Three-Course Meal at the Airport Lounge and Flight Experience

Stepping into the Air Canada Signature lounge, we immediately noticed it bore little resemblance to typical airport lounges. Rather than the sparse buffet tables and limited offerings we’d encountered elsewhere, this space offered full meal service – a complete three-course dining experience with attendants who actually served courses, paired with a selection of beverages.Beyond the seated service, a small buffet stood available for those who wanted seconds or something different. When our flight was delayed, we had no complaints – it meant more time in this pocket of calm before the journey ahead. We were comfortable, well-fed, and far removed from the chaos of the terminal.

I finally got to sit in seat 1A. All the time I flew, the seat would be something like 22F or something. Not this time. I got first seat on the plane, positioned at the absolute front. Settling into a lie-flat bed on an overnight flight, I enjoyed the solitude and space that seat 1A afforded, soundly falling asleep and waking up on the other side in the morning.

Arrival and Immediate Pleasures

We touched down in Málaga, Spain (a coastal city in the Andalusia region, known for its beaches and proximity to numerous white villages) in the early evening. Rather than heading directly to our accommodation, we sought out something to satiate our hunger. We found a Georgian restaurant and ordered their grilled prawns – the proteins had developed a charred exterior from high-heat cooking that added a complex, smoky layer to their natural sweetness. The meat remained tender inside whilst the exterior had taken on deep caramelised notes.

We also tried khinkali, which appeared enormous compared to what we expected. These Georgian dumplings are traditionally filled with spiced meat and wrapped in dough, but what makes khinkali special is the broth sealed inside. We ate them by hand as tradition dictates, and when we bit through the thin dough, the warm, savoury liquid inside spilled out. The meat filling was generous. We endearingly referred to them as “dalongbao” (a reference to their size compared to their Asian dumpling cousins).

Morning Light of Málaga and the Drive South

The next morning we walked along Málaga’s beachfront, where the Mediterranean stretched to the horizon under clear skies. After grabbing brunch at a seaside café, we headed south, driving towards our next destination: Tarifa.

Driving in Spain quickly proved to be an unenjoyable experience. The roads are peppered with roundabouts, which require constant attention and adjustment. Speed limits switch suddenly – from 60 km/h to 100 km/h and then down to 80 km/h within a short span of 30 seconds. This made it tricky on highways where some drivers slow excessively to keep within limits, while others try to accelerate but are thwarted by the frequent changes. It felt like an exercise in patience. It went on like this pretty much all the way from Málaga to Tarifa.

The Windswept Town at Spain’s Southern Edge

Tarifa sits at the southernmost tip of continental Spain, positioned precisely where the Mediterranean Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean. This narrow geographic point creates something unique: the Strait of Gibraltar (the 14-kilometre-wide waterway separating Spain from Morocco) acts as a natural funnel for wind. When pressure systems align on either side of the strait, the air accelerates through this bottleneck with a phenomenon called the Venturi effect – wind speeds intensify dramatically as the air is forced through increasingly narrow space. On good days, wind speeds exceed 30 knots, which is precisely why Tarifa has become a destination for windsurfing, kitesurfing, and other wind-dependent water sports.

Our hotel embraced Moroccan design throughout its interiors. Ornate metal lanterns cast filtered light across the room, and swirling geometric patterns decorated walls and archways. The hotel even stocked the minibar complimentarily, an unexpected gesture that meant we could enjoy local beers, wines, and snacks without additional charges. This thoughtful detail transformed what could have been a standard hotel stay into something that felt genuinely hospitable and welcoming.

The town itself carries centuries of strategic importance. During AD 710, a Moorish officer named Tarif ibn Malik led an expeditionary force here, and the town was renamed in his honour, becoming the first Moorish settlement on the Iberian Peninsula. The most impressive remnant of this period is the Castillo de Guzman el Bueno, a Moorish fortress originally constructed in AD 960 on orders from Caliph Abderraman III of Córdoba to defend against raids from Africa. Its trapezoidal shape follows the contours of the hillside on which it stands. The castle’s name comes from Alonso Perez de Guzman, who famously defended it during a 1294 siege by the Marinids (North African invaders) in an act so selfless it became legendary. The castle now operates as a museum, and from its ramparts, visitors can see across the Strait to the Rif Mountains of Morocco.

We spent time walking through Tarifa’s old town, where narrow streets wind between whitewashed buildings. The historic centre still carries the imprint of its Moorish past in its layout and architecture.

One distinctive structure caught my eye: a tower by the waterfront resembling Lisbon’s Tower of Belém. Although visually similar, this tower is actually the Castillo de Santa Catalina. Its location offered strategic views over the Strait of Gibraltar and surrounding seas, serving various military and meteorological purposes through the decades. Beneath and around the castle, 20th-century bunkers and coastal defences are visible, highlighting the area’s long-standing importance in maritime security.

Beyond the town itself lies a remarkable feature: a man-made causeway connects Tarifa to the Isla de las Palomas (also called the Isle of Tarifa), a small island at the continent’s southernmost point. What makes this connection extraordinary is that on one side of the island, waves roll in from the Atlantic, whilst on the other side, they arrive from the Mediterranean. Walking across that bridge puts you at the official dividing line between two ocean basins.

Final Thoughts

The hotel stood out for its combination of good food and warm hospitality, making our stay comfortable and inviting. As for Tarifa itself, beyond the wind sports that define its character, I didn’t get a sense of a vast array of activities. The town serves largely as a launching point for those heading across the Strait to Tangier, Morocco, making it a practical gateway more than a standalone destination for exploration.

Photo albums here: Málaga, and Tarifa

How Water Built a “Castle”

We learned from our guide that each terrace is a natural bowl of travertine, a limestone deposited when hot, calcium-carbonate spring water loses carbon dioxide and solidifies. Over millennia the process stacked basin upon basin, producing a 200-metre cliff that gleams as if it has never known a footprint.

UNESCO recognised both the geology and the adjacent Greco-Roman spa of Hierapolis in 1988, ensuring stricter water-flow management so the terraces retain their snowy coat.

Ruins with Stories in Stone

At the hilltop the ground levels into the ruins of Hierapolis, founded by the Attalid kings in the second century BCE.

The theatre dominates the skyline. We hiked up to the top an watched the sunset.

The city sits atop the Pamukkale fault zone, a geologically active area responsible for both the mineral-rich hot springs and the site’s seismic instability. Major earthquakes are recorded in 17 CE under Tiberius and again, even more devastatingly, in 60 CE under Nero. The city was rebuilt with Roman imperial funds, but the threat of further destruction always loomed. Additional earthquakes in the 14th and 17th centuries CE led to significant structural collapse and abandonment by the surviving population.

Within the ruins, stray animals call it home. Among the stray cats and dogs, a turtle stands out, a pet-trade species now ranked among the world’s most invasive reptiles.

The Myth of Cerberus

South-east of the stage lies the Ploutonion, once famed as “Pluto’s Gate”. Ancient writers described sacrificial bulls collapsing here while priests emerged unharmed. Modern gas probes explain the trick: a fissure still vents carbon dioxide strong enough to reach lethal concentrations near the ground.

From the viewing deck we could see the statue of Pluto and Cerberus guarding the gate to hell.

The Bare-Foot Gauntlet

The guide offered us two options to go back into town: 1) to take the bus back, or 2) walk down the terrace – reluctantly, I opted for the second option.

Visitors must walk the slope barefoot, a rule that protects the fragile crust but punishes one’s soles like walking on Lego.

We chose each step carefully, hunting for the smoothest stripes between ridges. The descent stretched only a few hundred metres, yet the stinging pressure made it feel closer to half an hour, each step a tactical decision rather than a stroll.

A Welcome Shift in Flavour

Once we all made it down, our guide took us to a restaurant that happened to be run by Chinese immigrants in Turkey. We slid chopsticks through shrimp fried noodles, a flavour more reminescent of home, something welcome especially by now I was slowly getting tired of Turkish food.

Hot Air Balloons

As we prepared to depart the next morning, we looked back to see hot air balloons launching into the morning sky.

See more of Pamukkale / Hierapolis here

The Stork Highway of Ancient Rome

Walking through Selçuk’s streets during the ongoing heat wave, we couldn’t help but notice the most unusual sight: massive white storks perched confidently atop Roman aqueduct ruins and modern utility poles alike. These aren’t just random visitors – they’re part of an annual migration pattern that has turned this historic town into Turkey’s unofficial stork capital.

Every March, storks return to Selçuk from their winter homes in sub-Saharan Africa. The storks choose the highest points available for their nests, including the remnants of Byzantine aqueducts that once supplied water to ancient Ephesus. Local authorities have even installed special platforms on utility poles to prevent the birds from electrocution while preserving their traditional nesting sites.

Mysteries of the Multi-Breasted Goddess

Our visit to the Ephesus Museum revealed one of archaeology’s most debated artifacts: a towering statue covered in what appears to be dozens of breasts. This is the famous Artemis of Ephesus, but those protuberances might not be what they seem.

The 292-centimetre-tall statue actually represents a fascinating scholarly controversy. While traditionally interpreted as multiple breasts symbolizing fertility, many experts now believe these oval objects are bull testicles, hung as offerings during sacrificial ceremonies. Some scholars even suggest they could be bee larvae, as bees were sacred to Artemis. What makes this debate particularly intriguing is that none of the “breasts” have nipples – a detail that ancient sculptors, masters of human anatomy, would hardly have overlooked.

This statue likely stood in the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, making it a tangible connection to one of antiquity’s most celebrated structures. The temple’s destruction by 401 CE means this museum piece represents our closest link to understanding how the ancient world venerated this powerful goddess.

Where Emperors Built Upon Apostles

The ruins of the Basilica of Saint John dominate Ayasoluk Hill, their weathered stones telling a story of imperial ambition, religious devotion, and inevitable decay. Emperor Justinian I commissioned this massive structure between 548 and 565 CE, designing it as both a pilgrimage destination and a worthy monument to house the tomb of John the Apostle.

The basilica measured 428 by 213 feet, making it potentially the seventh-largest church in the world if reconstructed today. Justinian modeled it after the Church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople, creating a cruciform structure crowned with six domes. The builders incorporated materials from the nearby Temple of Artemis and other Ephesian ruins, recycling ancient marble and stones into Christian architecture.

The basilica’s decline began with Arab raids in the 7th and 8th centuries, which forced the construction of defensive walls around the structure. By 1304, invading Seljuk Turks converted part of the building into a mosque, and in 1402, Tamerlane’s Mongol army destroyed it during their invasion. Earthquakes in the 1360s completed the devastation, leaving the impressive ruins we see today.

A Castle Built on Sacred Ground

Crowning Ayasoluk Hill above the basilica ruins stands a fortress that represents the practical realities of medieval defense. The Ayasoluk Castle, built during the Byzantine era around the 6th century CE, incorporates stones from dismantled Roman buildings, including materials from Ephesian structures.

The castle’s strategic position made it valuable to successive rulers. Seljuk Turks expanded it after conquering the area in 1090, and Ottoman forces later added their own modifications. The fortress enclosed fifteen towers connected by 1.5 kilometres of walls, protecting a small community that included a mosque, cisterns, baths, and residential quarters.

What makes this castle particularly fascinating is its relationship with the basilica below. Rather than destroying the Christian site, medieval builders incorporated it into their defensive strategy, using the basilica’s walls as part of the lower fortress complex. This created unique architecture where Islamic military architecture literally rests upon Christian sacred space.

Divine Intervention at the Neighbourhood Mosque

Our exploration of Selçuk’s religious landscape led us to the İsa Bey Mosque, a remarkable example of 14th-century Anatolian architecture. Built between 1374-75 by Syrian architect Ali ibn el-Dimişki, this mosque demonstrates the transitional period between Seljuk and Ottoman architectural styles.

The mosque’s segregated prayer areas for women represent traditional Islamic practice, though such arrangements can appear restrictive to visitors from different cultural backgrounds. These architectural divisions reflect religious interpretations that prioritize modesty and separate worship spaces, practices that have shaped Islamic religious architecture for centuries.

During our visit, we discovered that the mosque offers free Quran copies to interested visitors – a practice that connects contemporary Islamic outreach with the site’s long history as a religious centre. While there, we met a local man who was especially eager to talk to us about Islam. He explained that he hadn’t actually planned to visit the mosque at that time; he was on his way to complete some errands, but on a whim decided to stop by and pick up a Quran for a friend. Instead, he ran into us and was convinced that our meeting was no coincidence, telling us he believed it was divine intervention.

Our conversation quickly turned philosophical. He earnestly shared his belief that the Quran contains the answers to every question in life, presenting it as the ultimate guide to truth. At one point, he shared a rather striking perspective: he said that people who believe in God are the highest tier of lifeforms, followed by animals, with people who don’t believe, especially those who “act like they are their own god”, ranking below animals. I couldn’t help but laugh internally, realizing that by his definition I must be beneath the neighborhood cats lounging in the sun! He meant no offense, his words were offered with sincerity and a desire to share his worldview. Still, I got the impression he didn’t realize we weren’t religious ourselves, or how his ranking might sound to an outsider.

Echoes of the Population Exchange

Our journey to Şirince village, perched on a hillside 8 kilometres from Selçuk, revealed one of Turkey’s most poignant historical legacies. This mountaintop settlement, originally called Çirkince (meaning “ugly” in Turkish), was supposedly named by its Greek founders to deter other settlers from discovering their mountain paradise.

The village prospered under its Greek Orthodox Christian population, who spoke primarily Turkish despite their religious identity. By 1908-09, over 1,000 houses sheltered Greek families who cultivated vines, tobacco, figs, and olives while maintaining their distinct cultural traditions.

The 1923 Population Exchange between Greece and Turkey devastated Şirince’s established community. This compulsory transfer, formalized in the Convention Concerning the Exchange of Greek and Turkish Populations, displaced approximately 1.6 million people based solely on religious affiliation. Greek Orthodox Christians from Turkish territories moved to Greece, while Muslims from Greece relocated to Turkey. The abandoned houses we encountered represent this traumatic displacement.

The Grandeur and Complexity of Ancient Ephesus

The archaeological site of Ephesus, directly connected to modern Selçuk, represents one of the Mediterranean’s most significant Roman cities. As we walked among its ruins during the intensifying heat wave, the scale and sophistication of this ancient metropolis became immediately apparent. A local restaurant owner’s joke about Efes beer – suggesting we walk a few kilometres toward ancient Ephesus since “Efes” is simply the Turkish name for the ancient city – highlighted how thoroughly this archaeological site integrates with the culture. The beer’s naming represents a modern commercial connection to ancient prestige.

The Temple of Artemis ruins, reduced now to a single reconstructed column, still commanded respect as the remains of one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. Though little survives of this massive structure, which once measured 137 metres long and featured 127 columns each standing 18 metres high, the site’s significance resonates across millennia.

Ephesus declined through a combination of geographical and political factors. The Küçük Menderes River gradually silted up the harbour, cutting the city’s vital connection to maritime trade routes. Natural disasters, including a devastating earthquake in 614 CE, damaged infrastructure repeatedly. The rise of Christianity displaced traditional pagan worship, while Gothic invasions in 262 CE destroyed much of the city, including the Temple of Artemis.

I was captivated by how Ephesus’s grandeur was engineered. The ancients combined brute force and technical innovation. Iron pins and lead clamps held massive marble slabs together, damping seismic shocks and locking the city’s great structures in place (though unlikely they knew how well that method would stand up to an actual earthquake).

Workers used wooden cranes, pulleys, and earth ramps to raise monolithic columns, guiding tonnes of stone into precise positions.

We realized that knowing Latin wouldn’t have helped us decipher most Ephesian inscriptions. The city’s later inscriptions switched entirely to Greek, the region’s lingua franca after Alexander the Great’s conquest. An odd feeling – usually we lament not knowing Latin, but this time, it wouldn’t have helped at all. Amid these weighty ruins, we saw samples of the ichthys fish symbol (colloquially known as the Jesus fish symbol), scratched into ancient stones, symbolizing early Christianity. In Greek, it’s written as ΙΧΘΥΣ, and is sometimes seen abbreviated using a symbol resembling a pizza cut into eight slices.

The Temple That Bridged Empires

Among Ephesus’s countless architectural treasures, the Temple of Hadrian stands as a masterpiece of cultural synthesis. This elegantly proportioned structure, built around 117 CE, demonstrates how Roman architects embraced and transformed Eastern design traditions through its distinctive Syrian arch.

The temple’s facade tells multiple stories through stone. Tyche, goddess of city fortune, crowns the keystone wearing walls as her crown, symbolizing her protection over Ephesian prosperity. Above the inner doorway, a relief of Medusa emerges from acanthus leaves, not the terrifying monster of myth, but a protective figure surrounded by the Mediterranean vegetation that inspired Corinthian column designs.

Roman Domestic Life Preserved in Paint

The Terrace Houses of Ephesus shattered our expectations of ancient Roman domestic architecture. These luxury residences, inhabited by wealthy families from the 1st to 7th centuries CE, revealed that Roman homes were far more colourful and sophisticated than typical stone ruins suggest.

The houses featured extensive frescoed walls with floral motifs, geometric patterns, and figurative scenes painted directly onto plaster surfaces. Archaeologists have carefully restored many of these paintings, revealing the artistic sophistication of domestic Roman decoration. The mosaic floors display intricate geometric and figural designs, demonstrating the high level of craftsmanship available to Ephesian elite. These restorations represent authentic ancient artwork, not modern interpretations.

The houses incorporated sophisticated engineering, including hypocaust heating systems that circulated warm air beneath floors and within walls, and plumbing that provided both hot and cold running water. These amenities matched those available in Roman public baths, demonstrating the luxury standards of Ephesian wealthy families.

The Library That Conquered Death

The Library of Celsus stands as Ephesus’s most iconic structure, and deservedly so. This magnificent building, constructed between 110-135 CE, served the dual purpose of housing scrolls and honouring the dead. Tiberius Julius Aquila commissioned the library as a memorial to his father, Tiberius Julius Celsus Polemaeanus, who had served as Roman consul and proconsul of Asia. The building functioned as both a repository of knowledge, holding approximately 12,000 scrolls, and as Celsus’s mausoleum – his marble sarcophagus rests in a crypt beneath the building.

Fire destroyed the library’s interior around 262 CE, though the façade survived until earthquakes brought it down in the 10th or 11th century. Austrian archaeologists reconstructed the façade between 1970 and 1978, creating the impressive sight that draws crowds today for both daytime visits and evening light shows.

As we left, we saw people lined up for hundreds of meters lining up to see the evening light show – many of them coming in from cruise ships.

See more images from Selçuk and Ancient Ephesus

A Contrast in Cities

The contrast between Vienna and Bratislava becomes apparent immediately upon arrival. While both cities share a Habsburg heritage, Bratislava’s economic situation differs markedly from its Austrian neighbour.

This disparity likely stems from Austria flourishing being a primary driver of European prosperity, while Slovakia being a part of another empires/kingdoms for centuries, and then spending four decades behind the Iron Curtain under Communist rule.

Christmas Spirit

Despite December temperatures hovering around freezing and biting winds sweeping through the streets, Bratislava’s Christmas markets created a warm atmosphere. Unlike Vienna’s markets, which balance merchandise and food, Bratislava’s focus heavily on traditional Slovak cuisine and glühwein.

We sampled a traditional potato pancake served with sour cream and various toppings. It tasted pretty much like a hashbrown with toppings. I also got to try glühwein mixed with absinthe, something I hadn’t had in years and isn’t common to find in North America.

Čumil the Sewer Worker

Among Bratislava’s most photographed attractions is Čumil, the “Man at Work” sculpture. Created by Viktor Hulík in 1997, this bronze figure peers out from a manhole cover. The sculpture brings a bit of character to the old town. While photographing Čumil, we noticed people observing tourists – a reminder to stay vigilant in crowded tourist areas.

The Opera House and National Identity

Our walking tour took us past the Slovak National Theatre. The Neo-Renaissance opera house, completed in 1886, was built during the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The facade features busts of famous playwrights and composers, none of whom are ethnically Slovak. This reflects the historical reality that Slovak national identity was still forming during the theatre’s construction. The first Slovak-language play was not performed at the opera house until the early 20th century.

Slovakia’s path to nationhood was complex, involving centuries under Hungarian rule, followed by inclusion in Czechoslovakia after World War I. The eventual peaceful dissolution of Czechoslovakia in 1993, known as the Velvet Divorce, marked Slovakia’s emergence as an independent nation. The Czech and Slovak languages illustrate this shared heritage, and are still mutually intelligible.

The UFO Bridge and the Memorial to the Jewish Quarter

A poignant stop on our tour was the site of a former synagogue. The Jewish Quarter was demolished during the construction of the UFO Bridge, officially known as the Bridge of the Slovak National Uprising, in the 1970s under Soviet rule. By that time, the area had been neglected for decades, likely due to the decimation of Bratislava’s Jewish population during the Holocaust. In its place, there’s now a memorial for where the old synagogue used to be.

The UFO Bridge itself has now become one of Bratislava’s most recognizable landmarks. Spanning the Danube without any supporting columns in the water, the bridge relies on suspension cables for structural integrity. Its unique design, with a circular restaurant perched atop, resembles a flying saucer, giving it the UFO moniker.

Christmas and Easter Traditions

Our guide shared some interesting Slovak holiday traditions. At Christmas, families often purchase live carp, allowing children to play with the fish in the bathtub for a day or two before it is prepared for dinner. Instead of Santa Claus, Slovakia’s version, Ježiško (Baby Jesus), visits children and brings them gifts. Easter brings another curious custom where boys pour water on girls they admire or value (romantic interests and female family members), a tradition thought to bring health and beauty. In return, the girls offer decorated eggs, booze or even money. The guide was completely aware how strange these traditions would sound to foreigners, and if you ask me, the Easter one seems a little bit one-sided.

Ascending to Bratislava Castle

The tour concluded with a climb to Bratislava Castle. Compared to grander castles in the region, Bratislava Castle reflects the city’s more modest resources.

Originally a military fortification, it achieved its greatest splendour under Maria Theresa’s reign in the 18th century when it was converted into a Habsburg residence. After a devastating fire in 1811, the castle fell into disrepair. During the communist era, reconstruction efforts were modest compared to its former glory, resulting in the simpler structure we see today.

From the top of the castle hill, visitors can see wind turbines in the distance. Interestingly, these turbines are located in Austria, as Slovakia does not yet have significant investments in wind energy.

See more of Bratislava here

Upon arrival, the festive atmosphere mirrored that of Vienna, with bustling Christmas markets. While the merchandise largely resembled what was available in Vienna, the culinary offerings stood out. Vendors were actively smoking salmon, roasting whole pigs, and serving gluhwein from massive cauldrons, filling the air with rich and hearty aromas.

One of the more unique items available were the scented ornaments crafted from dried oranges, limes, and pomegranates. As we walked by the stalls, the fruity scents subtly filled the cold winter air.

Despite the constant drizzle that arrived later in the day, we glimpsed Buda Castle rising above the riverbank of the Danube. This palace, dating from the 13th century, has served as the historical seat of Hungarian kings.

While the day trip was marked by weather challenges and train delays, the festive spirit of Budapest, rich food offerings, and the historical sights made the journey memorable.

See more of Budapest here

Unlike my last visit to Neuschwanstein, this time I got to visit other sights along the way, like the Linderhof Castle, and Oberammergau. And this time, I got to see the inside of Neuschwanstein, something that I don’t recall ever doing.

Schloss Linderhof was one of the three palaces built by King Ludwig II, and the only one he saw completed. Unlike his father who focused on governing, King Ludwig II preferred his artistic and architectural projects instead. The palace and its extensive grounds were designed to create an idyllic setting, complete with enchanting gardens, water features, and meticulously landscaped terraces. Ludwig drew inspiration from mythology and Wagnerian opera, incorporating themes of fantasy and escapism throughout the palace and its surrounding landscapes.

Along the way to Neuschwanstein, we stopped in a small town of Oberammergau, known for its artistic works. The reason that buildings have murals showing the crucifixion of Jesus Christ because the town is known for the Oberammergau Passion Play.

Käthe Wohlfahrt, a well-known German company selling Christmas themed items, also has a store here to join in the city’s woodcarving traditions.

Schloss Hohenschwangau was built by King Ludgwig II’s father and served as their family’s summer residence. It’s located near the picturesque location near lake Alpsee.

This is where every postcard picture of Neuschwanstein is taken: on the Marienbrücke, a bridge lookout. We walked around the area while waiting for our timed tour entry.

Luckily, the weather was nice, so we had an unobstructed view of the surrounding area.

Schloss Neuschwanstein embodies the visionary dreams of King Ludwig II, who aimed to create a fairytale castle. However, the castle remained unfinished upon the king’s untimely death in 1886. Today, Neuschwanstein stands as a symbol of Ludwig’s artistic and romantic ideals.

Unfortunately, it was forbidden to take pictures of the inside of the castle. I could only post existing content from the public domain. Still, one can still appreciate the interior of Schloss Neuschwanstein. Each room features intricate woodwork, ornate decorations, and vibrant murals referencing chivalry, mythology, and Wagnerian opera. The artistic craftsmanship and attention to detail within the castle’s interior serve as a stunning testament to Ludwig’s unwavering pursuit of beauty and grandeur.

See more photos of Schloss Neuschwanstein here

On the day we had to check out of our accommodations was the day that we felt the worst from the food poisoning we got the day before, so we couldn’t just stay in the room to sleep it all off. Instead, we had to continue on our itinerary as before and went on a day trip to Sintra. The entire day at Sintra was a struggle, trying to walk around with a light fever.

The drive to Sintra look way longer than expected because of some road closures that required us to take the long way around to get to the parking lot. To make matters worse, Google Maps was showing all the wrong directions – roads that appeared on the map were actually narrow unpaved access roads that were not publically accessible. We ended up driving all the way around the mountain, through narrow small town roads with steep corners up and down hills until we lucked out and reached the parking lot. It felt a lot like navigating in Antibes. From the parking lot, we took a tuk-tuk to the palace since we were going to be late for our visit reservation. On our way out, we even saw a group of tourists in a van that got stuck trying to make a multi-point turn because they ended up facing the wrong way on a one-way street.

Sintra is a picturesque town located in the foothills of the Sintra Mountains in Portugal, just a short distance from Lisbon. The main attraction for us there was the stunning Pena Palace, which boasts a colourful exterior, Gothic turrets, and an ornate interior. The exterior of the palace is painted in bright, vibrant colours, with shades of red, yellow, and blue standing out against the green backdrop of the surrounding forest.

The palace was built in the 19th century by King Ferdinand II, who was inspired by the Romanticism movement and wanted to create a whimsical and exotic castle that reflected his tastes. The result is a stunning fusion of architectural styles that incorporates Gothic, Moorish, and Renaissance elements, among others.

Inside the palace, we explored a series of ornate rooms, including a courtyard, a banquet hall, a music room, and a throne room. The interior is decorated with intricate carvings, frescoes, and tapestries, and is a testament to the wealth of the Portuguese royal family.

Interior decorations feature Portuguese tiles, also known as azulejos, a distinctive form of decorative tilework that originated in Portugal in the 13th century. Azulejos are typically made of glazed ceramic and are used to adorn the walls and floors of homes, public buildings, and places of worship. The designs are known for their intricate patterns, vibrant colors, and the use of repeating motifs such as flowers, birds, and geometric shapes.

Sintra is unlike the other castles I’ve visited before. The architecture style is completely different from the typical European castles like Neuschwanstein, Hohenzollern, or Carcassonne. This one is a lot more colourful and dynamic – there’s a combination of ornate carvings, vegetation, and overall structural beauty.

See more photos of Sintra here

The fortified city was almost demolished in the 19th century but after much protest by the locals, it was restored and now it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

We happened to visit Carcassonne at the same time as the Carcassonne Game Festival – a Carcassonne board game themed festival. I had played the board game before, but I had no idea that it was connected to the actual medival city itself. People got to play the board game Carcassone inside the walled city of Carcassonne. How cool! There were other events like axe-throwing, archery, and bowling (using the little meeples as the pins)! If I was a kid, I would have definitely enjoyed it a lot.

There are paths to walk along the defensive walls of the city. Luckily by today the weather had cooled down compared to the previous days and it was actually comfortable walking outside.

As usual, the castle is built on top of a hill – it’s the best defensible position. But because of that, visitors have access to views down into the town.

The castle itself isn’t just a fortification, there’s also a city inside of it too. Mostly it’s souvenir stores and restaurants. From a local store owner, I learned that the animals in French don’t sound the same as in English – it makes a “quah quah” noise – the guy made what I thought to be a super strange noise at first as I walked by his store presumably to attract customers, and after giving him a super confused look, he explained what it was.

The storeowner was actually selling earthenware for cooking cassoulet, a local dish. The dish is said to have originated in the town of Castelnaudary, and is particularly popular in the neighbouring towns of Toulouse and Carcassonne. We got to try it at a place called Méli et Zéli. It’s a slow cooked stew with beans, sausages, and goose/duck confit. It’s super rich and heavy. The duck flavour is very apparent. I want to learn how to make this.

Next, we headed to the Châteaux de Lastours. They are the ruins of four castles sitting on top of a hill. We reached the base of the mountain, but we weren’t prepared to hike the whole thing, so instead we looked for a car road up to some sort of view point.

The road I could see go to the top was a single lane road and it wasn’t apparent whether or not it was a one-way, but after seeing another car go up, I decided to follow. I just hoped that there weren’t any cars coming the other way because it was either drive off a cliff or into the trees.

We found a wider part of the road and pulled over to get a good look. If we had more time, we would have hiked up there – it looked fun. I ended up going back town the same way, again hoping I didn’t encounter another car. Eventually I did, but luckily the speeds were slow, the road was bit wider at that point, and I was able to swerve enough just in time.

Check here to see more photos of Carcassonne

Heidelberg

Heidelberg probably has the most picturesque old town in the entire Germany. Out of all the views I’ve seen in Germany, this is one of the best.

The view is from the ruins of a castle that was destroyed during the Thirty Years War (17th century). I believe the old town is mostly in the Baroque style.

For breakfast, we had a very traditional German pastry, known as a Berliner. It’s similar to a doughnut, but without the hole, and it has a jam filling on the inside and powdered sugar on top. They’re super delicious and not insanely sweet like a lot of American doughnuts.

For lunch, we had more traditional German street foods. The top of the bottom image is currywurst, cut up sausage with curry ketchup on top. The flavour is a very savoury sausage with a slight sweet and spicy zing of curry. The bottom of the image is a bratwurst in a breadroll with mustard. Everything about this is better than the American hot dog. Better sausage to bun ratio, better bread, better sausage, and better mustard. And of course, fries are seasoned with mayonnaise instead of ketchup.

After lunch, we drove up the hill across the river from the old town and visited an old ampitheatre. Why is this amptitheatre interesting, you might ask? It’s actually a relic of the Nazi period for holding propaganda performances.

The main allure of Heidelberg itself is its picturesque views both in the old town and up on Heidelberg castle. Visitors can easily enjoy this by strolling through the old town and making their way up to the castle (there is also a tram), which are main attractions of the city.

Zweibrücken

From Heidelberg, we drove to Zweibrücken. It was a slight detour from Luxembourg, where we were actually trying to go, but we had read about a cool observatory decorated like R2D2, so we thought we’d check it out! It would have been cool to look through the telescope – after all the sky was completely clear of any clouds.

Driving to the place was super scenic! Nice rolling countryside hills with towering wind turbines.

From there we continued our drive to Luxembourg.

Luxembourg

We crossed the border into Luxembourg at dusk and stopped by the town of Schengen. This is the place where the Schengen Agreement was signed – the agreement that removed the hard borders between its European member states.

Normally, it’s possible to walk across to the island to see the small exhibit that discusses the Schengen Agreement, but we were super surprised to see the river at such a high tide (it did rain a lot the past couple of days). On the right of the picture, there’s a little shrub, street signs and flagpoles poking out of the water.

By the time we reach Luxembourg City, it was nighttime. To our surprise, the city looked deserted even though it was only 19:00. People walking on the street appeared drunk. There was even a guy taking a leak in the street without even trying to do it in an alley!

We walked around a bit to check out the town, but otherwise, there wasn’t much to do at that hour on a weekday.

We didn’t stay too long in Luxembourg, and we continued our drive to Bastogne, where we’d stay the night.

Photos:

• Heidelberg
• Zweibrücken
• Luxembourg

Vaduz

Vaduz is the capital of Liechtenstein, a country that some people have probably never heard of before, and people who have heard of it probably don’t know where it is on the map. In fact, it’s a tiny country that’s sandwiched between Switzerland and Austria. Miraculously, this country, originally a part of the Holy Roman Empire, never got conquered. It survived empires rising and falling around it, namely Holy Roman Empire, Napoleon’s French Empire, Austria-Hungary, the German Empire, and Nazi Germany, just to name a few. Because it survived the political upheaval around it, it is still ruled by a prince (i.e. a principality) like it always was.

The above image shows the residence of the prince. It feels like some strange anachronism – a prince living in a castle on top of a hill ruling over his subjects, but in a modern time.

Even though it’s the capital of Liechtenstein, it only has ~5000 inhabitants – by no means large at all. Its vibe is quite different from other European cities – it doesn’t have a fancy old town or anything, but there are several museums of art and history, as well as the Princely Wine Cellars, which is a vineyard where guests can do wine tastings.

I jokingly asked the fellow at the tourist info centre if he’d ever met the Prince of Liechtenstein, and he actually said yes! He said that everyone who turns 18 gets invited to an event called the Young Citizens Celebration (Jungbürgerfeier) to meet the prince.

Hohenzollern Castle

From Vaduz, we drove into Germany, to where the House of Hohenzollern began, Hohenzollern Castle. These are the same Hohenzollerns, whose family members once ruled Prussia and the German Empire, among other places. Even the last Kaiser of the German Empire, Kaiser Wilhelm II, is a Hohenzollern. Today, the castle is still privately owned by the family,

The only way to see the interior of the castle is to pay for the guided tour, and on that guided tour there are no photos allowed. The coolest part of the guided tour is the room showing the entire known family tree of the Hohenzollerns. It even goes into detail as to which branch of the family is part of the Catholic Swabian branch, or the Protestant Franconian branch.

Today was the first day of the trip that actually snowed! The last several days were a bit windy and cool, but still above zero centigrade, but suddenly today, the weather dipped and it started snowing!

It’s kind of nice driving while it’s snowing as long as it’s not a total blizzard.

Stuttgart

In 2011, I spent eight months in Stuttgart for an internship while I was in university, and since then I went back again in 2013 and now again in 2020. I remember in 2013, it still felt pretty nostalgic, but now nine years later, I found that I’ve forgotten a lot of places and barely knew my way around. The feeling was totally different. It felt a lot more distant – like a place I used to know.

Before we left, we planned to eat at Sophie’s Brauhaus, the brewery that my friends and I used to go a lot to. I knew what I wanted to order before we even went – spaetzle with lentils and sausage. Spaetzle is a German pasta with eggs (as a opposed to other types of pasta which may not have as much egg in it). It’s easily one of the most Swabian dishes there is (Swabia is a region in Germany with its own culture and language). And of course we ordered beers, because after all we were at a brewery. I even ordered a bananenweizen – a wheat beer mixed with banana juice (yes, it’s a thing).

When I ate the dish, it didn’t connect with my nostalgia at all, I just remembered having nostalgia for it. Same with the beer I had. This was the place I had my first real German beer, and now there was zero connection between what I tasted now and the nostalgia. I mean the food and the beer was still delicious, but in my head, I definitely was looking for that emotional connection.

Photos

• Vaduz
• Hohenzollern Castle
• Stuttgart