Hello all! Returning to you after a brief holiday hiatus. All good shows need one, right? I am writing to you from a new continent, and this time, I am not on a train. I do not think I will be writing on public transport for a wee while - let’s just say there are no smooth high-speed trains here.
Apparently the week between Christmas and New Year’s disappears in a puff of smoke, regardless of whether you are home or travelling. I left off in Budapest, where we had a magical Christmas evening at the Nutcracker Ballet. It was genuinely one of the most joyous experiences of my life.
We had a few more days together in Budapest with mum, Sarah, and Steve. Together, we explored Fisherman’s Bastion. It is such a unique spot, and we all loved the views, but it has become somewhat of an Instagram destination, following the (understandably epic) photos that have been taken there. That meant there were a lot of people working to get “the shot”.
We enjoyed some wintery experiences as well - Steve and I went ice skating at the largest ice skating rink in Europe, at the foot of the Vajdahunyad Castle. We also visited the Gellert Baths with Mum to ‘take the waters’, as they say.
A slightly less festive element of our time in Budapest was the rising waters of the Danube, which broke its banks due to snowmelt happening months in advance of the usual spring thaw. With temperatures in Budapest, and in fact many of the cities we frequented on this trip, being record highs for the month of December, it is impossible to ignore the visible impacts of climate change happening.
We were fortunate to be able to do an evening river cruise before the waters got too high for the boats to fit under the bridges, where we saw the city aglow. I would 10/10 recommend the experience, but maybe skip the bubbles and go for a different drink instead - it was definitely photo worthy, but not particularly drinkable.
Slowly, then all at once, the time came for us to say farewell to mum, Sarah, and Steve. After an incredible month of travelling together, they headed to Munich, and we went on to Kraków. Lots of tears, as this was my actual goodbye to mum for this year of travel. Saying goodbye was always going to be awful, but at least we got to say it in Budapest, a city we have both been dreaming of visiting, with a month of memories that we will share for a lifetime.
Jerry and I spent the lead up to the new year in Kraków, Poland. At this point, we were in need of a slower pace.
Jerry caught covid somewhere around here, and while his case was mild, he was feeling the effects (especially every time we went up the stairs to our accommodation). This has become a running theme, as every single time we’ve travelled on a longer trip, Jerry has gotten sick right in time for the new year.
We had a lovely new year in Kraków, celebrating with a multi-course home cooked meal, a list of questions that Jerry and I shared to reflect on our past year and the year ahead, and watching fireworks out of our apartment window. We woke up on New Year’s Day and experienced a beautiful dusting of snow.
We went on the hunt for some classic Polish food. Firstly, I wanted pierogi. Pierogi are filled dumplings. We tried some from Przystanek Pierogarnia (which came highly recommended on Reddit), and they did not disappoint. We tried meat pierogi, as well as spinach and cottage cheese. They did have sweet pierogi that I wanted to try for dessert another day, but we ended up having the same flavour in a pancake later instead. Helen, if you are reading this, my desert island food has changed. My new desert island food (i.e. the food I would eat if I could only eat one thing forever and ever while stuck on a deserted island) is the umbrella food of dumplings, since they seem to exist in so many different cultures, and I’m yet to find a dumpling that I don’t love.
We also ate at a bar mleczny, which is a Polish milk bar, where you can get affordable Polish food canteen-style. This is where I tried a cottage cheese and wild blueberry pancake, and Jerry had some gołąbki (stuffed cabbage). Simple, but yummy. We visited Oskar Schindler’s enamel factory, which is now a museum about the events of World War 2 in the city of Kraków, including the recount of the events that took place in Schindler’s factory. Hot tip: If you find yourself visiting Kraków, and you don’t get tickets online, DO NOT go to the factory to buy tickets. Instead, go to the Kraków Museum Visitors Centre in the central square. No wait time, we breezed in and bought tickets there, and then walked past a massively long queue at the factory, waiting to try to get tickets before the last timed slot was filled. Or, you could just buy tickets online, like we would normally do when we aren’t deciding to do something last minute! #spontaneous #whyyesIdogowiththeflowwhentheflowistakingmeexactlywhereIplannedtogo #goodluckreadingthesehashtags #arehashtagsevenstillathing?
I’m jumping across the timeline a bit here, but there is no way to write about the past two weeks without exploring the parallels between the two genocides that shaped our last two countries. An hour out of Kraków is Oświęcim, the Polish name for the town of Auschwitz. Jerry and I visited the Auschwitz-1 and Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camps, where an estimated 1.1 million people were murdered by the Nazis. Here in Cambodia, we visited S-21 Prison, also known as Tuol Sleng, and one of the many killing fields where, across the country, an estimated 1.1 million people were murdered and buried in over 20,000 mass graves by Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge. In both cases, these locations are not the only sites of dehumanisation, torture, and murder, but some of the most infamous locations of genocide in their respective countries. It has been a harrowing week of learning and reflection for us both. I don’t have anything profound to write about the experiences I have had; none which are worth reading in comparison to the accounts that already exist. However, I am left with a profound lingering sense of distress that in both places the memorials urged us to never again let something like this happen, and yet by visiting both in the span of a week, as we read the news of today, we have highlighted to ourselves that this has happened again, and again, and again.
From reading the above, I am guessing you have identified we are now in Cambodia. It was a definite journey to get here!
Flight one, Kraków to Warsaw, was just a hop, skip, and a jump. The only reason we flew and didn’t bus to Warsaw was because it was somehow cheaper to fly this route, rather than the EXACT SAME ROUTE minus the first flight. We also sat on opposite ends of the plane, since they overbooked the flight. Jerry had grandiose visions of giving up his seat and getting paid money by the airline, but I did remind him I didn’t want to end up flying 13 more hours without him if he didn’t get to Warsaw in time…Those dreams will have to wait for another flight.
The second flight gave us a teeny tiny taste of luxury. Somehow, Jerry and I ended up in a mostly empty back of the plane, which meant we got a whole row to ourselves…each! I need a sleep mask that is embroidered with “wake me when there’s food”, because you better believe we both lay down as soon as possible, despite it only being 2pm in our bodies. I was not passing up my chance for a lie flat bed in economy.
Our third flight was not quite so glamorous. The plane was packed, the seat would not recline properly, and the aircon would NOT quit, so I was slowly freezing to death (despite wearing three layers, including one merino). By this point, my deep vein thrombosis concerns had returned, and the last article I had read before boarding was about a plane on fire on the runway in Japan. Thanks Google, your reading suggestions are always so appropriate. I’m just glad the Alaska Airlines flight that had the door ripped out mid flight happened after we landed, as even my anxious creativity hadn’t dreamed up that scenario quite yet. This flight was sort of like one and a half flights, as we actually landed in Ho Chi Minh city, where most of the passengers disembarked. We got to stay on the plane, with like five other people, and fly onto Phnom Penh, after an hour on the ground. It was a wacky experience to stay onboard after everyone else leaves, as the cleanup crew come onboard and clear the rest of the plane.
Touchdown in Phnom Penh! It is the dry season here, and January is the coldest month in Cambodia. That means locals are wearing jeans, fleece bucket hats, and even puffer jackets. It is currently 34 degrees celcius. Apparently, occasionally in January, it can get down to 15 degrees. At that point, there is an outcry of fear that all the elderly and children will get sick or die. Let me remind you that Jerry’s favourite temperature range is 15-18 degrees, and he was born in the Philippines. He’s an odd duck. I will say, we have established that the aircon is our best friend in accommodation. Even with our budget-saving mindsets, we can now confirm that “fan-only” room bookings are NOT it, and the extra money for aircon is worth every penny.
Phnom Penh has been a fantastic introduction to the Southeast Asia leg of our trip. The roads are busy, but not as busy as our upcoming countries (cough cough Vietnam), so we are learning to cross the road. Grab has been incredible for catching tuk-tuks - I would highly recommend using it! So much easier to pay market rate, and avoid the hassle of haggling every time you want to go somewhere. Phnom Penh is not super walking friendly, as we found on our first night walking to get dinner. We splashed out on (our version of) flash accommodation here, so we have enjoyed the hotel pool and our sugar cane welcome drink - yes we got so excited when Agoda said the booking came with a welcome drink! How flash are we?
People have been so friendly, and very enthusiastic about our use of very limited Khmer phrases (that are gradually getting closer to the actual pronunciation!) Both restaurant and street food has been delicious, but unfortunately judicious consumption of probiotic drinks did not save me from my first bout of tummy troubles. Never fear, I am back in business after a couple of days of eating bread, and Jerry has emerged unscathed, despite eating exactly the same food as me every single day. Apparently his youth in the Philippines has hardened his stomach in a way that mine hasn’t. I’ll write about the food next time, when my tummy doesn’t make quite so many protesting sounds.
We’ve now journeyed on to Battambang, but I’ll update you more about our adventures in this city in my next segment. For now, we’re off to try to figure out how to get cash out that doesn’t come in USD $100 bills…
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