Author Archives: WolfeStreetTravel
Protected: Christmas 2022 – Baltics and Back to the Netherlands: Haarlem
Christmas 2022 – Baltics and Back to the Netherlands: Tallinn
After a couple of days in Haarlem, we headed to the first of our actual Baltic destinations: Estonia and its capital city of Tallinn. We were hoping for snow, and we got some! (Initially, anyway.)
Tallinn’s main square and Christmas Market on our first evening – perfect!
But the next day (and throughout our stay), the snow on many of the streets and squares turned a little slushy.
Definitely more of a winter, Christmas atmosphere than Alexandria, but still. . .
Tallin’s settlement dates back thousands of years but the first fortress appeared around 1050 AD, demonstrating the importance of the town to the north Estonia region.
As a trading town on the Baltic coast, the town (then known as Reval) became a member of the Hanseatic League in 1285. We previously visited the Hanseatic towns of Lübeck and Hamburg in Germany and Bergen, Norway. (Riga, Latvia, another Hanseatic town, would be our next stop on this trip. Apparently, Berlin, Cologne, and Krakow also were Hanseatic towns due to the river system, but we have decided to ignore this because they’re not on the Baltic coast.)
Snow still covered some streets – very cool medieval town.
Tallinn Old Town is one of the best-preserved medieval cities in Europe and is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
The spire of Tallinn’s Town Hall:
The town hall was first mentioned in 1322,
but the structure actually dates back to the 1200s.
It’s the oldest surviving town hall in Europe.
At the top of the spire stands Old Thomas, first placed there in 1530.
The figure memorializes a peasant who became famous for winning a crossbow competition held by the Baltic German Elite.
The tower – and Old Thomas – was damaged in 1944 during a bomb attack during the war. A new Old Thomas went up with the repaired tower in 1952, but it was weathering too much, and the Estonians put another one up there in 1996. The 1952 Old Thomas hangs out in the Tallinn City Museum. Nice codpiece.
Viru Gate – one of the original eight gates in Tallinn’s city walls.
The first wall around Tallinn was ordered to be constructed by Queen Margaret of Denmark in 1265 (Denmark controlled northern Estonia from the early 13th century until 1346, when the Danish king sold it to the Teutonic Knights).
Fully taking shape during the next three centuries, Tallinn’s city wall was one of the strongest defense systems in Northern Europe at the time.
Plus, there are chunks that are still intact and walkable (that’s Tower behind Monks in the background)
Not a lot of snow, but Tallinn proved to be pretty atmospherically wintery, nonetheless:
Located across town, we found Tallinn’s Great Coastal Gate, first mentioned in 1359:
The Great Coastal Gate was the most important gate when Tallinn was a Hanseatic town because it protected the main route for traffic between the port and the market square.
Above the gate stands an impressive dolomite carving bearing Tallinn’s coat of arms (from 1529):
Protecting the Great Coastal Gate? FAT MARGARET! Dating from the early 16th century, Fat Margaret not only served as a fortification against invaders of the town’s port but also a military monstrosity to impress visitors arriving by sea.
Michelin 2* dining experience at 180 Degrees:
Pretty good perch at the Chef’s Table
where we could watch all the cooking and prep work for multiple courses.
Heading up the next morning to Toompea, Tallinn’s central hill district, which is home to. . .
Estonia’s Parliament, the Riigikogu:
And also the Orthodox Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, built in the late 19th century:
Crests for local noble families along one wall:
Because the church was built when Estonia was part of the former Russian Empire, and because it represents Russian Orthodoxy, and because the Estonians are outraged by Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, there’s a movement in Tallinn to raze it and replace it with a park.
Back through the walls:
To yet another stretch of Tallinn’s extant city wall. Here, we have Kiek in de Kok (“Peek into the Kitchen”) on the left, an artillery tower so named because the garrison could see into the kitchens of the nearby houses; and Maiden’s Tower on the right.
And a creepy, faceless monk statue perched on one segment of the wall. This is one of three faceless monks in this area; this one is “Observing Monk.”
More city wall-and-towers action:
Loewenschede Tower:
Enough with the tower names; here’s a buttload of towers. Definitely a cool, preserved medieval town.
Heading to dinner one night; one cannot escape the walls, man.
Rataskaevu Street, where the novels featuring Melchior, the 15th-century Tallinn apothecary / amateur sleuth are set (or at least where his apothecary is located). The first book – pretty good! The second – should have been tossed down that well.
Featured in the Apothecary Melchior novels are Tallinn’s medieval guilds. The Great Guild hall, dating from the very early 15th century is right off the main square. It was used as the headquarters of various merchant and artisan guilds until as recent as 1920.
Aaand, the House of the Brotherhood of Black Heads. Also featured in the Melchior novels.
Described as a social club for single merchants and other tradesmen in the Melchior books, it “was a professional association of ship owners, merchants, and foreigners dating from the 14th century.“
“The House of the Blackheads was visited by several Russian Emperors including Peter I, Paul I and Alexander I who also became honorable members the Brotherhood.“
Just some Art Nouveau architecture down the street, which was pretty cool. (But NOTHING like we’d see later in Riga.)
Toompea at night.
Tallinn’s Victory Column on Freedom Square, commemorating the Estonian War of Independence at the end of WW I.
More winter scenes from Toompea’s stretch of wall.
Next stop: Riga!
Christmas 2022 – Baltics and Back to the Netherlands: Riga
From Tallinn, Estonia, we headed slightly south to the capital of Latvia: Riga.
Although not a walled, medieval, historically preserved town like Tallinn, Riga nonetheless offered its own flavor of charm and architectural notability. Case in point, Riga’s own House of the Blackheads. As with Tallinn’s House of the Blackheads, Riga’s building housed the Brotherhood of Blackheads, a guild for unmarried merchants, shipowners, and foreigners in Riga.
Unlike Tallinn’s modest townhouse (albeit with a very cool door and lunette), Riga’s House of the Blackheads is huge and ornate. The original building erected in 1334 was the largest public building in Riga at the time.
Unfortunately that building, updated over the centuries, was bombed out of existence in 1941 during a battle between Germany and the Soviets. The Soviet government razed what was left in 1948, but it was rebuilt in the late 1990s based on extensive archeological studies.
Right around the corner from the Blackheads lies Riga’s capitol building. Very unassuming, we thought.
Riga’s Christmas market in the shadow of the Dome Cathedral was pretty great.
But some stalls were actually branded, which we’d never seen before, and gave areas of the Christmas market a commercial taint that we didn’t welcome:
Nonetheless, the overt booziness of the place was pretty cool – not just glühwein, but all sorts of booze, including – weirdly for both time and place – gin stalls.
Lots of food. . .
which had a distinct eastern Europe flair – check out the pig snout:
Or maybe it’s an entire pig submerged down there? Who knows.
Pigs a poppin’ in this place:
Riga’s Powder Tower, originally built in 1330 as part of the defensive wall system, that one was destroyed during an attack by the Swedes on the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth in 1621. (Livonia [which encompasses parts of multiple modern Baltic nations including Latvia] was a fiefdom at the time).
The current iteration dates from 1650.
Next door lies Jacob’s Barracks, built in the 18th century to house the garrison, the structure continued to be used until 1997 by various militaries as the area’s geopolitics evolved over time. The length of the barracks are now home to bars and restaurants, but the end, with its depiction of the coats of arms of Latvian towns and municipalities, was the most intriguing to us.
Portions of the old city wall running along the barracks:
The Swedish Gate – the only portal in the medieval city walls to still exist. Beyond lies Trokšņu iela (Noisy Street) which ironically is one of the quietest and most charming street in Riga now. I’m sure we walked through here and down this apparently amazing street, but we have no visible evidence of this. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Instead, here’s some pics of Riga’s mammoth Central Market.
Absolutely any variety of food one could desire is available here.
The Riga Central Market (there’s a bird’s eye view later in the post) is composed of multiple, massive, hanger-like structures and is not only the largest shopping destinations in Latvia, but one of the largest markets in Europe.
The aforementioned bird’s eye view would come courtesy of St. Peter’s Church steeple.
Built in chunks over centuries, the first St. Peters was constructed as early as 1209; then a few decades later, in the middle of the 13th century; then the early 15th century; then at the end of the 17th century. Pretty plain brick church though, much like the Scandinavian Gothic brick churches encountered in Denmark.
As with Tallinn’s cathedral, portions of the interior are adorned with local noble family coats of arms (one of which looks dangerously close to the esteemed crest of the Connells):
Something in the crypt we think? Dunno – pretty cool though.
Views from St. Peter’s steeple observation deck – pretty awesome perspective on the town.
Renaissance facades in front of the Dome Cathedral:
Another, higher view of the Powder Tower:
Riga’s Central Market hangers:
Down the street lies Riga’s Freedom Monument. A large statue of Peter the Great astride a horse once occupied this plaza, but it disappeared during WWI and the Latvians weren’t eager to replace it. Instead, the Freedom Monument was erected in its place in 1935.
Flowers are allegedly placed at the foot of the monument each day (we didn’t see any) as an act of defiance – such a gesture was punishable by deportation to Siberia during the Soviet era.
Dinner at 3 Pavāru Restorāns – definitely the dining highlight of our stay.
Riga’s Art Nouveau district on our Christmas Day walk. Riga’s period of peak prosperity happened to coincide with the Art Nouveau arts and architecture movement between 1890 and the outbreak of WWI. Although not at all unique to Riga, the town benefited from not being bombed into oblivion during WWII, resulting in a concentration of buildings in this style not seen anywhere else in Europe.
Perhaps the coolest: No. 10b, with a peacock (the symbol of art nouveau) flanked by big-ass faces.
Perfect winter weather in Riga for a Christmas visit.
On to our final stop of the trip: Amsterdam.
Protected: Christmas 2022 – Baltics and Back to the Netherlands: Amsterdam Again
Turkey and Back to Greece: Paros Part 2 – Around the Island
Although we’d spend each evening in or near Naousa, we’d field trip around the island each day to explore, hike, or swim.
Including driving up to the traditional Cyclades mountain village of Lefkes.
Which featured quite a few picturesque Greek churches.
Grabbing some lunch at Anemos Taverna above the eroded-rocky Kolympethres Beach:
White-washed Naousa in the distance:
A visit to the Monastery of St. Johns of Deti:
Which offered a pretty great, quintessentially Greek view from the roof:
And also a view to the very commercial Monastiri Beach. Typical density of many European (and especially Italian) beaches, but a little packed in for our taste.
Much more appealing to us was Ampelas Beach on the other side of the island:
Great swimming and lower key. . .
and with two amazing restaurants available for lunch.
Aspro Paros, with it’s spectacular zucchini salad (and calamari and smelt, natch):
And Blue Oyster right next door:
Everything amazingly fresh.
Including some zesty ceviche and Greek cheese:
We’d return to Ampelas Beach three times during our stay. Perfect experience each time.
Next up: the mercifully last post before we move beyond this trip and thence to the Baltics and a starkly different, winter climate.
Turkey and Back to Greece: Paros Part 3 – The Final Reckoning (Or, Parikia, a Lighthouse Hike, and the Linguistically Exact Opposite of Paros)
The final post on the Turkey and Back to Greece trip (finally!). And just in the nick of time: we’re hitting the road (and the Adriatic Sea) tomorrow, and so won’t be posting any of the other backlogged trips for a while. These are all the long trips (versus week-long trips that we responsibly posted immediately after getting back from each), and include the following:
- Christmas a few months after this trip in the Baltics (and Netherlands)
- The first post-retirement, extended trip to Italy, Malta, Normandy, and Portugal during the summer of 2023
- A month in French Polynesia and New Zealand later that year
- A month in South America in the spring of 2024
- 2.5-months on the road in New England and Canada during the summer of 2024
We’ll eventually post the detailed content on each of these trips here on WolfeStreetTravel.com; in the meantime, we’ll be posting pics in real time during two upcoming extended trips over the next 5 months @wolfestreettravel on Instagram, if you’re interested.
Back to our final post on Paros. . .
Although we chose not to stay in the largest town on the island (for reasons obvious here), we nonetheless headed to Parikia one day during our stay on Paros as a day trip.
Very cool, bustling burg. With equally cool, wooden-framed bikes to boot.
The absolute most intriguing site in town has to be the Frankish Castle.
Built by the Venetians in the 1200s on the site of the town’s ancient acropolis, the “castle” (actually the remains of a tower that was part of a castle wall) was constructed Jenga-style using the vestiges of classical temples from around the island.
Little remains of the original fortification, and nearby structures incorporate what remains into their own walls.
One of the three “Mavrogenus’ Fountains” found around town. ” Nicolaos Mavrogenus was one of the prodigal sons of Parikia, Paros Island main town in the Greek Cyclades. Missing his native Aegean and as Wallachia governor decided benefit his hometown providing a public drinking water supply [in 1777]: three beautiful marble fountains.” (From here.)
And another (we never came across the third):
Finally getting a gyro at a local place in Parikia’s port (the empty plate would soon be filled):
The Byzantine-era church complex of Panagia Ekatontapiliani (The Church with 100 Doors):
According to tradition, the church currently has 99 doors and a secret, 100th door will open when the church of Hagia Sofia in Constantinople become Orthodox Christian again.
The original church dates back to 326, during the reign of Roman Emperor Constantine, and purportedly was founded by his mother, Helene (whose sarcophagus we came across during the micronations road trip).
We think the church elders employed third graders to carve the church’s tombstones:
In the 6th century, Byzantine Emperor Justinian enhanced the church and added a dome.
Another view of the Frankish Castle as we head out of town.
The best hike we experienced on the island took us to the Korakas Cape Lighthouse at the northwest tip of the island.
Another field trip, this time a short ferry ride to the polar opposite of the island of Paros: Antiparos (it’s just a smaller island than Paros).
With a really picturesque main town:
Bye, Antiparos.
And bye, Paros, and Cappadocia, and Istanbul. Trip posts complete!
Turkey and Back to Greece: Paros Part 1 – Naousa
This, at long last, represents the final tranche of posts for our September 2022 Turkey and Greece trip: a week on the Greek island of Paros in the Cyclades archipelago.
The Turkey and Back to Greece trip, as originally planned, was to be our first post-retirement travel excursion. The second WolfeStreetTraveler would retire in mid-August 2022 (the first had retired the previous year), and then we’d immediately spend a full month on the road – leaving in late August and returning in late September. After a week in Turkey, we’d spend 3 weeks island hopping in the Cyclades:
- Paros for 1 week
- Milos for 4 days
- Folegandros for 3 days
- Naxos for 1 week
But a perpetually problematic NOAA weather forecasting supercomputing support contract in the otherwise optimally operating Science & Engineering business run by on of the WolfeStreetTravelers had other plans. The recalcitrant actions of the most uncooperative data center and the most incompetent supercomputing vendor to ever play a role in weather forecasting would require, it turns out, another 6 months to address. So that WolfeStreetTraveler postponed retirement, canceled the Milos / Folegandros / Naxos legs of the trip (for which both the ferry fares and the hotel / AirBnB reservations were refundable, which was a relief), enjoyed the remaining first legs of the trip, then returned to work to dig in for another half year to pound on pernicious program problems.
But that’s okay – a week in Paros was unbelievably great. And we’d get to the other Cyclades islands later (in fact, they were supposed to comprise the second half of a 6-week trip planned later this year, but earthquakes in the area scared us off, so we’re hitting Mallorca and Andalusia instead, which should be pretty great, too). We’ll get back to the remaining Cyclades soon enough.
In Paros, we based ourselves in the town of Naousa at the north end of the island. Although the main city and ferry port on the island, Parika, held some appeal, our research suggested that Naousa offered more of what we were looking for; and we could always day trip to Parika (which we did).
And Naousa was absolutely perfect for us:
Although definitely a tourist town, Naousa still operated as a working fishing port
where the catch of the day would appear on your table for lunch and dinner.
For the entire week, we’d begin each evening with sunset cocktails on the water, then wander into town to find dinner. The best of these, which we’d patronize three evenings during our stay, was called – fittingly enough – Come Back. So we did. Again and again.
And for obvious reasons.
Sunset in Naousa from the Come Back beach:
And thence, into Naousa for some seafood.
Pretty great weather – mostly – during out stay. We did have a day and a half of super windy weather that was part of the normal weather cycle in the Cyclades, but that also was strong enough that it curtailed some activities.
Fishing wasn’t one of them.
Our time on Paros also encompassed our anniversary, which was great.
Pretty good AirBnB digs.
Another evening, another round (or three) of cocktails at Come Back.
And another sunset. Pretty good routine.
A break from fish with some moussaka.
One of the most photographed spots in Naousa, based on our Instagram feed before the trip. Colorful, yes, but empty.
And then night falls:
Another sunset, and our second favorite cocktail spot.
Maybe they should name this place “Also Come Back Here.”
Full moon over Naousa.
Turkey and Back to Greece: Cappadocia Part 6 (the Final One) – Göreme Cave Monastery
As you may have discerned from the flurry of recent (but paradoxically still dated) posts on a trip back in September 2022, we’re trying to get our act together and get WolfeStreetTravel.com up to date. (@wolfestreetravel on Instagram is always current, for what it’s worth, inasmuch as we post there in real time during our travels.)
With that context, this post mercifully is our last one on the Cappadocia leg of the Turkey / Greece trip, before we pivot to the trip’s second leg in Greece. (We’re trying to address the entirety of the remainder of this trip before we take off soon for another long jaunt in Europe, when where posting will once again cease for a while. Upon our return we’ll get to the other four backlogged trips (which will have grown to five by then).)
Our flight departing Cappadocia for Athens took off in the afternoon, so we spent the morning of our last day wandering through the Göreme Cave Monastery complex down the road from our base town. Founded in the 4th century on the instruction of Saint Basil of Caesarea, this complex of monasteries, nunneries, churches, and chapels existed for a thousand years. It was far and away the coolest of the troglodyte settlements we visited in Cappadocia for reasons that will immediately become apparent.
There were so many structures here to appreciate – predominantly cave churches – that it became a little overwhelming to take everything in. One delineation of cave church decoration helped us contextualize things, though: did the cave feature rudimentary symbols and patterns (representative of the iconoclastic era) or were the walls and ceiling drenched in richly illustrated frescos of saints and other religious themes that characterized the post-iconoclastic era? The former represented an era in the 8th and 9th centuries, when while the Byzantine church found religious images to be idolatrous, and the latter were created later, when the iconophiles won out in arguing that these depictions were acceptable – and even desirable – for enlightening the illiterate (similar to western European medieval church frescos and, later, stained windows).
The first church we encountered (which we forgot to identify for later review) exemplified the iconoclastic style:
Just red ochre symbols and patterns:
But that was just the beginning.
St. Barbara
The iconoclastic style also adorned the raw rock walls of this much more ornately decorated cave church.
Decorated almost entirely in red ochre geometric designs and religious symbols, every soffit, cornice, and pendentive (triangles supporting the domes) are embellished.
These mostly are manifested as triangles, checks, lightning-bolt-looking things, and Maltese crosses.
Oh – and there’s a boxing pheasant on one end of a barrel vault in St. Barbara? Or something? Definitely the most amusing yet mysterious of the images.
Below the boxing pheasant, of course, is a very post-iconoclastic images of Saint George and Saint Theodore. Not sure what to say about this juxtaposition.
Whether iconoclastic symbols or lush paintings, we found these churches to be so compelling because of the incredible age of the art and the palpable presence of everything so present with you, where you could reach out and touch a symbol that a monk applied to an arch more than a millennium ago.
Our hometown is old and, with a founding date of 1749, we pass by centuries’ old buildings and artifacts every day. Hell, our house is 100 years old. But St. Barbara dates to ~1100 (don’t ask how to reconcile how this falls after the iconoclast era), and being so casually close to religious art that old and yet so accessible elicited a pretty palpably powerful feeling of awe.
Dark Church
At the opposite end of the spectrum is the foreboding-sounding “Dark Church” (so named not for serving as the unholy site of arcane acts and an upside down cross, but because the only illumination of the church results from a small window in the church’s narthex). As a result of this paucity of sunlight, the paintings inside have been remarkably preserved.
The Dark Church definitely had the most ornate exterior. While the other churches’ exteriors were simply the rocky hillside, the Dark Church exterior featured a carved façade, including a series of keyhole niches with Greek crosses.
The entrance:
Very different interior from the iconoclastic churches!
The central dome features the very Byzantine Christ Pantocrator image and the four archangels (Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and Azrael) occupy the four small domes surrounding it.
These paintings all date from the latter half of the 11th century.
Amazing that this work from 1100 years ago still remains, unaltered, to appreciate:
Snake Church
Although the Snake Church clearly demonstrates full illustrations representative of the post-iconoclasm period, it nonetheless also represents something of a transition in its liberal use of simple drawings and symbols, including on the outside of the cave church:
“The mural painting on the left has five figures—St. Onesimus standing in a red robe, Saints George and Theodore on horseback, and Saints Constantine and Helen holding the True Cross.
The figure nearest the door is St. Onesimus, mentioned in the New Testament letter Philemon. He was a first-century slave who escaped from his master in Colossae (near modern Pamukale/Denizli). As Onesimus was hiding in Rome, he encountered the apostle Paul and became a Christian. To restore their relationship, Paul sent Onesimus back to his master Philemon (who happened to be Paul’s friend), requesting forgiveness. According to church tradition, Onesimus was later martyred, as symbolized by the white cross that he holds.” (From here.)
Inside, along one side of the nave, can be found the reason behind the name: an image of Saint George and Saint Theodore slaying a dragon, here depicted as a snake (you can make out the scaly body on the right bottom and the tail on the left, but there’s not a lot left to make out of the head):
More of the mix of iconoclastic and post-iconoclastic imagery on the barrel-vaulted ceiling of the nave.
At the far end, a rudimentary apse with Jebus on the lunette above:
And a cool checkerboard pattern above the entrance:
St. Basil’s Chapel
“The left wall has two panel icons. The tall image on the left is St. Basil the Great, the famed bishop of Caesarea (d. 379 AD) who defended Nicene Orthodoxy and pioneered Byzantine monasticism.
The larger square image is St. Theodore on a red horse, spearing a snake. His clothing mimics Roman military attire, but has subtle Persian designs. Theodore Stratelates (“The General”) was martyred in 319 AD in Pontus (northern Turkey).” (From here.)
“The large, square icon is St. George riding a white horse. He was a Roman officer from Cappadocia who died in the early 300’s, in Nicomedia (the first capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, modern Izmit).” (From here.)
The coolest aspects of St. Basil’s though had to be the tombs. In a cave. (Cave graves, if you will.) The acrosolium (arched recess with grave) below was part of the original church design:
However, twelve more were later carved into the stone floor of the church – adults in the middle and infants on the side:
The occupants of the cave graves are unknown. This one was reminiscent of the crystal skeleton in the ATM cave in Belize.
On our way out, a familiar sight over the valley:
Cappadocia complete! From here, we hightailed it back to our place in Göreme, grabbed our luggage, and headed to the airport – and thence to the Greek Cyclades island of Paros.
Turkey and Back to Greece: Cappadocia Part 5 – A Parade of Balloons
We hopped into a balloon our first morning in Cappadocia, which was pretty magical, considering the region’s surreal moonscape topography. On the other two mornings, we just hung out on our hotel terrace and watched the dawn parade of balloons from the ground.
We’re not sure which experience we found more rewarding, frankly. This was awesome to watch, with a double espresso in hand.
The dude in this video piloting the balloon was on a totally different skill level. Would have been awesome to have been in the basket for that ride.
WolfeStreetTravel 