Ascensors, Azulejos, and a side of Port

An early morning arrival at Santa Apolónia Station – a culmination of three rail journeys that started in London – puts me right in the heart of the Alfama district, the oldest neighborhood in Lisbon. Like every other tourist, I’m probably a nuisance to locals here, as I drag my bag up its steep cobblestone streets, awaking everyone in my path. Truth be told though, this is an excellent bit of acclimatization for me. In a city renowned for near vertical alleys, lofty perches and great vistas, Alfama is quintessentially Lisbon.P1070321

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The lure of the Cape

Welgelegen is Afrikaans for well-situated. Located in the Oranjezicht neighborhood of Cape Town is a namesake guest house, comprising all of 13 rooms, housed in two late 19th-century Victorian buildings. With Table Mountain visible right behind, it certainly lives up to its name. For me, its the perfect antidote to nearly 17-hours of flying.IMG_2799 Continue reading “The lure of the Cape”

Pullman-style to the Windy City

In their 29th season, The Simpsons hit up New Orleans, and while there, Homer went on a whistle-stop food tour. Gene’s was one of his stops. Open 24-hours, Gene’s serves a smashingly good Po’boy, as I can finally attest to. Right across from it, the latest extension of the city’s endearing streetcar system, one that I could hardly tire of riding. Both of those cultural icons, only a stone’s throw away from my Airbnb. Its good to be back in the Big EasyIMG_1587 Continue reading “Pullman-style to the Windy City”

Silver Star to NYC

The rising sun gradually illuminates Biscayne Bay, the Port of Miami, and eventually, our hotel room. Hushed conversations, and the stirrings of the morning are difficult to ignore, and there’s far too much daylight by now, to continue snoozing through. South Beach lies, but 4-miles away. I coerce myself out of bed, lace up, and head out across the Venetian Causeway
IMG_0950 Continue reading “Silver Star to NYC”

Magistrale Diaries: The land of the Khaans

Two knocks on the cabin door and some garbled words spoken by our Provodnitsa are enough to awaken us. Outside, to the backdrop of rolling hills, trucks line a highway that gradually reveals an industrial sprawl. There’s a definite nip in the air and the sun is yet to make an appearance. Moments later, just a few minutes behind our advertised time, we pull in to Ulaanbaatar, the capital of Mongolia…P1020609

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Magistrale Diaries: Naushki, and the International Border

We’re already at Ulan-Ude when I awake. It seems we had the time zones all mixed up – Moscow+5 it shall be for the rest of our trip. We had it right 3 years ago though, alighting here at 4 in the morning local time, just to pay our respects to the junction where the Trans Mongolian bifurcates from the Trans Siberian.

Its barely daybreak as we step outside, and the station thermometer displays a chilly 12C or 54F. As the first rays of light peak out from behind, Ulan-Ude is slowly coming to life. We have a 45-minute halt here, where our locomotive is changed – electric giving way to diesel – and more than half of our original train formation is cut off. We will be seven carriages long upon departure, and ours will bring up the rear.IMG_8059 Continue reading “Magistrale Diaries: Naushki, and the International Border”

Magistrale Diaries: Baikal Magic

There’s a distinct chill in the morning air as Train 78 races east towards Irkutsk. The terrain is as flat as can be, but given that we’re scheduled to arrive there at the unearthly hour of 06:09, we get to watch a gorgeous sunrise on our way in. Arrival into Irkutsk-Passazhirsky is eventually 3-minutes early, its beautiful station building basking in brilliant morning light.IMG_7870

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