Tag Archives: women traveling solo

Belgium, Greece, Iceland, Malta, Portugal, The Netherlands

The Best Beaches in Europe or where to find serenity

23 August 2020 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

The beach was the first place I went after 4 months of quarantine. That wide horizon, the endless sea where two shades of blue meet in the middle, far away, is the absolute definition of freedom. In normal times and even more in different times.

I’m not picky. As long as there’s a blue sea, waves, sand, seagulls and a breeze, that is my place. And my beloved Europe has so many of my places, my favourite beaches, each one for its own reasons.

I don’t make tops or charts or rankings or whatever. I make a list of some of my favourite beaches in Europe discovered and enjoyed in 11 countries.

Malta

The only place I was during one summer and went back the next one. The first place I did snorkelling and still consider it’s the best in Europe for underwater life. And the first place I started to do beach hopping: more then 3 beaches in one day.

First time I went to Ramla Bay, walked on the red soft sand and watched the waves as white lines on a cobalt blue sea, I called it my favourite beach in the world. I loved it so much I came back a year after.

The turquoise waters, the ideal swim from one shore to the other, the calm waters, the white sand and the schools of fish I was swimming with makes The Blue Lagoon the most exotic beach in Europe. And one of my favourite places to swim.

Croatia

A morning walk with medieval scent in Dubrovnik followed by a cooling swim and beach time on Banje Beach. The incredible blue of the Adriatic, where you can see your toes while swimming and the white sand many meters beneath, all framed by St John Fortress walls in Dubrovnik’s port on the right and fuchsia bougainvillea, huge aloe vera with 4 meters high flowers and palm trees on the left, made me wonder if this image truly exists.

Belgium

This place has much more to offer besides thousands o types of beer (the best in the world) and delicious chocolates. For a real cooling, head North until you meet the North Sea in Ostend. Mariakerke Beach, with orange sand and moody breeze where kids run barefoot even in winter months and where cold is not felt. And where the best mussels with fries are served in all restaurants on the long promenade.

Italy

La bella Italia is always a good idea. You can’t go wrong anywhere you’ll head. Rapallo, Portofino, Santa Margerita Ligure, Camogli, Amalfi, Capri, Cinque Terre, Polignato a Mare in Puglia… choosing a place – that’s a hard choice. I had the best swim in Marina Picola, in Capri, with the hypnotising Med blue and tens of yachts around, the scent of pine and the tztztztz song of the cicadas.

Or should I call it the fanciest, on the island where people drink champagne in the port and on all the other terraces and the restaurants with white pianos behind translucent voiles moved by the breeze gives the island a heaven feel. I was so spoilt in Capri!

For a swim with a view in Italy, I can’t possibly decide between Amalfi, Positano and Manarola, in Cinque Terre. Swim away from the shore in any of these places and admire the breathtaking views of the coast, with coloured houses, all that la grande bellezza.

France

One of my favourite countries for all the reasons in the world, France, has one of the top summer destinations in Europe. The French Riviera, like its neighbour Italian Riviera, is a must go anytime. Though I consider Saint Tropez overrated, maybe because I was there without a car, helicopter and yacht, Pampelonne Beach beach has a few things to say to beach lovers. As the absolute playground for the rich and famous from all over the world, Pampelonne Beach has been the epicentre of glam, sparkle and shine ever since the 50s. Literally, this beach is a legend that has seen many stars on two feet wandering around. C’est chic et c’est cher (chic and expensive) but it’s totally worth a swim and a beach stroll between Nikki Beach and Club 55. Sante! (Cheers)

From St Tropez to Cannes, passing by Cap d’Antibes, Beaulieu sur Mer, and up to Monaco there are plenty of places to enjoy some quiet time or some loud time. One I will always remember is a swim from sunset to full moon rise in Nice, by the famous Promenades des Anglais. For that and much more I will always vote for France in summer.

Netherlands

Beach lovers are of many kinds, but two categories are the main ones: those who like to just lay on the sand all day long and do nothing more exhausting then sipping a lemonade and those who, the moment they see water, their heart starts pumping harder and no matter the outside temperatures, the sea is their playground. Scheveningen, the seaside resort close to The Hague, with its long sandy beach, an esplanade, a pier, and a lighthouse, is the playground for water-sports lovers that come here in great numbers for windsurfing and kiteboarding. No matter the season, it has the beach vibe I need after some time spent inland.

Greece

When it comes to summer love and beach addiction, Greece is a top destination in the world. Sail there until you find its beauty, that where white houses meet the dark Mediterranean blue and where the breeze whispers legends of the Gods among bougainvillea pink flowers pouring down on white walls, where the therm instagrammable is defined and where each corner is made for a beautiful framed memory. Where my roots are coming from and where, hopefully, I can fly again for a few days until this summer ends.

For me, Santorini is the representation of all I have ever dreamed about Greece. Not the ideal Greek island for beaches though. The Red Beach is curious but looks dangerous, with rocks ready to fall down on your head from the steep wall of rocks above. Perissa Beach on the other hand is lovely, with its black volcanic sand that gets so hot it burns your feet.

Portugal

From the sweet Porto wine and Fado music heard on narrow colourful streets in Lisbon in a hot August afternoon, to the fairytales castles up in Sintra and then down to its fabulous Algarve coast, with hidden beaches and the white houses in Albufeira, I carry Portugal in my heart forever. My favourite coast in Europe for the highest number of beaches and the most spectacular. Close to Lagos, Praia de Dona Ana is one of the most photographed but my most favourite is Praia de Camilo, with its 93 stairs down to a gorgeous beach.

Close to Albufeira, one of the most picturesque beaches on Algarve coast, Praia da Marinha, with yellow sand, calm waters and with striking colourful cliff-sides and rocks raising up from the blue Atlantic waters.

The best is Praia de Benagil, a beach inside a cave accessible only by sea, with turquoise waters touching the golden sand, two entrances from the ocean and an open roof with views to the blue sky on top. This beach is spectacular and will blow your mind.

Portugal is the place I would go back 3 times every summer. And winter, to watch the best surfers in the world coming here to Nazare, on Praia do Norte, to ride the big waves and break the records. The biggest wave ever surfed till now happened in November 2017 in Nazare: 24,38m.

Spain

Spoiled by the sun with long summers and caressed by the waves of the Mediterranean and the Atlantic, Spain was my first summer destination abroad. On Playa del Duque in Costa Adeje, Tenerife, I was stunned by the exotic beauty of the place. Then brought back to reality by the Atlantic waves, never before seen so strong, making fun of everyone entering the waters, rolling people over the beach. I got sand deep into my soul after those whirlpools and laughter to remember a lifetime.

On La Barcelonetta I felt the vibes of a beach between the sea and the city and on La Malaguetta the magic of Costa del Sol (Sun Coast).

I caught the last days of summer in September, right before it leaves Europe to move to further places on the beaches of Marbella and walk the Golden Mile from Puerto Banus to Marbella, 7,6km by the sea where you can lay your towel everywhere you please.

Puerto Banus, Marbella, Cost del Sol, Spain

I got stung by a Moon jellyfish and thought I just lost a finger judging by the stubbing pain. But it didn’t stop me an hour later from trying SUP for the first time in a sea full of those purple nasty creatures.

The best shades of blue and the softest sand meet the crazy parties at night and day in Mallorca. If the beauty of its beaches won’t get you drunk, for sure the alcohol cocktails drank from plastic big buckets will. Don’t try it unless in a large group.

Romania

Enjoy the silence in the wild, among cormorants and pelicans, in the middle of a bird’s paradise on one of Romania’s well kept secrets, Sfantu Gheorghe (St George) beach, formed where the river Danube ends its journey through 10 countries and meets the Black Sea. A beach in a delta gives a new sweet and salty and amazing perspective.

Iceland

If July and August in Europe seem too hot and some want to escape the heat and find a cold refuge in the North, the land of fire and ice, Iceland, has the place: Diamond Beach.

A black picture perfect line of sand decorated with small icebergs and pieces of 1,000 year old ice calved off from the Breiðamerkurjökull glacier and washed away into the Atlantic freezing waters. It looks just as phenomenal as sparkling diamonds on black velvet. Maybe not ideal for a swim, but I guarantee it’s one of the most spectacular beaches I’ve seen.

Denmark

Copenhagen: Hygge & 10 little big secrets

18 August 2020 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

The Friday

I smelled pot. Not like in Amsterdam but strong enough. In a few meters I saw where the smell was coming from. The street I entered was full of dealers with small stalls improvised where piles of different types of dry marijuana were waiting to make someone happy.

– Come, wanna try? It’s good stuff, come try and see. Here… said a loud voice.

I ignored the invitation. If I didn’t know I was in one of the safest capitals in Europe, I might have felt very insecure in that underground area. Was just one of the colourful sides of Copenhagen.

When there’s an avalanche forecast and terrible weather in Lofoten, Norway, good old Europe has always a treat to offer for a freezing weekend at the end of January. I got the ticket three days before the flight.

A chilly Friday morning in a city with deserted streets after the cold winter rain. The kind of welcome typical for the North that I so deeply love.

The icon, Nyhavn

With very little preparation since it was a last minute decision, I decided to see the city by going with the flow and see what happens. I took my camera and left the room from the hotel near by the Central Station. I took a cold deep breath before what was to be a whole day long walk, my favourite thing to do when I’m away. I followed the flow of people, passed by Tivoli Gardens, City Hall Square, Rådhuspladsen and found a pedestrian street that seemed nice to walk, filled with stores. I later found out it was the famous Strøget Street, one of the longest shopping streets in Europe, of 1,1km, also one of the most high-profile streets of “København”.

When a student doing a poll among those looking like tourists asked if I liked the city and why, I replied I still don’t now, it’s been 2h only. But I already felt I will.

I was quickly convinced a few meters in the front, where I smelled something delicious coming from on oven. I was hungry so I entered the place and bought a Kanelstang, a cinnamon rod. It was a bakery with an impossible name: Lagkagehuset. The next second I thought why didn’t I know this exists?! This famous, old and very traditional Danish delicious pastry, I’ve learned after, a cinnamon twist but much larger and cut in slices, is a wonder of taste with two types of filling, vanilla cream and cinnamon filling. From that moment I’ve found my obsession in Copenhagen and every day I had 2-3 slices, even bought a few pieces for home.

In King’s New Square, enjoying my street food lunch, a hotdog, (another reason why I like Northern Europe), I watched the sky getting clear and the rays of sun enhancing the colours of Nyhavn, the symbol of the city. A picture perfect view in a place where you’d wish your stroll to be a never-ending one.

I continued by the water, in a quiet area, crossing a bridge and arriving in a place where the Nordic architecture, perfect in its minimalism, was at home. I crossed a street following the indicator for the place I was searching for. A few steps further another world has opened: old buildings, abandoned warehouses with rusty walls covered in graffiti and impressive street art murals, little streets with cosy little eateries and bars – Freetown Christiania. An autonomous anarchist district and most hippie neighbourhood in Denmark’s capital. Placed in a once abandoned military base, where in the 70’s a group of hippies broke down the barricades and declared the place as their own, completely independent of the Danish government and laws. Since then it stays like this. Nowadays 1000 people live there, by their own rules, once published at the entrance: “Dear friends, There are three rules in the green light district: have fun; don’t run—it causes panic; no photos—buying and selling hash is still illegal.”

The so called Green Light District was that day ,as in most days when the police is not coming for a visit that ends in multiple arrests, covered in a cloud of pot smoke. Some were selling, some were buying, many were smoking. Everywhere. All in the open. In spite this taste of freedom, cannabis is illegal in Denmark and consumption, possession and selling will get one in prison if caught. If…but until then, freedom gets translated here is disobedience.

Besides the dizzying clouds lifting up in the air, over the roofs, the place is also known for adopting a way of living that discourages consumerism, mass production and many other sins of our modern world. Here those are replaced with a slow living garnished with its benefits: hand crafted products, bio foods and the serenity of those 1000 living far from the madding crowds working 9 to 5 and more to pay for what they, and myself included here, don’t even need. After all, Christiania has a strong point, besides being a controversial commune.

The blue hour in Nyhavn is magical. Has so much of that charm from the old times. As the lights in each of the coloured houses are turned on, the guests occupy their tables in restaurants, voices and laughs and kitchen noises begin and the scent of delicious meals fill the air of an almost there Friday night.

A light cold drizzle fell over the streets, the roofs and all those people wandering the city just as I arrived back at my hotel.

Learning Hygge in Copenhagen

Meeting new people is one of the best things that happen when traveling solo. So I got an invitation for a late drink that I accepted.

– Happy New Year!

I raised my eyes from my tom yom soup, in the Thai restaurant across my hotel where we met.

– It’s almost February, for how long are people going to continue make this wish? I said amused.

– Exactly why I said it.

It was almost midnight and I didn’t feel the next hours vanishing. I had a lovely night, with great company, conversation and beer, in a bar decorated as if for one main purpose: to explain to foreigners the principles of hygge concept. From the warm atmosphere as we entered the place, completely hidden in dark, with the only source of light from the white candles placed on black tables or by the large windows facing the street, were rare passers by were moving as shadows in the dark, to the low nice music. The minimal design inside, with simple yet smart chosen pieces, cozy pillows and candles everywhere, still maintaining a diffused light, was the perfect picture of the famous Danish way of life that took in recent years the world by storm, with books, classes and masters promising to explaining basically how to live slow and enjoy the moments of peace. Hygge is about enjoying the good things in life with dear people around, lighting a candle in a long cold winter night, have a glass of wine or movie. Candlelight is hygge, cosying up with a loved one is hygge, relax is hygge….

– What we are doing right now, this is hygge. Now you understand it.

By the end of that Friday night the drizzle stopped, the streets got empty and I have learned hot to pronounce the word HYGGE like Danish do. Somehow similar to the English word “hiccup” .

The Saturday

I took a long walk in that cold sunny day. Rød pølse (red sausage) from one of the the ubiquitous stalls selling hot dogs and kanelstang (cinnamon rod) from Lagkagehuset for my Danish breakfast.

Strøget Street was entirely packed with people, Nyhavn even more. The normal Saturday mood in any European capital, busy and madly crowded. A waiter was cleaning the tables outside the restaurant opened in the former St. Nicholas Church, just in case the sunny day will encourage anyone to eat al fresco. The oldest church in town is used now also as a gallery for a contemporary art centre. In the North, this kind of metamorphoses of churches is not rare.

I continued my stroll from Amalienborg, the home of the Danish royal family where the serious guards were the subject of tourists thousands of photos, to Kastellet, a star shaped old military fortress, with the near-by beautiful Anglican church St Alban, built in grey stone, with a high spire and gorgeous stained glass windows. I couldn’t decide which side is best, the one facing the green park, next to an old tree, or the one by the lake behind it. With its peace and green in the middle of winter, the white clouds mirroring the lake, this place is probably my favourite in Copenhagen.

Langeline Park for a little stop and then another long walk, by the sea, to Copenhagen most photographed stop: The Little Mermaid, inspired by the Danish author Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale about a mermaid who gives up immortality in the depths for the love of a prince on land. The rays of sun right before sunset were penetrating the heavy grey clouds and the little statue in bronze, caught in the middle of the scene, with the sea as a background, like the celebrity of the city, which indeed she is. It took me about 20 minutes to get a chance to take a single photo without having many people by the statue.

Known as the oldest and most beautiful street in Copenhagen, there is no wonder why Magstræde, with its coloured old houses and cobbled pavement is the most instagrammed, photographed, shared, posted and liked. Little adorable shops like one in the basement of an old building, with baby blue wooden old windows, where a woman was creating arrangements made of dry flowers while I stoped in front that pretty window and couldn’t stop watching her, the bar with in an old library, the shining old silverware shop. I went up and down the street a few times until blue hour covered again the city.

I waited 30 minutes for a bubble tea inside Tase of Taiwan just because I got convinced by the line in front. I got taro milk tea just because it was purple. And just because I wanted to try something new, I discovered my next crush. I fell in love with the taste of taro.

Tivoli, the 176 years old amusement park, right in the middle of the city, was closed for guests in those days. To see it just a little bit I entered through a restaurant, then access the terrace outside, facing the park. With cold hands in a freezing windy evening, I sipped my taro ice bubble tea in the most dreamy winter wonderland….of fake snow. The park was being painted in white for Winter in Tivoli, an event meant to bring the white winter in a city that so far that winter have seen no snow.

– In my first winter here, 8 years ago, it was snow starting November and lasted a few months. In recent years…global worming…and now, this year, no snow at all.

Was the answer to my silly question: does it snow in Copenhagen. Sure it does.

I met my good old friend from Nepal in a cozy 18th-century basement venue with ceiling beams: Puk restaurant. A place well known for the delicious traditional food it serves. We had the famous Smørrebrød, open-faced sandwich with rye bread topped with all kind of toppings, pickled herring, wild salmon, flæskesteg – Danish pork roast, Leverpostej – Danish liver pate, frikadeller – Danish meatballs and so many dishes in small portions so we can taste more. In the end, I felt like a balloon. but I knew the memories of this dinner will make me crave for it many times later.

We said fair well when the night was turning to morning, after 2 more bars and 2 more beers with long and pleasant conversations about Denmark, his life as a Nepalese in Copenhagen, about Nepal wonders and caste traditions and our more then 10 years friendship. I renewed my promise to visit his country. At that time we draw a plan for next year.

Nothing did I know in that weekend at the end of January 2020, with crowded streets, Saturday night out, dining in restaurants and so many travels on the list for the year that has just begun. That reality seemed forever. Copenhagen was wonderful in all means, was like a deep breath before a long dive. How much I now miss what I never thought I will one day: flying

Next: my favourite beaches in Europe.

United Arab Emirates

Dubai – All that money can buy (Day 2)

16 June 2020 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

In a city that offers all that money can buy, it can be difficult to decide what you want and how to spent the most precious currency that exists: time. But I knew: my first helicopter ride. I will fly above Dubai.

Morning: High in Dubai

A breakfast with a view, Dubai Marina view. Not on a terrace, but a bridge. And not a real breakfast actually, but definitely one to remember. The day started like this, with dates milkshake and gazing at the grey curtain of skyscrapers mirroring their shapes in the silver waters where luxury white yachts slid up and down the Marina. Doing this cost me 30 minutes of my second day in Dubai.

12pm

The taxi dropped me in front of Dubai Police Academy, close to Jumeirah beach. A jeep was already for me at the gates, to drive me inside through the security zone. It looked like a highly protected area. I knew by the noise, minutes later, that we’ve reached the starting point: a white helicopter was just landing.

The preparation for the helicopter ride took about an hour, inside the centre, with a session of safety instructions and technical info, including how to get in and off the helicopter when it lands on land or water. After the theoretical part, waiting for my ride and watching other customers coming and going, I observed how the whole thing was happening. I’ve noticed there was also a second helicopter operating, a black one that landed later. That looked so cool, I instantly wished my ride will be with that one. There were 5 seats in a helicopter, so only one seat in front, near the pilot. A kind of VIP seat… No matter the colour of the helicopter, I thought, I just hoped I won’t be sitting on a middle seat…. Seeing people leaving and the expressions of thrilled they had when they were landing back was not just fun to watch, but also increasing my impatience.

Finally my turn came. Me and 3 other girls were forming the group. The white helicopter was on the helipad, waiting for the next group. We were waiting in line and I thought that one it’ll be ours… And then I heard the noise. The trees outside started moving. The black one was landing back and the white helicopter just took off. I heard someone from the security telling us to wait in line inside.

– You’re alone so you’ll be sitting in the front, he told me.

These were the words I wanted to hear after paying almost 200$ for a few minutes ride. I was so happy.

The next minute my hair was blowing all over my face as I approached the black and cool helicopter. I took my seat in the front with a smile reaching from one ear to the other, that got even bigger when I laid my eyes on the so very good looking pilot: dark haired, with a short beard, wearing a pilot uniform and a fab smile.

– Hi, welcome! And there we were, all 5, ready to fly up in the sky.

I got the headset on, receiving the last indications from the security stuff as they closed the door. I heard the noise increasing and felt the moment we took off, leaving the ground, going up and up until the cars got smaller and the highway above became a line beneath us. Seen from the sky, the distances didn’t seem so large and the map of Dubai started imprinting on my mind. The Palm and The Atlantis, Dubai Marina, then we turned right and headed towards downtown, where Burj Khalifa was guarding the city from its heart, the middle of the skyscrapers that look tinny compared to the 160 levels sharp structure. It was a clear day with great visibility for this mind-blowing desert city where this is a rare gift.

The views were spectacular. We were communicating through the headset and I was the one asking questions: how close can you get to the downtown and Burj Al Arab – not very unless you have a permit to land there, where was the famous Kite Beach. Then we turned back, flying along the coast line, Jumeirah beach, Kite Beach and then Burj Al Arab, half a circle around the 7th stars hotel passing a little over the legal limit of distance for helicopters that are not landing on its helipad. We saw again the huge The Palm, the man made complex of islands forming the shape of a palm tree, we saw The World, the artificial archipelago of 300 islands laid out in the Persian Golf in the shape of Earth’s continents.

Two more breath takes and we were heading back, getting closer to the helipad, ready to land. I was thrilled! It was worth every scent and choosing Dubai for my first helicopter ride was a great idea for the unique landmarks.

At the end of the ride, as we step out the helicopter, a few cameras jumped in as if we got famous while up there in the air. Then I found out our memories came with a price. I took the cheapest version, 2 photos (only) for 50bucks. It wasn’t allowed to do any photo shooting around the helicopter but of course I got my selfie with the pilot up in the sky 😉 In Dubai, even memories come with a price.

3pm

Afternoon: Man made miracle

Another taxi dropped me an hour later in front of Miracle Garden. I wandered among structures of all shapes, from a castle to a plane and cartoon characters, all made of flowers. With 28C, the garden smelled like summer, the January summer in the Golf. This place is another superlative of Dubai: the world’s largest natural flower garden, 72K square metres with over 50 million flowers and 250 million plants.

In the middle of the desert, open for visitors between November and March, before the burning summer temperatures start turning all into dust. My battle here was a classic one for single travellers: obtaining 2-3 decently framed photos that, as an exception, will include myself. An exception because I prefer the photos of beautiful places with no people in the picture, an achievement that in most places takes a lot of patience. But the biggest challenge when traveling alone is people’s natural gift for ruining a photo. Of course, many of my friends are too in this category but at least I can ask nicely for a new try and help with indications. With strangers, that would be rude…. I can talk a whole day about these funny yet annoying fails that happened to me, like for ex. the best panoramic pic of Dubrovnik where my feet were cut off or the one with the RIP Blue Window in Gozo, Malta, (now gone into the see) where the natural monument, the window, the reason of the photo, was cut in half… Still, I never give up and eventually I get the photo I want. And so I did in Miracle Garden, though people were swarming everywhere at that hour.

6pm

Evening: At the top

45 minutes of waiting for a bus that didn’t come change my plans for saving some budget using the public transport. I jumped in a taxi to get right in time in Dubai Mall, for my VIP entrance for At The Top of Burj Khalifa at 7pm. I got the ticket the day before, from an open office I saw in the mall, where people were waiting in line. I thought that must be the place. I almost had a heart attack when I heard the price: almost 100 euro. My credit card was in pain. Only long after I realised IT was a good deal, because most people go to see level 128. My crazy pricey ticket offered priority access and the chance to see Dubai from level no 148.

We were about 5 people in the line: two Russian women, beautiful and very branded, a French couple, both very tall and good looking, him looking more young. And myself, this time dressed for a helicopter ride + a drink in the highest lounge in the world, so nicely. On the other side, for normal tickets line, tens of people were waiting. We entered through a separate door after they checked our passes, the stuff repeated the check later. In a hall a long line of people were waiting. We passed by them and went further. It felt nice that VIP status. I very soon realised Burj Khalifa is not just a huge building of 160 floors, there are 160 levels of luxury and the most perfect finishes, the contractor save no penny when it came to materials and designs. It’s spotless from what I’ve seen this entire private property where the only access is through the mall, buying a ticket, or the main entrance if you have a reservation at one of the restaurants inside.

We took two elevators and in seconds we were at level 148. From the moment the doors opened, it is jaw dropping. The lounge is small but cosy, with scattered light, candles and orchid as decorations. The closed balcony that surrounds the place offers views that makes you feel you’re on top of the world.

It was getting dark and I think it was the best moment, to see as the blue hour turns into night into millions of lights from the skyscrapers beneath and the multitude of highways and boulevards. What a city, indeed! I had to admit, I was impressed. An ambition made reality but with a good dose of good taste and elegance. I admired the views and I just couldn’t get enough.

Level 128, crowded and closer to the earth seemed quite ordinary after I finally decided to leave level 148. I didn’t even wanna take many photos. The best part here was that the water fountain, the Dubai Fountain started the show of lights and music and seen from above it looked gorgeous.

Due to the large number of people, the place feels very touristy, compared to the laid back and spoiled mood from the previous level. A souvenir shop covers most of the place, where the price for a box of chocolate gives you ideas that it might be gold, leaving a little room for an interactive floor made of a screen with image of the city above that cracks under people’s feet as they step on it.

I felt overwhelmed enough and I wanted to leave. Hundreds were forming an endless line to the elevators. Oh God, I will sleep here tonight… I thought. But my 100 euro ticket saved me, the VIP guests had priority using another elevator, smaller and faster. Suddenly, adding this too, plus the whole experience, those 100 euro I payed for didn’t hurt any more. I’m glad that just by chance I made the best choice.

9pm

Dubai Fountain was playing the moment I got out the mall. With people filling every single place at the tables around, with waiters from the restaurants running with plates filled with dishes, with crowds gathered around Burj Khalifa lake, the music, the water jets up the sky, the night sky with the moon watching down to us. When the show of water and light stopped, the lake was completely covered with little lights, as a replica of the sky above.

11pm

The day was done, with every minute from morning till night spent so perfectly – Carpe Diem. A summer night mood was filling the city with its warm breeze. In this city of so many worlds where all that money could buy has been build, created and raised from the desert sand, I wished I had more… not money, but time.

Next: Dubai day 3 – sunrise in the desert, Old Town, Jumeirah beach

Indonesia

Bali: swimming with manta rays

28 January 2020 My Beautiful Places Leave a comment

What’s marvellous in life is the unexpected, the unplanned that lies behind that magical number 24, the hours defining every day. It can bring the most unbelievable situations and you never know in the morning that by noon it might be the happiest day, or the saddest. I once read this: “Don’t judge a day by a few minutes”. But it’s exactly what we’re doing. And a day to remember can start as crazy as this:

Nusa Penida

I didn’t wanna look down! Simply the idea made me dizzy. Every muscle was tensed as I was struggling to somehow move forward on that narrow path, a damn combination of steep and sandy, full of roots and stones meant to make it even harder to track. Sharp rocks on the left served as the only support for an endless row of people coming up. On the other side, the ones going down, including myself, had nothing to grab but a very bad line of fence made of thin brunches and separating us from a 200m deep void. This hell’s path destination was… a beach. Not just any beach, Kelingking Beach, one of the most spectacular, instagramable and praised around Bali. Getting there was not a joke and in flip-flops this seemed even more hard core. I was trying to grab anything that looked secure while also staying away of the nasty monkeys. One of them was pulling a woman’s t-shirt and yelling. Sure I like monkeys but I had to much to deal with already. I looked ahead, among the crowd, to search for any hope that the path will eventually get smoother, at one point. Someone coming up dropped the answer to all of us heading down: “You didn’t even started, it gets worse after this part…” Before I even got to process this, I felt my right foot was sliding down, reaching under the fence, the second one followed half way. The sand was moving beneath me and I felt my entire body pulled under the fence, to the edge, with my feet hanging in the air and a sense of terror grabbing my heart like sharp claws…

I instinctively grabbed the fence which was now almost above me and in a fraction I pulled myself out, back on the track. My heart was bumping and my head was starting to process the danger I was in just seconds before. The people around were too busy to observe my ordeal. For me that was more than enough to decide I didn’t care at all about that beach beneath. So adios, Kelinking Beach! Anyway I never understood how some people see Kelingking Beach in a T-Rex shape…

Back on the top, I had to admit the view was truly breathtaking: white waves drawing moving lines, separating the crystal blue of the sea from the sparkling ivory shade of the sand line. A few steps on the left, down there, in one unreachable part, where the waves were violently heating the cliffs, there they were! Black spots swimming around like some ghosts of the seas – the manta rays. 5 or 6 of them, and only a void between us. I was then the kid in front of the closed candy shop.

Kuta, 7am

After the previous day in Nusa Penida and the 1st unsuccessful attempt to get to Manta Point, I decided to skip Seminyak and sipping cocktails on the beach bars all day long for a second try to see the manta rays. Was the last chance before I headed to Ubud and further inland in Bali.

That early morning no taxi was waiting for me in front, to drive me to the jetty. I had to find one. In a place famous for partying all night long, like Kuta is, 7am is rather a time to turn on the other side and continue sleeping. Still, I saw one guy with a scooter close to the entrance gates of the beach and I ran to him. He looked as if he had just fell out of bed that second. It was about time I try the scooter taxi in Bali. The next second we were running on the large street in Denpasar, among cars and tens of other scooters. It was fun and wild as long as I ignored all the thoughts about falling over with that taxi. He was very talkative and nice and this helped a lot. He was very interested in one specific subject: if in my country sex before marriage was allowed.

In 15 minutes he dropped me to Sanur and promised to wait for me there at 5 o’clock, and go to Uluwatu where I was hoping to see the fire dance, a traditional Balinese show.

Nusa Penida again

Since this was not my 1st day here and I already started to know the prices in Bali, this time I negotiated hard. I was still new into this skill but the more I did it, the more I liked it. It took a while until I finally got a scooter taxi, one of the few left in front of the jetty after everybody have left. He was a bit older then the majority of the other guys and less pushy. He finally accepted my price as a compromise.

I had a pleasant deja-vu while running again, in the back of the scooter, on the narrow dusty streets of Nusa Penida, among villages, Balinese temples, small warung, (local places serving food). The first stop was Kelinking Beach, which I have missed the day before and in spite my fear of height at that moment, it was unbelievable. There is so much more about Nusa Penida and are so many places to see there which I found out about only after I left. All those, including the Kelinking Beach down there, are my so many reasons to go back to Bali.

But the reason I was there again were the manta rays. It was high season for that, so perfect timing. My guy drove me after again to Chrystal Bay, like the day before. I tried again to find a boat and again the only price I got was too high. No groups at that hour. I was disappointed, angry, hungry (I had nothing to eat yet that day) and above all the weather was bad, it was cloudy, looking as if was going to start raining any second. But what was the most annoying was my scooter driver. It seemed to me as if he didn’t give a damn, though he saw how much I was struggling to find a solution and how much I was trying. I presumed his attitude was because of the price I offered him, which was not cheap at all but rather more fair and not one for silly tourists. We finally left Chrystal Bay and on the way back to the jetty, I presumed, I was thinking only about how I missed this opportunity by not even trying. None of us was saying anything. I saw the shore in the front and the boats and my guess was confirmed: he was actually taking me back to the jetty, more then 2h before the scheduled boat back to Bali. Great! What a wasted day! I was so angry with him and the situation. Of course, he wanted to get rid of me to get another customer that day…. I was thinking to a 3rd day in Nusa Penida, the next day, but that meant less time in Ubud and the rest… so not a good idea.

I was surprised when he turned on the left…. I still didn’t say anything to him. We stopped on a beach nearby, with a few wooden cottages in the back where people were selling different stuff.

– Let’s try here too… he said.

When I saw 2-3 of them were selling tours, I saw a ray of light. He took me straight to a lady he knew here. Briefly, the only option to go for an hour to Manta Point was to get a boat by myself. The price, 50$. With a group in the morning was 20$, some told me even 10$. She also mentioned that on that hour and weather the chances are low and that even in the good mornings some people have barely saw one manta ray for a few seconds. I was willing to give it a try anyway. While we were talking, a guy came. He wanted some information for the next days, he was staying in Nusa Penida. I jumped in and told him if he wants, I can share the boat whit him that day too. I was hoping to share the price, of course. He answered without even looking at me that no, he was tired, he planned to do this early, the next morning. He listened after a bit to what I was talking to the lady about the price and I felt there might be a chance he changed his mind. I said, this time without the smile, just looking over my shoulder for a sec:

– It’s 25$ in case you decide to come, I go alone now anyway….shall we go? I turned to the guy with the boat.

And, the grumpy guy finally decides to come too! He really wanted to do it and he decided to try twice, in two days. I was more then happy to hear it, but I stayed cool as ice.

In a few minutes I was in a boat with 6 Spanish guys, the grumpy guy and 5 others we had to drop in Lembongan and the men with the boat. I understood from what they were talking that the grumpy guy almost got arrested for marijuana possession. Laws in Indonesia are very strict when it comes to all sort of drugs and he got away only by paying a huge fine.

After Lembongan all that was left for the 3 of us was to get to Manta Point…. The sky was dark, it was a bit windy and the sea was wavy. The air was salted and I felt cold. I had 0 envy to get into water that day. What was I thinking…. and besides all these, it was 3pm and I was truly hungry. I had all these thoughts in my mind when the boat slowed down close to a golf where I could see another boat. We headed a little further, straight to the shore which was actually a 2m perfectly straight wall, covered in moss, where the lever of the sea was growing and decreasing as the currents were moving. One turquoise spot further signalled a place with sand beneath. All the rest was dark deep blue. But there I was the first black shadow passing by, a few meters away from the wall. Then another one, and another one. The mantas were there!

– Here they are, you are lucky! Go, jump in….! The guy with the boat said.

I looked at the grumpy guy. He, like me, was analysing the place. I was afraid and so was he. The currents seen very strong there and though I am a decent to good swimmer, I didn’t know I could swim there without being smashed to the wall by the current.

We were asked if we want life jackets and fins. The grumpy guy took fins, I didn’t took anything. I was thinking that maybe I should just watch from the boat….The only thing that made me jump it was the insistence of our guide who assured us it was ok and the water was not cold.

And with my heart beating hard and quite terrified, I started one of the best experiences I was given to live: swimming with the manta rays. Nothing can describe the feeling. After minutes when I couldn’t get by breath to a regular level because of the effort to swim there, I finally got my balance and though it was maybe one of the roughest places to swim, I did it for almost an hour. An hour when the mantas came back and forth, centimetres away from me, approaching with they mouths opened, as they were feeding on the plankton, and right in the last second before the impact, they gracefully turned under me as all I could see then was black. They were huge and impressive and such gorgeous creatures. I knew it is forbidden to touch them but one of them touched me slowly while passing by. I was almost floating, making no moves so they feel safe and swim among us, enjoying their meal. We were lucky to be the only boat around for most of the time. After another one came but still we were about 5 people in the water, swimming with the mantas and practically just waiting for each of them to pass by us.

At one point the grumpy guy asked for a life jacket and asked me if I need one too.

– huhhh…It’s hard swimming here…. I said I was ok and prefer swim freely. I guess this was the moment when he finally started to see me with different eyes because after that se kept call me “sister” and we became friends. After all, we shared a magic moment together and our eyes were shining.

Our guide took us photos and was in charge with filming with my camera. I was the last to get back on the boat, after taking one last look to the black beauties in the water. Only this time I needed help, my body was so tired and my muscles ware not responding to my commands, I barely managed to bet on the first step and Jonas pulled me up in the boat.

We left leaving the mantas to continue their feast. We all 3 made a cry of joy as we left. We really did it and according to our guide this was a rare moment where there were no boats around and so many mantas in the same place, swimming around. I already know that nature offers moments like this only when she wants so. But when they happen, magic happen.

As we arrived back to were we started, the lady and my scooter driver came running toward us to the boat as if they knew we had great news! I jumped on the beach and run to hug the lady and then to my driver to whom I didn’t have words good enough to thank him.

The last to hug was Jonas. He gave me his number, (he had no social media accounts), and a few weeks after I send him the photos and videos with us and the mantas. He asked me how I was doing and ended with “Thank you, sister!”

My day was not over. After water, fire was following. When back in Sanur, my scooter driver in Bali was waiting for me and for about 45 minutes we drove 60/h, on the back of its scooter, to Uluwatu temple. I still thank God I have survived that race but since I am alive I can say I am grateful for that adrenaline dose.

We arrived late in Uluwatu and find our way among the monkeys in the park, these ones were big and more aggressive then the ones in Nusa Penida. Dancers in colourful costumes were lighting the night and sparks were reaching high in the air. The cowed was as hypnotised in front of this dance with fire as the main performer. Far in the horizon, the black shape of the Uluwatu temple was splitting the red sky in two. The sunset was over, the night was gaining.

After another crazy hour drive, among cars and now hundreds of scooters, we arrived back to Kuta. I changed some money, I avoided being scammed at the money exchange with a classic trick in Bali and I finally had some food for that day, in a place recommended by my driver, Bamboo Corner. And so I was introduced to my first chicken satay with peanut sauce and gado-gado. It was so delicious and so spicy and I still dream about going back to that place and order the same thing 3 days in a row. And the price… around 5 euro, two meals + beer.

I soo love Bali!

Next: Ubud, Bali