Zaragoza, Spain

I had a variety of exotic travelling ideas lined up for 2020. And Covid-19 has driven a coach and horses through all of them. 

So here I am with my reluctant back-up plan, which is to spend the rest of this year idly mooching (masked & sanitised of course) around Spain. I hope you all feel sorry for me. Maybe I should start up a JustGiving page or something.

This particular town was conquered by the Romans around the time of Christ, and they called it 'Caesaraugusta' in honour of the then emperor Augustus. The locals couldn't quite pronounce 'Caesaraugusta' properly, hence it's now 'Zaragoza'. It's the capital of Aragon, as in Catherine of Aragon, first wife of our own Henry VIII.

Other than the above, I did absolutely no homework on Zaragoza before arriving here. Whenever I'm staying somewhere for a decent spell (say 5 to 7 days), I prefer to ignore the 'must-do' list of tourist attractions until day two or three. On day one, I like to just head out and let the town surprise me. During my first evening stroll here I turned a corner and chanced unexpectedly upon the Basilica del Pilar, as per the pictures. It's quite a sight. 

Zaragoza has always been a bit overlooked by the foreign tourist trade, and especially so in this Year of Plague. I've hardly heard another foreign voice since I've been here. That suits me down to the ground, because it's a nice place to be, and I kind of feel like I've got it all to myself. On my last Spain trip (in 2017) I visited a lot of the obvious places, Barcelona & Seville & Marbella and so on, but this time I shall be going off the tourist trail and "living la vida local". Ha ha. Stay tuned.

Basilica del Pilar

Another view of the Basilica

Parque Grande Jose Antonio Labordeta

Ryanair on the way out, mid-flight. The whole of the front three rows were mine alone.
I've never been first off a plane before. We live in strange times.

In honour of the nearby Basilica, this tourist shop sells sweets called 'Nun's Titties'.
This particular box is almond flavour. 

Aljafería
11th-century Moorish palace, UNESCO-listed.
Now used as the regional parliament for Aragon.

Roman theatre
1st century AD, uncovered by archaeologists in 1973

Comfy 2nd floor apartment in the middle of the old town

Edd vs Food #83
Home-cooked bangers and mash 
Sweet potato mash, to be precise. With onions and peas.
In Spain, gravy is not a thing. I used Roquefort cheese sauce instead.

Gdansk, Poland

If you think 'Gdansk' is a difficult one to pronounce, be advised that my local train station here is called 'Wrzeszcz'.

This is where my 2019 blog ends. (Don't all burst into tears at once). I'm not going home just yet, but I will be soon, and anyway my camera appears to have stopped working. I really don't expect you all to read my waffle without the compensating benefit of a few pretty pictures. Nor do I have any confidence about getting my camera fixed in a foreign country where I don't speak the language. It's a fair bet that they'd charge me 250 zlotys for an 'inspection fee', after which they'd put it in a cupboard for 24 hours and then tell me it can't be repaired.

Also I've decided to discontinue the tradition of ending each blog with a 'homecoming' picture, because otherwise Sunderland will always be the first thing people see on my blog when I'm between trips. It doesn't exactly lure people in.

Gdansk is nice. Nothing to write home about. Some significant history to do with World War 2 and the Solidarity trade union movement of 40-odd years ago. Further north up the coast are Sopot and Gdynia, nice seaside towns, bathed in sunshine at this time of year. My Gdansk apartment is in the Zaspa area: it's on the 6th floor and it has balconies at both front and back, through which cooling breezes make a steady one-way journey. My local Carrefour has a decent selection of imported beers. Everything's cushty.

Apart from interludes in Finland and Spain, and both parts of the island of Ireland, and now in Poland, this trip has been all about the north-western remnants of the former USSR. The three Baltic states are of course very different to Ukraine, which is in turn a long way removed from Belarus. But I enjoyed all five countries and I'd gladly go back to any or all of them.

I don't know when my 2020 trip will take place. Probably it won't be in summer, because for the past two months I've been sweating like a dyslexic on "Countdown", and I don't think I want to repeat that. Nor have I picked a continent just yet. Let's see what the visa rules look like after Brexit. It's all going to be sorted out soon, right? Right?

Enjoy the rest of 2019.

Along the Motlawa river

As above

Sopot

Sopot pier

My apartment in Zaspa

Mrozinscy?
Didn't he used to be in the Szmiths?

Edd vs Food #82
Home comforts...

Minsk, Belarus

In 1991, the only member of the Belarusian parliament to oppose the dissolution of the Soviet Union was one Alexander Lukashenko, a former collective-farm director and Soviet army official who then became president in 1994 by winning Belarus's first ever democratic election. 25 years on, guess who's still in charge?

Belarus is commonly known as 'Europe's last dictatorship' and essentially it's true. No serious opposition leader has ever stayed out of jail for long. Belarus is also the last place in Europe that retains the death penalty. Most of the economy is state-controlled, albeit often via cronyism and corruption rather than formal socialism per se. Civil society is kept on a very tight leash. In short, this is a country that goes against almost everything that I believe in.

And yet, and yet...I've hardly encountered any police or security officials. The streets and parks are clean and safe at all hours. The metro and buses are cheap and reliable. Unemployment is minimal. Nobody sleeps rough. During a night out along Zibitskaya, where the best bars are, the clientele drank deeply, laughed loudly and sang karaoke lustily; they all looked as happy and carefree as anybody else in Europe. Not much English is spoken, but people are friendly and reliable wherever you go. It's cooler here than in Kiev, and mosquito-free as far as I can tell.

Does this mean I'm suddenly converted to Soviet nostalgia and to benevolent dictatorship? Not at all. But it's certainly given me something to think about. There is a growing worldwide cynicism about our smugly complacent Western liberal-capitalist-democratic model, and we can't just laugh it off.

It's time for an innovation: sound. On the Minsk metro, each impending departure is announced by a pleasing Fmaj9 chord (that's what you get if you play an F and the next four alternate white notes on the piano), as well as "Please mind the closing doors!", spoken by a camp version of Darth Vader.  I have recorded it for your listening pleasure and it's here.

One last thing. I had a bit of bother on departure. Foreigners are supposed to register with the police if they stay longer than 5 days: it's normally the hotel's responsibility to do the paperwork, but you have to do it yourself if you're staying at a private address, and evidently that's what AirBnB apartments are. Anyway, I hadn't registered, and so all of a sudden I was an illegal alien. I spent some time being interrogated politely by two uniformed officials, both lithe young blondes of course, at the end of which I was given an administrative warning and a long confession to sign (in Belarusian). How many of you have ever brushed up against the law in a dictatorship, eh? Beat that. I am now officially a Bad Boy and I bring excitement into all your lives. You're welcome.

Church of Saints Simon & Helena, at Independence Square

Memorial to 5,000 Jews shot in this place by the Nazis during one day in 1942.
This sculpture recreates the victims being herded down into the pit.
Each figure was sculpted individually by hand.
There are pregnant women, and children clinging to their parents. One man plays a violin.

This is the headquarters of the KGB.
Yes, it's still going, and yes, they still call it that.
Apparently you're not supposed to take pictures here.
Oops.

Statue of Lenin. (Independence Square used to be called Lenin Square).
One day this will be knocked down.

Island of Tears
Memorial to soldiers killed in the Sovet-Afghan war, 1979-1989.

Museum of the Great Patriotic War (WW2)

Homely Soviet-style AirBnB apartment

Edd vs Food #81
Potato cakes
In foreign fast food joints, it's easy to avoid linguistic confusion.
Just take a pic from the menu and show it at the till.
And then you can put the photo in your blog when you forget to take a picture of the actual food.