Black Sand and Bananas

By Elizabeth Johnstone

In January 2017, we spent a week in La Palma on a Thomson package holiday. La Palma is one of the lesser known Canary Islands. It has chosen to remain low-key, restricting the construction of high-rise holiday developments.  We found it to be charming and full of interest.  We travelled by train to Gatwick airport from our home in Hertfordshire, spending the night in the clean and cosy Premier Inn before our punctual morning flight.  Returning was less straightforward.  A forecast of snow in the London area held flights on runways all over Europe. Our plane stood on the tarmac for nearly two hours, so we were too late for our scheduled train journey home.  There was no room at the Premier Inn so we ended up using a different train company and an expensive taxi for the last leg.

But let us gloss over such unpleasantness.  We stayed at the Hacienda San Jorge in the village of Los Cancajos, a short drive from the airport and only a couple of miles from the island’s capital, Santa Cruz.  Our “room” was effectively a two-room apartment with double aspect over pool and ocean.  The accommodation blocks are set in beautiful gardens of which the hotel is so proud that guided tours are arranged.  We arrived in the evening of 5 January, as did the Three Kings en route to Bethlehem.  To clarify: Spanish Christmas is traditionally on 6 January, when Spanish children receive presents brought by the Magi.  These days, they are quite happy to receive presents on 25 December as well, but it meant for us that 6 January was a public holiday.

Los Cancajos has several attractive coves with full beach facilities, although you have to accept that they have black, volcanic sand. As I had booked bed and breakfast, we worked our way through the local restaurants.  I adore fish restaurants – my favourite source of protein, and someone else deals with the fins and scales – and they did not disappoint.  A local speciality is papas arrugadas, or “wrinkly potatoes”, cooked in their jackets in heavily salted water and extremely tasty as a result. And the native dwarf banana was well in evidence.
We took a local bus into Santa Cruz, packed like sardines after pickups outside the principal hotels.  The island’s capital has considerable charm, a fact not lost on the cruise companies who dock their leviathans several times a week.  The islanders shrug, take the money and are grateful that the visitors return to their cruise ships at the end of the day.  The city’s flower-bedecked balconies are a great photo opportunity, as is the replica of Columbus’ Santa Maria, paid for by returning emigrés.

Our first excursion was a day trip around the eastern side of the island.  We visited a splendid village house and a spectacular viewpoint dominated by a statue of a shepherd “vaulting”.  After minuscule samples at a rum distillery, we enjoyed lunch in a picturesque village where I was amazed to see flowerbeds planted up with poinsettias.  Like so many of us, I have never nurtured poinsettias more than a couple of weeks after Christmas.  They are everywhere in municipal planting in La Palma and can even be seen as tall, spindly bushes out in the wild.  Banana plantations cover much of the island and there are 7,000 banana farmers.  We were bombarded with facts about their life cycle and economic importance.  Our final stop was the cool, dank rain forest of Los Tilos, kept moist not by rain but by condensation from the mountain tops.

Our second excursion headed to the 2,400m high Roque de los Muchachos and its observatories.  La Palma is the site of several world-class telescopes, including our own Isaac Newton Group.  The site is very highly situated and enjoys low atmospheric and light pollution. It is second only to Hawaii as a pre-eminent astronomical observation site in the northern hemisphere.  The restrictions on tourist development are to protect the observatories and the revenue stream they generate.  After other scenic stops, the trip concluded with a view into the caldera, or extinct volcanic centre, of the island’s mountains. 

La Palma is the most westerly of the Canary Islands and so most exposed to the Atlantic and its changeable weather.  We wore shorts most days, but it was chilly by the evening.  At times, it was warm and sunny enough for the beach but it drizzled on occasion.  As you might expect, in January it was a destination for the more mature travellers, most of whom were Germans. Unlike its larger neighbours, La Palma does not depend on tourism.  Agriculture is more important. 

La Palma is a delightful destination. If you are a banana enthusiast, it is a must!  Although a steep volcanic island, La Palma’s extensive terraced cultivation means that a huge area is given over to banana plantations.  There are some 7,000 banana farmers on the island.  Apparently, it is a relatively easy fruit to manage. It only requires simple tools although there is the laborious process of trimming the blossoming ends off each individual banana as well as managing pests.  But several crops can be grown in a year and clever crop rotation ensures that the farmer is not overwhelmed during one intensive harvest season.

As the banana plant has no woody tissue, it is technically a herb.  It is also a feminist fruit! Only female plants are involved.  There is no male input.  If you look at a typical banana plant, there is usually an ancient stump, a vigorous main shoot and a new side shoot i.e. a decayed “grandmother”, an active “mother” and an up-and-coming “daughter”.  It is almost impossible to acquire banana plantations other than by inheritance or marriage.  A banana heiress is the most desirable girl on the island!•

 First published in VISA 132 (April 2017)

Urban Baker's Dozen (part I)

By David Gourley

Frankfurt ('Mainhatten')

Back in the eighties I had the idea that I would like to do a rail trip around Germany.  For various reasons it was not a practical proposition but when, a couple of years ago, I retired, I resurrected the idea.  Or at least thought about doing so.  The proposed trip was not really Cathy’s thing and in any case she was still working.  But she was keen that I go ahead and fulfil my ambition - and, no, it’s not because she wanted to get rid of me!  She urged me to stop thinking about the trip and actually go ahead and do it.

Whilst we did not both go on the trip, we did share an enjoyable afternoon booking it on the internet – something we couldn’t have done in the eighties.  The obvious choice of ticket would have been a German Rail Pass but in fact a Eurail Pass was the better option for it provided greater flexibility: one could use it on ten days, not necessarily consecutive, over the period of a month.  Pushing the boat out a bit, I got a first-class pass.  I realized that there was an opportunity cost if I confined its use to just one country.  So it did occur to me as I stood on Munich Station that I could, with my ticket, be going to Prague or Budapest or south into Italy.  But the ticket was the means to my end, a rail trip around Germany.

Next we booked stays in five hotels – I am not, I’m afraid, the kind of laidback or adventurous person who is happy to arrive in a city without knowing where they are going to stay that night.  The journey was from south to north through the centre of the country.  Only once did I venture west of the Rhine (but a few years previously we had done a Rhine Cruise, VISA 103-4).  And there was one foray into the former East, something else that wouldn’t have been possible, or at any rate would have been difficult, in the eighties since the Berlin Wall didn’t come down until the very end of that decade.  Berlin itself was not on my itinerary.  We had been there (VISA 89) and would like to go back, but it would require a fair bit of time to do it justice and I wanted to get around more.  I put together an itinerary, using Deutsche Bahn timetables, which gave a mix of time in my chosen five cities and rail trips to other cities.  I found the timetables to be very reliable so almost everything went to plan.  Finally we booked flights. 

I had three nights in Munich, as distinct from two elsewhere.  There is an S-bahn link from the airport direct to the Hauptbahnhof (main station) and my hotel was easily found, so near the station that it is virtually on the station.  I had the bright idea of using my pass on the S-bahn where it would have been accepted.  Cathy pointed out that I would thus be doing myself out of one of my ten days of more extensive travel.  My hotel was not the best of this trip, but it was friendly and, for the duration of one’s stay, gives one a complimentary travel pass for the city’s excellent transport system: buses, trams, S-bahn and U-bahn (metro). 

We had been to Munich a number of years previously, when our daughter had a short-term work posting there.  We had packed quite a lot into just a weekend, including a performance of the opera and a trip out to Neuschwanstein, the fairytale castle that inspired Disney, also taking in the historic city of Augsburg.  The castle was one of those built by supposedly “mad” King Ludwig who was deposed and, some believe, murdered by the Bavarian state.  But today Bavarians are surely grateful to him, given all the revenue from tourists flocking to see his castles. 

Munich is a handsome city.  The feel, I would say, is more Central than West European.  It is the capital of Bavaria, which in the nineteenth century was not quite sure that it wanted to be part of a united Germany and to this day maintains a strong sense of independence.

On my first evening there was time before dinner for a quick stroll into the centre.  Here, as in other German cities, the central area is a safe environment which is largely pedestrianized, but there were a couple of minor annoyances.  Firstly, it was necessary, on the way in from my hotel, to cross a busy main road and the wait could seem interminable.  Traffic, here and elsewhere in Germany, is allowed to pass through red lights if there are no pedestrians but the reverse doesn’t apply.  So one waits and waits and, even when the light does at last go green, one waits a bit longer since it seems to be not the done thing immediately to set forth.  Secondly there are more cyclists than back home, above all in Munich.  Yes, I know I should be applauding that since cycling is a healthy and very green form of transport.  And people were riding in responsible manner: no sign of any ‘lycra louts’.  Even so, I did in places feel a bit overwhelmed by the number of cyclists, with the pathway seemingly belonging more to them than to pedestrians. 

I noted on the first evening that one of the two towers of the beautiful main church, the Frauenkirche, was scaffolded up.  I had been intending that, as on my previous visit, I would go up to the top so hoped that it was the unscaffolded tower that was open to the public. 

The next two days followed my normal pattern of trips out of the city, followed by time in the city.  In Munich tram 19, which link the Hauptbahnhof, and thus my hotel, to the Ostbahnhof (or East Station), is a good way of seeing the city centre.  I also did some exploring on foot including a long stroll to the extensive English Garden, so named from the type of landscaping, reminiscent of ‘Capability’ Brown.  Here, for the first time, I came across a phenomenon not to my knowledge found in Britain: ‘love-locks’ or padlocks that can weigh down railings on bridges, romantic but considered by authorities to be something of a nuisance.

There were poignant reminders of World War II on my stroll to the Garden.  The Bürgersaalkirche contains the shrine to Pater Rupert Mayer who was an opponent of the Nazi regime and was canonized by Pope John Paul II in 1987.  He survived the war, but died of a stroke a few months later.  In the vicinity of the Bavarian Chancellery is a memorial to the White Rose, the Munich-based anti-Nazi group.  Sadly most of its members were executed but one member, Traute Lafrenz, is alive still, having emigrated after the war to the United States.  The White Rose looked forward to a “New Europe”, the bases of which would be “freedom of speech, freedom of religion, the protection of individual citizens from the arbitrary will of criminal regimes of violence”.  Inconceivable though it might have seemed at that time, just such a Europe was to come into being a few years later, thanks to far-sighted statesmen in their own country and elsewhere.  It is a Europe from which Britain, foolishly in my view, has decided to turn its back.

A dilemma posed itself on this, the first of my ten days of rail travel.  On double-decker trains I like to sit on the upper deck but on this train it was for second-class passengers, whereas my pass entitled me to first-class travel.  I stuck to first but wasn’t sure this was the right choice.  Odd that on the Continent trains, but not buses, are double-deck, whereas in the UK it’s the other way round.  In fact there once were double-deck trains in the UK.  When I first started work in the sixties, I sometimes commuted to and from London in such a train, one of just two. They ran on the lines out to Dartford, through the area where I lived at that time.  They were regarded as a failed experiment, but were retained for their working lives.

It was pleasant to sit back in my carriage, even if it was lower deck, and enjoy the Bavarian countryside.  Bavaria, I reflected, is a region which has everything, bar a sea coast: lakes, mountains, beautiful countryside, attractive towns and villages, a high standard of living, low unemployment...  what’s not to like?

Regensburg is located on the Danube and its Old Town is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  It has been described as “Italy’s northernmost city”.   I made the discovery that Galerie Kaufhof, a nationwide chain of department stores, provides good buffet lunches at a reasonable price.  One invariably ascends to the fourth floor, passing the ladieswear and menswear floors.   Here I photographed my plate of chilli con carne.  I wouldn’t normally do such a thing but the reason here was the juxtaposition: this was an al fresco area overlooked by the city’s beautiful spires. 

I wandered through the Old Town, then across what is perhaps the city’s most iconic feature, the twelfth century Stone Bridge, which crosses the Danube.  Unfortunately it was being renovated so there was a lot of scaffolding and for most of the way across one had to use a temporary construction.  I wasn’t having much luck in this regard for, yes, back in Munich the scaffolded tower in the Frauenkirche was the one that is normally open to the public (one could still of course go inside the church).  The walk across the bridge was still worthwhile given the wonderful view back to the Old Town.  Located by the bridge in the Old Town is the historic Sausage Kitchen.  It purports to be the oldest continuously open public restaurant in the world.

My next journey took me out of Bavaria, into Baden-Württemberg and on to its capital, Stuttgart.  At its station there is a tower which one can ascend for free.  From here it is evident that, unlike Munich, this is not an especially beautiful city.  It is by no means an unpleasant city but after World War II, its centre was rebuilt in modern, functional style, apparent in Königstrasse, the main thoroughfare which runs through the centre from the station.

I called in at the tourist office.  Naturally enough local authorities like to blow their trumpets and the city guide eulogizes the main square, the Schlossplatz, claiming it to be “one of Europe’s most beautiful squares”.  Well, I’ve been fortunate enough to visit St Mark’s Square in Venice, Old Town Square in Prague and Grande Place in Brussels and I’m sorry to say to Stuttgarters that their square, pleasant though it might be, does not begin to compare.  Scattered around are a few historic buildings and some parkland.  I enjoyed my time in Stuttgart but soon concluded that the remainder of my day would be better spent seeing more of Munich. 

To get back to the Hauptbahnhof I used the U-bahn.  I was impressed that quite a few cities in Germany have metros: I had used the one in Munich and was also to use those in Frankfurt and in Hanover.  In Britain, by contrast, the only metros outside London are the circular line in Glasgow and the innovative Tyneside Metro in Newcastle.   I think that in Germany cities generally have more power and influence than their British counterparts and, as a result, have greater civic consciousness.   This might be something to do with geopolitics, for the capital of West Germany was a fairly small city, Bonn.  Even though Berlin has resumed its rightful place as capital of a united Germany, I don’t think the other big cities are going to bend the knee any time soon.  England by contrast tends to be fairly ‘Londoncentric’ – something I think that is increasingly recognized, resulting in the proposals for a ‘Northern Powerhouse’. 

I chose the time of my train carefully.  Some trains would simply have repeated yesterday’s journey to Stuttgart and carried on from there.  I wanted to see new territory, so got a train that went north to Nuremberg, then west to Frankfurt.  In Würzburg I was impressed that there were hillside vineyards very close by.  

Ominously, a weather map at Munich Station showed bright sunshine over Bavaria and rain over the rest of Germany.  Sure enough it started to rain when we reached Aschaffenburg.  This city is still in Bavaria, but far closer to Frankfurt than Munich; it is considered by Lonely Planet to be “in style terms more Hessian than Bavarian”.  Fortunately it was dry again by the time I got to Frankfurt and rain was not to give me too much trouble in coming days. 

This was the nicest of my five stays.  My hotel was the Intercontinental, a short walk from the station.  The friendly receptionist offered me a pass that gave use of the top floor lounge for €50 for a 24-hour period.  Usually one doesn’t, as an ordinary client, get a sniff of a hotel lounge.  The deal included complimentary food and drink, including beer or wine.  Given that breakfast, not here included, was over €30, it was a no-brainer.  I enjoyed a light lunch in the lounge, and a good dinner.

The view from my fourteenth floor room was one of my best ever.  I looked straight out at the city’s skyscrapers.  These are an unusual feature for a German, indeed for a Continental European, city and they have earned Frankfurt the sobriquet “Mainhatten”.  I walked into the city.  This entailed a pleasant stroll along the Main.  I crossed over the river to the south side then re-crossed later on using one of the two old pedestrian bridges.  From there it was a short distance to the Old Town, centred on Römerplatz, an area that was lovingly rebuilt after the World War II bombing.  I was pleased that despite my advancing years – I was now heading into my late sixties – I was able without difficulty to ascend the tower of the Cathedral, 328 steps. 

I had wondered whether “Mainhatten” would be a rather cold sort of place, but not so at all.  This is an attractive, cultured and vibrant city that oozes prosperity.  It is also a historic city, its modernity notwithstanding.  In former times it was the place where the kings and emperors of the Holy Roman Empire (which was not, it has been said, holy or Roman or an empire) were crowned.  The Empire, a collection of numerous independent states, included most of present-day Germany so it might be said that Frankfurt was the unofficial German capital.  Immediately after World War II, it was the putative capital of West Germany.  It seemed the obvious choice, roughly in the middle of the country, on the Main so not in South or North Germany, in historic terms the true divide between Germans, rather than the artificial East-West split resulting from the Cold War.  But the wily Konrad Adenauer, the first Chancellor of West Germany, wanted the capital to appear makeshift since he didn’t want it to be thought that the division of Germany was permanent.  Frankfurt, he feared, would settle down to the role too comfortably.  Hence the choice of a much smaller city, Bonn.  Today Frankfurt doesn’t get to be the capital of anything: it is by far the largest town in the Land of Hesse but the kudos of being its capital goes to Wiesbaden.  But, as it houses the HQ of the European Central Bank, it might be regarded as the financial capital of Europe. 

I wandered on into the financial district though not as far as the towers of “Mainhatten”.  The Stock Exchange is in a surprisingly old building.  There is a plaque here commemorating Ludwig Erhard, the Finance Minister who presided over West Germany’s Wirtschaftswunder or Economic Miracle.  He succeeded Adenauer as Federal Chancellor but it is thought that he was far less happy in that role.

With dinner that night I had a glass of cider.  I was surprised to find that this is a Frankfurt speciality since, as I have found to my chagrin, cider isn’t generally available on the Continent.  It wasn’t anything like cider back home: something of an acquired taste but, given time, I might have acquired it.

First  Published in VISA 131 (February 2017)

Before the Invasion

By Maxine Bates

My fellow Travel SIG member Helen and I visited Cuba some months ago, but it seems fitting that I finally find time to write about our trip as Fidel Castro dies. We had wanted to see more than the capital and a beach resort so opted for an eight day tour staying in four places and using casas as accommodation. These are rather like English B&Bs so we stayed with local families rather than in hotels. Some were better than others!  Upon arrival in Havana – via Madrid - we were picked up from the airport late at night and taken to Casa Dalia. Let’s just say we would never have found it on our own as located on a small street through a narrow door and up several flights of steep stairs. The owners only spoke Spanish, so there was a lot of pantomiming at breakfast the following morning!

Our first day was at leisure before meeting up with the rest of the tour group for dinner so we opted to do the hop on/off bus tour which covered most of the city. We alighted in Republic Square where two large buildings displayed the faces of Fidel Castro and Che Guevara. We also spent time in the Christopher Columbus cemetery which is the third largest cemetery in the world and largest in South/Central America. We were offered a tour but declined and wandered around on our own having enquired about the highlights. They included a monument to firefighters and one for infertile women. We also saw a funeral cortege arrive during our visit. The US embassy was pointed out on the bus tour, but you probably wouldn’t know it was there otherwise. The Capitol building is based on the one in Washington DC and is surrounded by bright coloured old American cars ready to transport tourists around the capital. We found the Bacardi building where you pay a small free to ride in the elevator for views over the city. Taking a break from the heat we found Sloppy Joe’s. The bar was founded in 1917 and became our favourite as a great place to sip the Cuban cocktails of mojitos and Cuba libres.

Having met the rest of our small tour group, mostly from Australia and New Zealand, the following morning we set off for Playa Girón, otherwise known as Bay Of Pigs. This was the site of the infamous failed invasion of Cuba and now home to a museum. Then onward to the city of Cienfuegos where the architecture is heavily influenced by the French migrants who settled there in the 19th century with many buildings having been given UNESCO world heritage status. “Cienfuegos is the city I like the best,” wrote Beni More, one of Cuba’s most important musicians in the first half of the 20th century and who now has a statue on the Prado, one of the wide avenues. I had wanted to visit the Palacio De Valle and was delighted when our tour guide took us there for a free cocktail on their roof terrace accompanied by live music. Our accommodation in Cienfuegos was the lovely Ines Maria where breakfast included cereal, fruit, sausages, omelettes, cucumber, cheese and bread with coffee taken on the roof terrace. A new cruise terminal is being constructed in the city so it may not remain quite as sleepy for much longer.

En route to Trinidad, we stopped in Santa Clara which is the final resting place of Che Guevara, even though he actually spent the end of his life in Bolivia. It was in Santa Clara that Che Guevara and his rebels successfully derailed a military train carrying weapons and ammunition to be used against Fidel Castro, an act  credited with winning the revolution. The city of Trinidad was founded in 1514 and is filled with cobbled streets – do not attempt to walk in anything other than the flattest shoes! – and colourful houses. The shops were quirky, selling such items as handbags made from ring pulls - a case of waste not, want not! Although very pretty it is decidedly third world as we lost both water and electricity supply at some points during our two night stay at Hostal Rosita. Not good in sweltering temperatures when you need cold showers and air con! The evening entertainment was a traditional buffet dinner followed by group salsa dancing lesson with the option to visit The Music House for live music later. This venue turned out to be outdoor seating on concrete steps surrounding a stage.  As we started getting bitten by insects, we didn’t stay long!   

The area around Trinidad was once the heart of Cuba’s sugar industry and a lot of sugar cane is still processed here. We visited an old mill and sugar plantation and hiked through Parque El Cubano to a lovely waterfall. Unfortunately by the time we reached Playa Ancon, said to be one of Cuba’s best beaches, it started raining so it was a very quick dip before a cocktail in a coconut shell. La canchanchara is the famous local drink from Trinidad made with rum, honey and lemon. More like a dessert than a drink!  Our final destination was Vinales where we stayed at Casa Alvy Y Ada.  After a boat ride through the Cuevas Del Indio and a walk through the Slave Cave we visited a tobacco plantation including a demonstration of cigar rolling. The afternoon was at leisure so we found a tapas bar for lunch washed down with pina colada, where we were presented with a full size bottle of rum to add our own alcohol. I can’t ever imagine that happening in the UK! We then visited Vinales botanical gardens where, for a small donation, we were given a guide who explained the fruits and flowers and trees.  We said goodbye to our driver and guide and boarded the equivalent of a National Express coach back to Havana for my personal highlight of the tour, a ride in one of the old American cars around the capital. As our group had three cars it became somewhat of a race with horns tooting and all of us waving our arms in the air. Great fun! On our final day in Havana we visited Plaza Vieja’s camera obscura, saw the room where Ernest Hemingway stayed for six years in Hotel Ambos Mundos and took a tour of the Havana Club rum factory, rounded off with a strong Cuba libre in their bar. Too many of those and we could have been refused boarding!

I’m glad I visited Cuba before the Americans descend en masse because the island is going to change. Whether that makes things better or worse remains to be seen. And I’m glad I saw more of the island than just Havana and a beach. But would I return? Probably not as it was a bit ‘rough and ready’ and very strange having no internet access or phone signal and not seeing any Western branded products. If you’re thinking of visiting the real Cuba… go now before it changes forever.

First published in VISA 132 (April 2017)