Travelling while Black

They tell you in the guidebooks what to expect if you're gay or if you're a woman. Hell, they need to do it for if you're recognisably black.  

 "Americanah" - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichi

Ain't this the truth! Ain't this the truth!

*Ms Adichi speaks a whole lot of truth in Americanah, by the way.*

So while I am not sure what is going on with my life and what 2015 will hold, I still have to at least think of vacation ideas. It's bad enough being a solo traveller - having to find places where a solo traveller feels safe and secure. It's bad enough being a solo female traveller - having to be extra careful in the choices you make as it relates to hotels, travel etc. But add being black to that - it's just a whole other thing altogether.

Travelling while black is real - the notion that this is an issue, I mean. Shopping trips to Miami and New York - no problem. It's like being at home. London - such a melting pot that it's rare that I actually feel like an alien. Londoners ignore everyone - black, white.  But there are some places where I have felt totally out of sorts. The Rome experience to this day, always makes me a bit upset.

Vacations should be carefree for everyone.
This is not me, btw

Luckily, the good experiences outweigh the bad, and though there have been several moments of "wtf!" on my trips, I think they usually had less to do with racism and more to do with:

Plain and simple ignorance - Dear Europe - all black people do not live in Africa. Ever heard the word "diaspora"? I cannot tell you how many times I have been asked to say an English word in "my language". For example - old guy in Florence, Italy. Worse yet, when they find out I am not from Africa, then I just HAVE TO BE American, even if my accent does not quite fit the bill. "Ever been to New York?" Yes, I have been to New York but that is the magic of air travel. I am not American. If someone actually knows where Trinidad is after I tell them, I give them a virtual hug because it is almost miraculous! I am truly an oddity which takes me to the next point...

Curiousity - I heard someone refer to the impolite staring as "rarism" as opposed to"racism". In some of these quasi-homogeneous cities, people like me are a rarity. You are like the raisin in the bowl of milk so they stop and stare and you check to make sure you don't have something in your nose or that your fly is not open because the stares are so pervasive and invasive. Worse, in some cities, the black people there tend to be immigrants, and in my experience, they were usually street vendors/scam artists or hooking. Enter well-dressed black woman and it's like "wtf"? You have now confused the people even more with your bourgie blackness. For me it is always a bit bizarre, especially coming from a place where people stare at you cause they like your ass and want to grab it. Noone stares at my hair, or wants to touch it here, but it is a real phenomenon in some of these places - one that is not cute no matter how clueless or genuinely curious the people may be. There should be a guidebook for residents of these cities - Dos and Don'ts of Meeting Black People for the First Time.

They are just naturally unfriendly and surly - The haterade may actually have nothing to do with the colour of your skin. The people sometimes are just plain unmannerly, unfriendly, uncouth and as we say in Trinidad, "just not on you" and have no damn "broughtupsy".Sad to say, London always comes to mind. They are just a special breed of homo sapien - totally divorced from the reality of life all around them, but when you get around the cold exterior, and get them to put down the iPhone, they can be lovely people. In some places though, they are just like this - fullstop.

But don't get me wrong - travelling while black has the real issues of racism. I have had bus drivers ignore me, waitresses take their damn time to serve me and when they did, I got none of the smiles and sweetness the white customers got. I have had border control brace me as though I were some kind of hoodlum, and Customs stop me to search my luggage and when I looked around, everyone else being searched looked like me. My friend had the cops called on her as she was pumping gas at an isolated gas station behind God's back in the US. And let's not forget another friend who was followed to her hotel room by a hotel employee, accosted and told that prostitutes were not allowed in the hotel.

And it does not matter that we are not drug mules or international escorts. It does not matter that I am educated to Master's level, have a very nice job, with paid vacation and international medical coverage, and zero desire to stay past the time on my visa. The fact of the matter is my passport looks strange and worse yet, I look strange cause I am dark skinned, with dark brown eyes and dark hair. Oh, I'm black. Right. Forgot about that.

But it would also be unfair to paint one city black (pun very well intended) because of the idiocy of a few. Most of my experiences have been positive and a city like Rome, for example, is so beautiful that you just ignore the nonsense and try to make the best of it until you can get the hell outta there. Not to mention I had the chance to meet a friend for the first time ever, so there were a lot of good memories from that trip. I have learnt over time to not miss the opportunities in front of me because of any stereotypes or prejudice people may have. That's on them.

That being said, I am not sure where to go this year. My tolerance levels for nonsense are at an all time low, and it would be nice to travel among more people like myself, but still - the world is my oyster so onward! Ideas still welcome, keeping in mind the solo, female bit as well.

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It's Wine O'Clock - Trip to Swiss Wine Country

After a great night out with adventures into Swiss fondue, we prepared ourselves for the next mission - to visit Lavaux - a region in the canton of Vaud, or as I like to call it, part of Swiss wine country. I was very excited for this and the weather seemed to cooperate ever so slightly as the rains abated, though the sun never really quite joined the party.

Lavaux is beautiful, framed by the gorgeous waters of the lake and with the Swiss alps nestled neatly in the background, though on this day we could barely see the peaks behind the grey of the now non-threatening clouds.

Beautiful views from the top of the vineyards

The wine villages below us 

We took the wine trail through the vineyards to the lovely town of St Saphorin, where we stopped for a bite and of course, had some wine. The trail itself takes you through the terraced vineyards which stretch for miles (and miles!), with the Chasselas grape being master (or mistress) of the vineyards.

Our lunch break was at a small, unpretentious village pub-like establishment (you know how I "love" pub-like establishments), but this was Switzerland and the dish of the day, comprised of perfectly cooked lamb, spinach and roast potatoes was fantastic.

Assiette du Jour!

With our bellies full, we took a less scenic stroll to the town of Rivas, the central town of the region and the location of the Lavaux Vinorama, where we would sample some of the best wines the region had to offer. Exciting!

After a short film about the life of the wine grower or le vigneron (during which time I unashamedly stole a few winks), we were led back upstairs to the main event - the tasting. We were actually supposed to taste 3 wines, but our dedicated host was a real gem, and between us girls, we managed to taste quite a few reds and whites - each exquisite (though there was one red which really did not make love to my palate at all!). Paired with bread and sticks of puff pastry, our afternoon wine tasting was decadent and is a must for anyone visiting this beautiful area of Lausanne.

Wines everywhere, at every turn...

Lovely whites from the Lavaux region in Switzerland

Our reds -all for us!

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How we defeated the rain in Lausanne, Switzerland

Amsterdam had lived up to all my expectations but soon it was time to set off once more. This time I took myself and my pink suitcase to Amsterdam Schipol airport en route to Geneva International in Switzerland. There I met my girlfriends, one Swiss and the other who had arrived about 10mins before from Madrid and much to my fatigued traveller horror, we made a mad dash for the train which would take us to our final destination, Lausanne.

In the dark of night, Lausanne did not get me that excited and when the heavens opened up the next morning, shrouding the city in grey, I was a bit hesitant to fall in love with it. But even with the lake and mountains cloaked in bleakness, the hilly city still managed to show its charm. With the rain not letting up, we were content to have some drinks and then later dinner with friends, leaving more adventurous pursuits for less watery days.

Well...this seemed almost impossible, but we still managed to do a bit of sightseeing, including seeking physical shelter and maybe spiritual refuge as well in the Cathedral of Notre Dame of Lausanne, where I did indeed whsiper a prayer for my loved ones, and also leave a prayer request on the request board. You will just have to ask me what I asked for.

View of rainy Lausanne from the hill on which the cathedral is located

Hilly Lausanne - one can get quite the workout here

The interior of the Cathedral of Notre Dame of Lausanne

The rain just would not quit but this would not stop us from enjoying first a couple fabulous coffee creations at the Nespresso boutique. For those who love coffee as I do, this was heaven on earth. You got a full explanation of the various Nespresso products, along with customised sampling of the coffee itself. Then, if you were so inclined, you can sit in the Nespresso bar and order from their vast menu of simply divine hot or cold beverages. After a lot of walking up and down the streets of Lausanne, this was my everything.

The Nespresso Boutique in Lausanne - products and coffee galore

All the little coloured pods are Nespresso pods. So much choice!

I tried first Un Doux Defile de Mocca Latte which was a wonderful twist on the mocha latte, with the kicker being the hazelnut base.

These were the specialty drinks of the month. I had the last two as shown here.

My special Swiss mocha latte

The real star was the Mojito a la mode Coco - a layered mojito comprised of a regular mojito at the bottom, cold, shaken coffee in the middle and coconut cream. This was epic and the flavours all worked so well together.

My coffee mojito. Epic!

But it was our date with Swiss cheese fondue later that evening that made all our rainy day blues go away. We had reservations at the Café du Grütli, which is located on the ground floor of one of the oldest buildings in Lausanne (over 150 years old), with the current owners working their magic with fondue for the past 30 years.

I was a bit apprehensive about fondue as my stomach cannot always handle such richness, especially being lactose intolerant. But how can one come to Switzerland and not try cheese fondue? With our Swiss guide (my friend, Laure) we ordered the cheese fondue and the tomato cheese fondue. The former is eaten by dipping bits of bread into the pot of melted cheeses infused with white wine, while you eat the latter by pouring some of it over potatoes. Both fondues are served straight off the stovetop and are kept warm and more importantly, in their melted state by placing them on spirit burners on the table. The bread is simple, as are the potatoes as it is really a simple, yet traditional dish.

Our pots of cheese fondue. 

My tomato and cheese fondue served over boiled potatoes
and bits of bread to be dipped in the plain cheesefondue, using my dipping fork

Can I just say all apprehension over my frail stomach went out the door after the first bite? When the girl brought out both pots, I was convinced there was no way we would be able to eat it all. An hour later, both pots were empty and the wine was done as well. It was incredible and possibly the highlight of my entire Lausanne experience.

And that's how we defeated the rain that day!

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Take me back to Bruges

Last year I had planned to visit Bruges but with last minute change in plans, Bruges was scrapped. This year, being in Amsterdam, of course a trip to this small Belgian town was very much in order. I decided to do just a day trip as opposed to a short stay as I was not exactly sure what to expect.  

I booked a coach trip  which would see us commute 3 hrs one way to Bruges. Shockingly I was not the only brown tourist this time around. The drive to the town was uneventful. The guide gave us some background on both Amsterdam and Bruges both from a historical and contemporary socio-political context and prepared us really for the town itself.

What a beautiful little town it is. It was almost like going back in time, with horse drawn carriages, beautiful old churches and towers, cobblestoned streets and squares. Even with the throng of tourists, the town was still quaint and refreshingly authentic.  Of course one of the huge draws was chocolate. One does not go to Belgium and not try or buy chocolate. How can you? There is a chocolatier on almost every corner. Wonderful hand made chocolates, and like the cheese in Amsterdam, there was chocolate in every iteration. I had the good fortune of being able to sample quite a bit of chocolate. How lucky am I? When you walk into these shops, the smell is absolutely heavenly and if you are a chocolate lover, well...what can I say?

I also used my time to try some food in Belgium and chose one of the nicer restaurants bordering the main square. I decided to go with the Carbonnades Flamandes, the traditional Flemish beef stew, which was served with pommes frites and salad and which is like the national dish. The beef, which is cooked in dark beer, was so tender and succulent. It was not very different to West Indian stew to be honest, but it was very delicious. The beer! 

The canals of Bruges are surely for those in love. I am in love with canals. While I am sure those who live there are not that in love with the mosquitoes, they do make for beautiful views and heavenly experiences. I would love to go back to Bruges,  though certainly to enjoy the romance of the city.

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Cheese, canals, Amsterdam.

My very first day in Amsterdam was picture perfect. It was a gorgeous day. Blue skies and big white clouds, with the sunlight bouncing off the waters of the famed canals. That being said, it was the perfect day for a cruise along the canals, which also came "free" as part of my I Amsterdam card.

The cruise itself was lovely - an hour along the canals, getting a bit of the history of the city. It was for me, nicer to walk along the canals and see their beauty from the many bridges which provide that postcard perfect view.

Next up, was a cheese lover's dream - cheese tasting. I am a lover of gouda cheese and here was my chance to sample gouda in every iteration known to man. Pesto gouda, truffle gouda (divine and in the suitcase), cumin gouda, smoked gouda with herbs and spices (already in the suitcase cause you know I love some smoked gouda), black pepper gouda, asparagus and bacon gouda...and the list goes on and on. My cheese ambassador was amazing. Sweet and very willing to let me try every single cheese in the place - and I mean I tried EVERY last one. Divine. Loved my day with the cheese!

Dutch cuisine, unfortunately is not characterised by anything unique. There were a lot of different types of cuisine being represent and what I had was always fantastic, but it was not Dutch and one cannot really point to anything that screamed Holland. Still, I ate!

And drank. Of course, the Dutch have great beer and while I am not a huge beer drinker, I was in the land of Heineken and Amstel so okay...bring it on. However, the non-Dutch rose beers stole the show for me. Pink beer with a waterfront view - what could have outclassed this?

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Italy: The End of the Road

By the time we got to San Gimignano, I really think we were too tired to be excited tourists. The sun was unrelenting and we were also faced with a short hill and stairs - no escalators like in Siena, much to my annoyance. But really, the walled city of San Gimignano was breathtaking. The streets were teeming with life - both the tourist kind and the resident kind - with the city's famed towers looking down on all of us. I decided to break away from the ladies and go exploring on my own because I knew I wanted to move at my own pace this time around. I managed to pick up some awesome biscotti for my cousin and tried on some really gorgeous handmade jewellry pieces in a couple of shops. The prices were as hot as the Italian sun, so I made zero purchases but maybe next time.

I made a couple stops in souvenir shops and pitstops, but this was apparently quite the draw and I was loathe to join a line as long as my dress for ice cream but when the boast is that the gelato you're hawking is the world's best gelato and you have a trophy somewhere to prove it...well...I will bite.

I stood in line for maybe only 5 minutes as the staff were probably quite used to this tourist bonanza, and I ordered a buttery flavoured gelato which was fantastic. I took my fat, hot, tired gelato loving ass to a shady nook and people watched until the cone was no more. Then I ran to a standpipe and washed the milky mess off my hands and ran some water over my face and neck and made a slow walk back to the tour bus.

When I got back to the bus, the sea of tired faces, with either water soaked or sweat soaked hair clinging to them was enough to make me laugh. We got on the bus, grateful for the a/c and made the drive to Pisa and thankfully by the time we got there, the sun had been overthrown by some darkish clouds and it was cool and bearable because I will not lie, at one point I was like "F...Pisa!" cause it was so hot. But nothing could have prepared us for how beautiful the Piazza looked as we drove up, with this view.

My Indian seatmate and her dad had made plans to climb the Leaning Tower, while her mum passed, too tired to make it, thus enabling the Canadian girl to get the chance to walk the 300-odd steps to the top. Did I do it? Of course not and had I booked an advanced ticket to do so, I would have sold it cause at this point I was completely exhausted. lol. The other ladies and I walked a bit, did the annoying tourist thing of taking photos, marvelled at the absolute beauty of the Baptistery and the Cathedral and then sat on the steps looking up at the incredible Leaning Tower that til then I had only seen in books and on tv.

It was pretty surreal at that point, that I was sitting on the steps in front of the tower, with 2 Americans and an Indian, having a slushie and staring at an civil engineering  disaster that is celebrated the world over. And I thought, wow, it has been a blessed day.

The bus ride back to Florence was a merry one, with people exchanging email addresses and laughing. I got back to Florence, a little darker, a lot happier, very tired but complete.

Interested in this tour. Click HERE.

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Italy: Modernity Meets Old World

The next morning I was up early again, donned a flaming yellow Caribbean sundress, had my breakfast and started on my walk to Santa Maria Novella station to meet up with the rest of my tour group for our day in the Tuscan countryside. I usually like doing at least one organised your on my trips, as it allows me to meet other travellers and see far flung areas that had you organised to see yourself, would take a lot of coordination and research. This particular tour was going to take us out of Florence and into Siena, San Gimignano and Pisa, and nothing beats the airconditioned tour bus.

My seatmate was an Indian-American, whose parents migrated from India to facilitate the dad's doctoral studies. Our tour guide, Sandra was very very pleasant and very knowledgeable and our driver, Billy. We left Florence at 8.30 and our first stop was to be Siena.

What a beautiful city.

Sandra told us the city was built on the hills and I thought to myself "Oh God! Another day of walking up hills in this heat!" I started planning how I could get one of the big men on the bus to give me a piggy back ride up the hill, when Sandra told us there were actually escalators to take us up to the city. What a progessive people!!! There were, I think, 5 "flights" of escalators which took us straight to the city, where we put on our whistles and headphones so we could hear everything our tourguide had to say. Our Siena tourguide, and I cannot recall her name now, led us through the city, with its narrow streets and beautiful old world architecture, telling us all about the city and its traditions, including the Palio di Siena, an annual horse race which is unique to Siena. The race takes place in the Piazza del Campo, the beautiful square in the middle of it all.

Our official tour ended at the Duomo di Siena, where we got to tour in the church and learn about its history. This was a much needed respite from the mind frying heat outside. Nah man...I am from a tropical country eh, but this was no jokey heat, dread. I was dying.

We had private time to explore more of the city on our own, during which time I struck up conversations with some American and Aussie ladies also on the tour - sisters in melt, because we were just all wilting under the Tuscan sun.

Our next stop was to be lunch at a farmhouse near San Gimignano, where we first got to tour the property, from its vineyards and olive groves to its wine cellars and cow shed. The cow shed part I was not feeling so that was a short session for me, but the wine cellars, and the exotic smell wafting from the dozens of barrels and storage containers were heaven.

Lunch was superb. It was lilke a huge Italian family meal, with tables set up on the terrace overlooking the vineyard - gorgeous gorgeous view. We were served pasta (of course), along with pecorino and proscuitto and insalate  with everything made right there at the farmhouse, except I think the proscuitto. Of course the best part was the sampling of the vineyard's wines, and we had a 5 wine line up, from a very lovely young white to a very sweet dessert wine, which we dipped our biscotti in while digesting an absolutely splendid meal. I had a lot of the white and was really toasty after that. And happy. Happpppppy.

Thank you Ryanair for being so lame with the luggage fees and restrictions that I could not buy bottles of wine to take back with me. I only have fleeting memories of the taste, so thanks eh. You rock!

We headed to the walled city of San Gimignano after lunch, another hour or so away so after food and wine, it was no surprise that there was some serious snoozing on the way up. My seatmate was knocked out and was giving me a little snoring concert as well, but it was okay. I was too tired and fattened to care.

Next - Part 5: Italy: The End of the Road

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Italy: The Day the Slushie was King, to the Trini Queen!

Walking along the Ponte Vecchio was really awesome. During a tour later in our trip, we learnt that initially, butchers set up shop along the bridge but the members of the Medici family, when having to walk along the bridge to get to work at the Palazzo Vecchio, did not appreciate the smell. Thus out went the butchers and in came the gold merchants and to this day, gold, art and beautiful souvenirs rule the roost on the bridge.

I eventually decided that I did not want to pay money to go into the Boboli Gardens. I had been in enough free gardens during vacations, and truly, after the huge lunch I had, I thought it best to keep walking and exploring the city. So I decided I would head to the Piazza Michelangelo, where the view was supposed to be breathaking.

What was breathtaking was the trek to the square. Literally. No...it really took my breath away. My guidebook had detailed directions to the square, with both a bus option and a pedestrian option. Brave traveller that I am, I opted to walk. Travel tip - uphill walking is not recommended in 36 degree Celsius heat and in a floor-length sundress. When I got to the base of this hill I was supposed to climb, I almost turned back because it was so incredibly hot, I was incredibly tired and the incline was incredibly steep, but then the Cuban woman, who looked almost 100, put me to shame taking her steps up the incline gingerly. I continued going up, taking little breaks with my fan and stopping to chat with other tourists who had taken similar breaks along the way. Tip: Take the  bus up the hill, folks. lol

By the time I made it to the top of this hill, I was dead. I was hot, sticky and exhausted. I immediately got myself a strawberry slushie (the best!) and sat down with my fan for 5 minutes to "ketch mihself". But the view at the top was well worth the exercise. It was a clear, sunny (did I mention, hot?) day so you could see the entire city for miles. Just gorgeous.

There is also another replica of David in the square, so again, the desire to see the original was not an overwhelming one.

I got myself another slushie and sat in the sun where I baked for 3 minutes before getting yet another slushie and some water and found a shady corner. It truly was a breathtaking experience.

The walk down of course was much more pleasant, and with slushie #4 in hand I took a leisurely stroll back to the city centre, back to the corridor of the Uffizi where I realised my feet were a black, dusty mess from all the dust and grime. You can imagine the length and bliss of my shower that night.

I looked around as the day started to wind down and the doors of the gallery were closing and the tourists started heading back to the Duomo where seemed to be Tourist Central. I sat on the Duomo steps, hoping Francesco did not make an appearance, and had a tiramisu gelato and some water, while chatting with a Mexican man and his fiancee who had also climbed the hill to Piazza Michelangelo and who were also going to the Tuscan countryside the next day, though not with my tour. One thing I absolutely love about my adventures is meeting all the fellow travellers and sharing our experiences. I did mention to my uncle yesterday that I am always the lone black tourist, which is a bit sad.

I window shopped for the rest of the evening, with of course, a Sephora stop, where I indulged in a smoky eye and a lip gloss application (remember I travelled via Ryanair, so I had only cabin baggage, and left 99% of my makeup behind, so this was free bliss!). Ready for dinner!!!

I decided to try Trattoria da Guido for dinner since I had a hankering for ravioli and Florentine steak. I love the outside dining of Europe, and I chose a table which gave me a good view to gape and observe people passing by. The food here was excellent (dunno what the one negative review on Tripadvisor was about), even better than the food I had the night before. I especially loved the bruschetta and I remarked the next day that even something as seemingly simple as toasted bread with olive oil and tomatoes tasted different everywhere I had it. This was good bruschetta though. I had 3 glasses of wine with my meal, and was toasty and very happy after that.

Next: Part 4: Italy: Modernity Meets Old World

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