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

Often referred to as “Bird Island,” Genovesa supports immense colonies of seabirds, making it one of the most densely populated bird habitats in the Galápagos.

An Island Full of Birds

Genovesa is a sanctuary for seabirds, and nowhere is that more obvious than along the Prince Philip’s Steps trail. From the moment we landed, it felt like we were walking through a live aviary. Every few feet revealed different birds. First, we saw the Nazca boobies. These large, white seabirds with black-tipped wings and yellow eyes are one of the iconic “Big 15” species of the Galápagos. We saw both attentive parents and their fuzzy, down-covered chicks. Some of the chicks were already testing out their wings, flapping them clumsily as they stood in place.

The Nazca boobies didn’t seem to care about our presence. Some sat in the middle of the trail, forcing us to detour. They didn’t beg for food or try to flee. It was clear we were in their space. They looked at us with curiosity, as if evaluating our behaviour. One was even attracted to the bright coloured shoes of someone in our group. We joked at the bird was imprinting on them.

We also encountered several red-footed boobies up close (another Big 15 of the Galápagos ). Unlike the Nazca or blue-footed boobies, red-footed boobies are smaller and more agile in flight, using their dexterity to catch flying fish. They are also the only booby species in the Galápagos that nest in trees, thanks to their strong, grasping feet. Their nesting behaviour allows them to avoid the crowded ground-level colonies favoured by other species.

We also observed many great frigatebirds nesting. We had the fortunate of seeing the males with their red throat sacs inflated like balloons. However, we didn’t see the closely related magnificent frigatebird, which looks nearly identical but differs subtly in iridescent sheen and eye ring.

Further along the trail, we also spotted one of the iconic Darwin’s finches. This one was a brown finch, and though we knew it belonged to one of the local species, it was remarkably difficult to tell whether it was the small, medium, or large ground finch. These species differ primarily by the size and shape of their beaks, which have adapted to different types of seeds. In the field, even seasoned naturalists can find it tricky to differentiate them without observing feeding behaviour or using binoculars to compare subtle proportions. Genovesa is home to several of these species.

Spotting Rarities with a Naturalist’s Eye

We were lucky to be hiking with someone in our group who had spent decades as a professional naturalist. Her eye for detail helped us spot species we would have otherwise missed, including Galápagos doves nestled in a rocky crevice.

Our naturalist companion was able to spot the elusive short-eared owl. The short-eared owl is the only owl on Genovesa and is a daytime hunter, adapted to prey on storm petrels that nest in the island’s lava crevices. Seeing one is considered a highlight by bird enthusiasts.

She spotted this owl even when swarms of birds circled the crater. From a distance it looked like hundreds, maybe more.

I asked the guide how often people got pooped on by birds, and he said “all the time”.

How Did the Birds Get Here?

As we observed the vast diversity of birdlife on Genovesa, a natural question arose: how did all these birds get here in the first place? Genovesa, like all the Galápagos Islands, is of volcanic origin and has never been connected to any continent. That means every species had to arrive by sea or air. In the case of birds, it’s a mix of seabirds and land birds that flew in from the mainland over generations.

Seabirds like the Nazca booby, red-footed booby, and great frigatebird are strong fliers capable of covering vast distances over open ocean. They likely reached the archipelago by chance during migration or storms, eventually settling and breeding. Unlike land birds, which evolved in relative isolation after their ancestors arrived, many seabirds still travel between islands or even back to mainland South America during their lifetimes.

Land birds, such as the Galápagos dove and finches, probably arrived in earlier periods via rafting or wind dispersal and then adapted to island life. Their more limited range makes their evolution within the islands more distinct and well-documented.

Circumnavigating the Crater

After the hike, we boarded zodiacs for a ride around the inner edge of the caldera to get a better sense of its geologic origins. The steep, eroded walls of the crater revealed layers of volcanic tuff – compressed ash from past eruptions. In places, erosion had carved angular overhangs and caves. The crater rim is breached on one side, allowing the ocean to flood in and creating a calm anchorage for small vessels like ours.

Along the cliff face and the trees above, we continued to see more birds nesting. There were even some marine iguanas resting on rocks.

Courting Frigates and a Nap in the Sand

After lunch, we embarked on another short nature. Right as we began, we passed a sea lions sprawled out comfortably on the sand, fast asleep. They lay there without a care in the world, entirely unfazed by our presence. Many Galápagos animals are not concerned with human visitors, as long as we respect their space.

As we continued, we came across a group of nesting frigatebirds in full courtship display, with their bright red throat sacs fully inflated. They flapped their wings, made rattling calls, and shook their inflated sacs in dramatic fashion – all in an effort to catch the eye of a passing female. The sounds and motions were loud and theatrical.

Our guide mentioned research into their mating behaviours, including experiments where scientists altered the appearance of the sacs by painting them blue. Surprisingly, the colour change didn’t seem to affect female interest. In another case, a researcher punctured the sac to study healing – and it reportedly repaired itself within a few days. These stories underscored how much remains unknown about even the most visible species.

A Cloudy Snorkel and Playful Sea Lions

We ended the day with a snorkel along the rocky beach. Unfortunately, the water was too cloudy to see much underwater life. The coarse volcanic rocks made walking on the beach difficult; a few of us got small stones lodged in our flippers, which rubbed uncomfortably against our skin.

But the snorkelling wasn’t the real highlight. Back on shore, a group of sea lions came ashore and began to play. They chased one another, nipped each other’s flippers, rolled onto their backs, and flopped in and out of the surf in an endless loop of games. Their energy and antics entertained us for nearly twenty minutes.

One thing we noticed throughout the trip was the near absence of native terrestrial mammals or amphibians on the islands. Unlike birds or reptiles, which can fly or survive extended periods at sea, most land animals couldn’t make the crossing from the South American mainland. The Galápagos are over 900 kilometres from the coast, and animals unable to float, fly, or raft on vegetation simply never had the chance to colonize these remote islands.

See here to view the full photo album from our day on Genovesa Island.

At the time we went, Iceland was one of the few countries in the world that allowed vaccinated foreign visitors. All that was needed was proof of vaccination – not even a pre-entry COVID test. The fact that most people were vaccinated meant that most people were not wearing masks in the city, but this was before even the Delta variant – it seems like so long ago now.

I had been itching to go travel somewhere since the pandemic began, and this was a very welcome nudge towards normalcy. Flying with Icelandair was the same as before: the seat and leg room is pretty comfortable, but there’s no food included with the airfare. The only difference is the extra bureacracy related to COVID, which increased how long it took each person to get through immigration, resulting in long lines after the plane. It didn’t help that we arrived so early in the morning that the food places weren’t even open yet and we had to wait in line while hungry. Eventually, we picked up the rental car and drove into Reykjavik for breakfast. We took the day easy by just exploring Reykjavik on foot, and took a nap in the afternoon when the jet lag caught up to us.

That night, we had probably the most memorable meal we’ve ever had at Tapas Barinn. The great thing about tapas is that as tourists, we get to try a little bit of everything as opposed to ordering entrées.

I even got to try some Flóki single malt whiskey. The smokiness from the whiskey actually comes from the barley smoked using sheep dung, a traditional cooking method. I also got to try some more brennivin like my last trip to Iceland – it’s essentially a grain alcohol (40%) and flavoured with caraway seeds, which gives it a sweeter flavour than something like vodka.

I had visited Iceland a couple years ago, but it was in the winter where there was only 4 hours of light per day, and even then the sky looked like dusk.

This time, travelling there in the summer, I didn’t see the night sky the entire time I was there. I could more clearly see and appreciate the nature around me, like the endless fields of moss growing on the rocks, and sheep freely roaming the fields.

It is thought that the Icelandic sheep were introduced to Iceland by the Viking settlers. Farmers allow them to freely roam around in the summer months, and as winter comes, they round them all back up again.

Like my previous trip to Iceland, we travelled along the Ring Road to see the waterfalls, and the volcanic beaches.

This is what the view at Seljalandsfoss looks like in the summer versus the view I saw in the winter. I had no idea Iceland could be so green. In the summer, people can even walk behind the waterfall, between the rock and the falls itself, but in the winter, the trail is closed because of ice.

Skógafoss looks about the same between summer and winter, except the vegetation is greener in summer.

A kitty even came out to hang out with us! As we were walking, the cat just walked up to us and stopped, expecting pets as a payment to pass through. After that, off it went.

Unlike travelling to Iceland in the winter, there were no restrictions (4WD) to drive up to Dyrhólaey in the summer. As we drove up, I could see why. The road was a set of steep switchbacks on gravel roads that were only a little more than two cars width – and there were no guardrails.

From the top, one can see the endless mountains, or watch the waves crash against the beaches of volanic sand.

The next day, we took a Superjeep tour to see ice caves on an active volcano known as Katla. The reason why it’s called Superjeep is because it can deflate its tires (for icy roads), and inflate them back up again depending on the terrain, but otherwise it looks like your typical Ford Excursion but with big tires.

The ice caves were located a ways in from the glacier. In summer, a lot of the ice had melted, revealing the volanic sand and rock underneath.

Only just now as I was writing this, did I realize we were travelling on a literal volcano, but I suppose it’s safe.

As we headed up the volcano, the lush, green vegetation quickly disappeared, revealing a rocky landscape with a mix of ice and black volcanic rock. Grey clouds covered the sky and it began to rain.

Eventually, the tour guide parked the truck, and we began our volcano hike. He brought his ice pick with him and used it several times to cut steps in the ice.

Despite the summer season, the temperature still felt like a mild winter. But it still meant the ice caves would not be as fully developed as in the winter season, and this could clearly be seen when comparing the ice caves from this trip versus the previous one. In fact, the winter ice cave was really more of a tunnel, while the picture of the summer ice cave was taken from the end of the cave with the camera pointing out.

The ice on top of the volcanic rock looked so alien that several movies used this place as a location for another planet. Rogue One was filmed in the area for the opening scene where young Jyn Erso hides from the stormtroopers. The movie doesn’t show the whole cave, but the similiarity is clear. If the movie had shown the whole cave, one would see why people call it the “Yoda Cave”.

It was nice staying in the cave for a bit as a brief respite from the rain. We made the mistake of wearing jeans for a multi-hour hike in the rain, and our wet clothes just made us even colder. We also got the chance to chat a bit with others on the tour. We met an orthodonist who practised in Greece by the name of Thanos (I wonder if he was aware of the MCU), and another who claimed to be a “voodoo priestess”, whatever that means.

The next morning, the plan was whale and puffin watching. It turned out to be an incredibly bad idea because I apparently get seasick, and didn’t get to see a lot. Even those who did see whales could really only see a small fin barely capturable on camera. Only a small percentage of people get to see the whale flying out of the water and crashing back down. Good thing the puffin watching was on a separate tour so I got to recover from the seasickness, but we decided not to go and instead gave the tickets away to another group that we overheard looking for tickets to the same tour.

Instead, we went to go get some Icelandic hotdogs for lunch. The key things that set it apart are the condiments, and the sausage. In addition to ketchup, and sweet mustard, they also add “remoulade”, similar to mayo with added herbs. The sausage uses lamb, as opposed to chicken/pork/beef.

Next, we headed to the Reykjanes Peninsula and the Blue Lagoon. We reached the tip of the peninsula and stood on the cliff watching the waves crash against the shore. If there was such a thing as the end of the earth, this was it. Despite strong gusts of wind, thousands of birds nested on the side of the cliff. From far away they look like white specks, but one can see them clearly with a good set of binoculars.

Next, we went for a relaxing soak at the Blue Lagoon, a man-made spa fed by water used by a nearby geothermal plant.

The water forms a milky blue colour from the high silica mud, and is supposedly good for the skin. They even sell super overpriced skincare products at the gift shop.

The area is beautiful with all the steam slowly rising from the hot springs with the light cool breeze. It would have felt like a whipping biting wind if not for the hot spring. You just submerge yourself until you feel not too hot and not too cold, and then relax with their cleansing silica face masks and a drink.

After leaving Blue Lagoon, we’d learned there was an active eruption happening at the nearby Fagradalsfjall volcano, and was happening slow enough such that it was OK to go see it.

A short walk from the parking lot led us to the lava flow. The trail continued upstream of the lava flow to the mouth of the volcano.

There were warnings for people to not walk too close to the lava flow because of risks of toxic fumes, but many did it anyway (as did we). Many curious hikers threw rocks on it just to find out that the lava flow had already hardened, even though there were still visible fumes coming out.

The hike turned out to be really long, and we weren’t really prepared to do a multi-hour hike at 20:00 in the cold, wind, and rain. As we reluctantly turned around, we saw people pointing the other and when we looked, we managed to catch a glimpse of the volcano spewing lava from afar. It makes sense now why people call it the “land of ice and fire”

It was surprising to see how watery the lava looked. I expected molten rock to be more viscous. The lava just spewed out in a splash. I felt super lucky to have seen such a sight.

As we walked back, I noticed these hexagonal patterns in the ground. Maybe this is how basalt columns form? From what I’ve read, under certain conditions, the cooling magma can cool in a way that forms these hexagonal shapes.

By the time we reached the parking lot, we were wet and cold (seemed to be a recurring theme by this point). Luckily there was a food truck at the parking lot selling hot soup.

The next morning before heading out to the Golden Circle, we started the day off with a nice brunch at Sandholt.

The unexpected star of the breakfast was the bread. As an amateur baker myself, this is the bread I aspire to make – it’s soft, light and airy with a crisp crust.

Next step along the Golden Circle was Geysir. The geothermal heat creates pressure underground causing the water to explode upward every few minutes. The entire area is filled with geothermal pools, some of which are so hot they’re bubbling from the heat and pressure.

It’s cool just to just stand in anticipation of the eruption. From looking at it, there’s no indication that it’s going to explode at all, and then it just does. At one point, the wind carried the water toward us and got us all wet, but luckily by the time the water hits the ground, it’s cooled down.

From the Geysir, we drove to Gullfoss. Unlike other waterfalls, this one has a unique feature where the water does a zig zag before hitting the bottom.

There were attempts in the past to build a hydroelectric plant here, but those efforts have not succeeded, and since then, the waterfall is now under government protection.

The last destination of the Golden Circle was Kerið crater. It’s believed that the crater formed through volcanic activity. Once the magma chamber emptied, it collapsed, forming the crater. The accumulation of water is not formed by rainfall, but is actually ground water.

On our last day before we left, we got the chance to try more Icelandic dishes. This time we had some lamb soup, dried fish, fermented shark, and some Einstök white ale, a local craft brew.

It’s not often that I would rave about soup, but I liked it so much I’ve been trying to recreate the flavour at home. It’s savoury soup with vegetables, lamb, and herbs/spices. I can’t say I was a huge fan of the dried fish and fermented shark though. The dried fish is served with butter and its flavour reminds me of super tough beef jerky with a light fish flavour, while the fermented shark has a texture of a ham with a soury tang. Perhaps it’s an acquired taste. The beer was great though.

That’s pretty much it for Iceland. We got the chance to try all sorts of local delicacies, and see a piece of nature we wouldn’t normally see in our part of the world. At the airport duty free, I even got to pick up some Brennivin, and a bottle of the Flóki sheep dung whiskey!

See more pictures of my trip to Iceland here

The image above is the Lotus Temple – the Bahá’í House of Worship. Within the lotus flower, structure has almost no rooms – it’s mainly a giant atrium filled with pews. It’s unique construction has won it many architectural awards and is one of the most visited buildings in the world.

The India Gate is like the Indian version of the Arc de Triomphe. It’s a memorial to the 70000 soldiers of the british Indian Army who died various wars (The Great War among them). Like the Arc de Triomphe, an eternal flame for the Unknown Soldier burns.

As someone who really enjoys eating meat, this place is like heaven. Imagine eating barbecued skewers seasoned with Indian spices. It works like a buffet, but with two parts, the “appetizer” which is the skewers, and the “main course”, which is the standard Indian food, i.e. curries, naan bread, etc. But the appetizer is so good that I would just only eat that. But of course while in India, one must try everything!

The food in India is so different from what I normally eat, it’s pretty much impossible for me to tell what anything is. At best, I can tell what’s chicken, lamb, chickpeas, paneer, etc., but I have no idea what spices are in what dish. But it doesn’t matter, because everything tastes good. Despite what a lot of people think, not all Indians eat with their hands.

People don’t really follow driving rules here. This is us driving in the oncoming lane. Everybody honks, nobody follows lane lines, and when there’s heavy traffic everybody bunches up bumper to bumper with only a few inches between each car. Cars peek left and right to find space to try to get ahead, but the problem is when everybody does it, it slows everyone down. Big trucks have signs saying “horn please” to encourage people to honk as they pass because of their blind spots.

Occasionally, traffic can slow to a halt just because of some cows blocking the street. Or traffic can be slow because some local townspeople decided to pour their own concrete on the road to build a speed bump – because the city didn’t do it. Roads are bumpy pretty much everywhere. Freeways are slowly being built, but a lot of driving is still done on these patchy roads. Oh, and people pee on the side of the road on a regular basis.

Buildings on the other hand range from giant mansions to literally five sheets of metal stacked together to form walls. The wealth gap is huge. Poorer neighbourhoods have ditches full of trash, while richer neighbourhoods have guards standing watch in the night. But despite having a big house, the power company is notoriously unreliable. Intermittent power outages happen on an almost daily basis, so those who can afford it have backup power in their homes. Some homes also have a water pump as a water supply for their home. It’s such a reversal from what people in the western hemisphere are used to.

Check out my pictures of Delhi and Meerut!

The flight was to arrive in Kuala Lumpur at around 13:00 and we would depart for Bali at 21:50. Arriving at 13:00, we should have been able to arrive in the city via Grab between 14:30 – 15:00, but it took at least an hour at the immigration line so we didn’t get to the city until after 16:00. This would leave us around 5 hours in Kuala Lumpur, which is not great, but not terrible.

We had only eaten breakfast, so by this time, we were starving. So we went to Lot 10. Everything looks super good, but in actually only tasted okay. I thought it’d be on par with my trip to Singapore.

Next, we visited a nearby street market. The market reminded me a lot of Singapore – similar food options (bak kut teh, chili crab, stingray, etc.), which makes sense since Singapore used to be a part of Malaysia.

Our next destination was the iconic Petronas Twin Towers, but all of a sudden out of nowhere, it started pouring with thunder and lightning. At first the thunder was a few kilometers away judging but how long it took to hear the sound, but not long after it was right on top of us.

We got on a Grab to head over there, but the sudden rainstorm brought traffic to a complete stop and it was barely moving. After being in the car for 30 mins and having gone less than a kilometer, the driver advised that we head to the airport directly as there wouldn’t be enough time to hit up the twin towers and make our flight. We reluctantly agreed.

During the car ride, I chatted with the driver about living in Kuala Lumpur. The driver was Cantonese in enthnicity but was born and raised in Kuala Lumpur, which I didn’t expect at all. I had forgotten about how stuck we were in traffic while chatting with the driver (at one point the driver took a bathroom break and left the keys in the ignition).

Eventually, I looked on Google Maps, and saw there was no way we’d make it to the airport by car. We decided to get dropped off at the metro station in the pouring rain and we’d take public transit the rest of the way. Check it out in Mike’s video (the raining part starts at ~5:10).

That was pretty much our trip to Kuala Lumpur. After a big delay at the airport and the freak rainstorm, we really only had 3 hours in the city to do stuff, which was too bad. See the rest of the photos here.

• Self hosted installations allow greater control over what plugins the blog uses, what domain name to use, monetization, among other things
• The cost is the added time required to tweak to do the setup and customisation

After I chose to switch to the self-hosted installation, I faced the problem of having to migrate all of my content, site stats, and followers.  I also had to set up proper URL redirection to the new website.  Most of the guides I read did answer how to migrate content, and set up URL redirects, but it was not so clear as to how to migrate my site stats and followers.

Content Migration

For migrating content, the WordPress.com blog allows exporting blog content into a file to be imported into the new WordPress installation.  Steps 1 to 3 in this guide illustrate the process: http://www.wpbeginner.com/wp-tutorials/how-to-properly-move-your-blog-from-wordpress-com-to-wordpress-org/

Migrating Site Stats and Followers

Migrating site stats and followers requires installing the Jetpack addon and linking it to the WordPress.com account (so that the self-hosted WP and the existing WP blog are connected).  Afterward, a support thread has to be made on WordPress.com to ask WP staff to do the rest of the migration (there seems to be no other way).  I found the information on how to do this at this site: http://wordpress.stackexchange.com/questions/161633/migrating-stats-from-wordpress-com-blog-to-self-hosted-wordpress-org-blog.  The post I made for my own site migration is here.

Setting Up URL Redirection

This part costs money unfortunately.  I paid ~$17 CAD for this so that my own URL would be redirected for the new one.  If redirection isn’t required, then there is no need to buy anything.  The setup is pretty straight forward.  After buying the redirect, it is just a matter of setting the destination WordPress site to go to.  Reference link here: https://en.support.wordpress.com/site-redirect/

Since I am kind of a 20th century history nerd, some of the sites that I wanted to see involve the Second World War, which led me to this trip to Nuremberg, the former stronghold of the NSDAP (The Nazi Party). It was also a change from what I was usually seeing: castles and churches, or in Deutsch, schloesser und kirchen.

I would have gone to Nuremberg with the friends I’ve met here, but none of them were as excited about it as I was, so I went alone. Going on trips alone as its advantages. The main one being that I can decide on where I want to go, rather than have to compromise with the group.

Before I left the house this morning, I made sure to check the weather. If it rained, or it was too cold, I wouldn’t go. Luckily for me, Google Weather told me that the temperature in Nuremberg would be 0 to 6 degrees. That’s warm enough for me.

Along the way, the train stopped at a few stations and when I saw the people outside, I had a suspicion that it was colder than what Google told me. Seeing the people all bundled up in toques, scarves, and big jackets, it had to be cold. Every time they exhaled, I’d see a thick fog. Later on, I even saw a lake that was completely frozen over. Hopefully the weather warms up this afternoon. In the meantime, I’ll be on the train, where it’s heated.

Looking outside the window, I got a really good view of the German countryside. In some parts, all I saw were farmlands and a few small houses. The grass sparkled as light passed through the morning dew. I guess it was warming up after all. I also saw some wind turbines and forests in the distance. I didn’t even see any paved roads until I got closer to the town. The view was made especially better with the bright blue sky and the light of the early morning. Some people took advantage of such a good day by going horseback riding on the dirt roads by the farmlands.

The usual routine for visiting a new city for me involves going to the main station (Hauptbahnhof) and then following the signs there to the tourist information center to get a free city map. Usually the step that follows is going to the old town (Altstadt). However, in this city, there was one place I had to visit. It was the National Socialist party rally grounds (Reichsparteitagsgelandes). On the site was a documentation center that recorded the history of the origin of the Nazi Party and their story up until the Nuremberg Trials. Also on the site was the area which the rally itself was held (Zeppelinfeld) and the incomplete Kongresshalle.

My first destination was the documentation center. Since all the descriptions in the museum were in German, I got an English audio guide. The documentation center also had little to offer in terms of material items to display, but they did offer a large amount of information through text.

The exhibits began with the Treaty of Versailles and the Great Depression. At the time,many Germans were used to being governed by the German Empire and did not approve of the Weimar Republic that replaced it after the end of World War I. The exhibits moved on chronologically and discussed the origins of Hitler’s paramilitary groups such as the SA (Sturmabteilung) and the SS (Schutzstaffel). There was even information about the Hitler Youth (Hitlerjugend) and how the educational system at the time taught children about the Nazi’s anti-Semitic values.

An item I saw on display was an original copy of Mein Kampf, a book Hitler wrote during his time in prison because of the Beer Hall Putsch. Others were a bronze sculpture of Hitler’s head, propaganda posters and a broken helmet of a German soldier.

While walking around the museum, there was an old man taking his grandson (assuming their relationship) to this place. I don’t think the kid knew just how serious it all was, but the grandfather looked like he was tearing up a little bit.  He looked old enough to been around during the Nazi State.

Other exhibits showed the history of the party rally site itself such as the architect, Albert Speer. There was also information about how Hitler came to power, the anti-Semitism that he instilled in the minds of the people and the terrible deeds against the Jews that he was responsible for.

The history of the war itself was brief, and focused more on the events before and after. There were clips of Nazi propaganda films, such as “Triumph of the Will” and of documentary films such as footage from the Nuremberg Trials. One of the clips spoke of a song that many Germans sang. The sole purpose of the song was to spread anti-Semitic ideals. The lyrics in the song spoke of Moses parting the Red Sea. But the lyrics involved the sea flooding Moses and the Jews while they crossed to enact the “Final Solution“.

The documentation center was constructed inside the incomplete Kongresshalle, where its purpose was to be a congress center for the Nazi party. However, due to the war, the building was never completed. If completed, the area would have been larger than the coliseum in Rome.

After exiting the documentation center, I walked around the rally grounds and found that it had been converted into a park. An artificial lake that was created as a water reservoir in the 1900’s still existed there. I walked around it and saw the Grosse Strasse (Great Road). The 40 m wide street pointed in the direction of the old town and represented the relationship between the role of Nuremberg within Third Reich and its role during the medieval times. Walking further I reached the rally grounds, known as Zeppelin Field. I recognized it immediately when I saw it. It is the site of where the iconic video of American soldiers destroying the swastika at the top of the building was filmed. I walked up the steps and took a picture of the entire area near the spot that Hitler once stood to make his speech. I walked on to the platform where he made his speeches and tried to visualize what it would have been like at the time. At the rally there would be a million people listening, watching the military demonstration by the Wehrmacht and the Luftwaffe and the cheering of “Heil Hitler”.

Since the war, there was little use for the area and since then, the spectator stands have grown grass. The field itself was converted to a football field and a bike track. Part of site is even used for motor sport events.

Since the entire area was converted into a park, there were lots of cyclists, and joggers. I saw people walking their dogs too. One dog got started shaking all of a sudden and I joked to myself that maybe the dog was afraid of Hitler. But really, the dog just got excited when another dog came by. I also saw swans on the shore of the lake and tried to take as close up of a shot as I could. If the lake wasn’t frozen, there’d be kayakers too. I hoped the ice was hard enough for me to walk on but unfortunately, the ice cracked when I stepped in it. It would have been cool to walk around on a frozen lake.

Further from the rally grounds was an old SS Barracks. It is now a government office that manages immigration. These buildings are a few of the last remaining structures that followed the Nazi style architecture.

After visiting the rally grounds, I moved on to seeing the historical European monuments, AKA schloesser und kirchen. There is no shortage of them in Germany. Out of the three churches in the old town, I only managed to get to two of them. The third one, St. Sebaldus Church, was closed when I got there. The Kaiserburg Imperial Castle was also closed, so I only managed to visit the lower levels of the castle and couldn’t make my way to the top. At the bottom of the castle was a church, and as I walked past it while heading back to the main station, I could hear a church choir singing. I would have stayed to listen to it, but I had a train to catch.

Despite the fact that there are so many churches in Gemany, the fact is that each one has a unique design. The two churches I visited were called the St. Lorenz Church and The Church of Our Lady

One thing I always enjoy when I visit the old parts of town is that there are always street performers. The music they play always sounds like it’s vintage and retro and really gives the city a historic ambience.

In addition to these attractions, Nuremberg also has the Germany National Museum, a toy museum and a Deutsche Bahn Museum. Since I only took a day trip, I didn’t have enough time to visit them all. One of the points of interests that I am quite disappointed in missing is Courtroom 600, the courtroom that the Nuremberg Trials were held.

At the moment, I’m riding the train back to Stuttgart and writing this. I look out the window and see only the reflection of the inside of the train due to the darkness of the night.

My photo album for Nuremberg