally got the Alamo office phone number to work, and they informed us to turn around and go back to a different location, where we finally got our vehicle. As this was the week after the Standard time change, we didn’t arrive till after dark. So our leisurely and scenic afternoon drive along the Pacific coast turned into fighting rush hour in Tijuana, then driving in the dark along the unlit roads of the Baja interior wilderness.

An “intersection” in Baja

And by wilderness I mean no streetlights, few road signs, and one (count it, one) paved highway. Topping it off, Waze decided a route over the mountain was a few kilometers shorter, so it sent us that way instead of on the highway through the valley. The blessing was that in the dark, I couldn’t see the cliffs we were snaking around. It was not a promising start.

Still, the morning dawned and we saw what we had missed the night before: the natural beauty and bounty of Baja. We had a cabaña at one of the boutique wineries, set amidst the vines. This is a growth industry: nearly every winery we saw was adding acreage, building cabañas, or enlarging tasting venues. The valley is close enough to San Diego that there is a steady stream of Americans taking day trips on guided tours, then there are the shore excursions from ocean cruisers, and finally the more adventurous types (like us) just arranging it all on their own.

Just a part of the valle

We have never been to Napa, but based on what I read and heard from others, the valle de Guadalupe could be described as either a poor-man’s Napa or Napa many decades ago. The vineyards are in, the wines are improving, the wineries are branching out into tours and restaurants. Higher-end gastronomic experiences are spreading, featuring fresh seafood and exotic fusion cuisine. There is a small but increasing set of gastropubs and microbreweries, too. The infrastructure remains pretty basic, but is geared toward American tourists. Most of the working locals we met at tastings were surprised to find gringos who spoke (or at least tired to) español and lived in Mexico.

If you don’t stop here, you may not be allowed to leave Baja!

Since we primarily eat breakfast and lunch, and our hotel provided a freshly made breakfast plate each morning, we were limited in our ability to sample the cuisine. One of our two lunches had to be at la cocina de Doña Estela, a local favorite once named the world’s best breakfast restaurant. Down a rutted dirt road, in the middle of nowhere (Baja, remember), we had a huge steaming plate of machaca (dried shredded beef re-hydrated while cooking with eggs, peppers, onions, etc.) and another of corn pancakes, a savory take on a usually sweet breakfast staple. With drinks, the total was around $500 MXP (perhaps $25-30 USD), and the portions large enough we could have skipped our first breakfast that morning. We didn’t, because like all hobbits, one must eat both breakfasts!

As to wines–we did come here to taste the wines after all–we had an enjoyable time sampling a variety of types of wineries. Again, one can’t miss L.A. Cetto, the largest Mexican winery and local mega-producer. This winery aims at the low-to-middle class market, aiming to make drinkable products for the average consumer. I’m no expert, but I am in the target demographic, and we liked their offerings. At the local wine museum, the curator told us her favorite boutique vintner was Magoni, so we tried that one, too. This was an intriguing, new winery in a beautiful location. We sat under a giant tree which had been cultivated to provide a tent-like canopy over about a hundred tasting seats and tables. Another enjoyable experience.

There are so many vintners experimenting in Baja you can find almost any combination: organic? Si. Straight traditional varietals? Si. Obscure blends? Si. The lure of a start-up region which doesn’t have many rules is attractive to some in the industry, who like working with unusual blends and varietals

Advice for visiting Baja? Either come midweek on your own, or get a tour. Many of the larger wineries (for tastings) and restaurants insist on reservations on weekends and during the high tourist season, and a tour will cover you for these. There are plenty of small, independent operators who won’t break your budget, and they help out local small business-types. I would plan to visit at least one of the scenic, high-end restaurants with a view for a sunset dinner. If you’re on your own, don’t overdo the tastings, and make sure your rental car has some off-road capability (most do). Don’t be afraid to try the seafood: its fresh and delicious! I doubt the wines are world-beaters (if you have that type of palate) but it might be fun to visit and taste at a place that eventually will be world-class. Enjoy!