HNY from NOLA

The only thing everyone said we should do in New Orleans was eat. Eat as much as we could, in as many places as we could find. A lot of people had specific recommendations. Nobody told us of places which were bad. It was hard to go wrong.

Louis Armstrong Park, at the end of our street

There was a catch. It was bowl season and the Oklahoma Sooners were playing the Alabama Crimson Tide in the Sugarbowl. As the crowds of black and gold faded away hordes of people in red and white took their place.

College football is serious business.

So our culinary expeditions had to be well planned. For example we could not bring ourselves to wait in line for Cafe du Monde, which is very famous. We knew it was famous because of the queue, which often stretched through the cafe, on to the street, and along the block. We decided to get our beignets elsewhere.

Here are some highlights.

Andrew Jackson

The Backspace Bar gave us a meatloaf sandwich to remember, let us split it, and gave us the okay to eat it with our hands: "Grip it and rip it," the bartender said.

The height limit in the French Quarter keeps the roof line low

Cafe Amelie has an offshoot, Petite Amelie, which made a top-level gumbo and fresh sandwiches. It was one of the few places we visited more than once.

A number of the alleyways are not accessible by vehicles.

We had planned to spend New Years Eve in one of the many famous restaurants around the city but, because of the Sugarbowl crowds, they were booked pretty tight. But our Christmas experience had taught us well; we went to the movies.

The Wolf of Wall Street was showing in a cinema which offered in-seat service. We enjoyed drinks and food and emerged into the streets to celebrate with the city of New Orleans as the Fleur de Lis dropped.

Bourbon street on New Years Eve

New year's day was quiet; the streets empty but for the strange trucks applying detergent to Bourbon Street.

Actually they do this every day

The weather did not clear for our whole stay but we were determined to get some photos by the water. We braved the winds and the growing crowds of Sooners and Tide and snapped some pics by the water.

Spirit of the Immigrant (really)

With New Year's Eve behind us we finally went around to Frenchmen Street to have a drink and listen to some music. It was a revelation. Outside of the bustle of the French Quarter crowds Ali found a bar with live jazz and a massive beer menu. The first band we saw played for tips, coming around with a sousaphone and a bucket to collect change from the patrons between sets. We stayed longer than we meant to.

It was a great time.

Ali being cold in New Orleans

Of course the highlight was the seafood. Shrimp po boys, catfish, shellfish gumbo, all things I wouldn't eat at home, all smelled too good to pass up.

Oyster tacos were a highlight

In truth we probably stayed in New Orleans one night too long. With everything we meant to do finished after a few days we struggled on our last and didn't want to stay cooped up in the room of our inn.

Creepy Jesus was a landmark we navigated by.

In fact we stayed two days too long. Our flight to New York was cancelled (of the five direct flights that day ours was the only one cancelled).

We were given a hotel in a dead spot in the city. The next day we flew to Atlanta before sunrise and spent eight hours learning our way around Atlanta International Airport, which was not as bad as it sounds. The airport is huge. We learned some Georgian history, walked through a display of Zimbabwean sculpture, had some good food, and made our connection to La Guardia.

It was two degrees below zero when we landed. It only got colder from there.

History served up like cake

Hm. Istanbul. Where to start.

As we left the airport it was different from other places I had been in Europe. The press of cars, sound of horns, the power of the sun. We rounded a corner on the highway and came in view of the old Byzantine sea wall and I had my Toto moment (we're not in Kansas, not the rains in Africa).

Two days of travel had left me pretty wiped. I explored the streets around the hotel (small, unevenly paved, confusing) but it was too hot to venture too far in a new city.

The organised tour I was on started the next day with a walk through the prominent sites in Istanbul's Old City. Our first stop was the Hippodrome.

*Insert your own overcompensating joke*

Ahmet, our guide, explained that this was where they used to race chariots in Byzantine Constantinople.

"Rad," I thought, "I can put the hippodrome in my novel."

Then he told us about the unfortunate outcome of the Nika riots.

"Great," I thought. "I can use the ruined hippodrome in my novel."

Where the hippodrome once stood is now Sultan Ahmet square, and it's still home to three Byzantine columns; the oldest of them, the Egyptian column, looks like it could have been put up last year. All three are dug into the ground, their bases around two meters below street level, because the city was much lower fifteen hundred years ago. Most of what Istanbul is built on is Constantinople, layer upon layer.

Also in the square is the Kaiser Wilhelm Fountain.

Looks German

The fountain was a gift from the Kaiser to the Ottoman Emperor. We were in the city for Ramadan, the one month of the year that the water in the fountain is operational.

Next stop: the Sultan Ahmet Mosque, better known as the Blue Mosque.

Doesn't look blue. Is this a language thing?

Named for the tiles which adorn the walls and ceiling, the Blue Mosque does have a funny language story behind it. Sultan Ahmet, who wanted it built, specified to the architect that he wanted a mosque with gold minarets. But the word for 'gold' and 'six' are very similar and the architect started work soon afterwards on a mosque with six minarets.

Oh yeah. That's pretty blue.

Lucky for him, the Sultan was quite taken with the idea.

We crossed back over to Topkapi Palace, the seat of power for the Ottoman Emperors for over 400 years.

Looks like a palace. But does it smell like a palace?

All of the things I wanted to photograph in the palace, like the armoury and the treasury, did not allow photography. But there were some great views outside.

Also, it rained.

Just outside Topkapi some ruins were being excavated; the remains of the Great Palace of Constantinople, the Byzantine palace.

Now the site of a luxury hotel.

We had some lunch and made our way to the Hagia Sophia, just as the sky blackened again. We just made it inside as raindrops the size of golf balls started pelting the city.

Ahmet took a moment to tell us a bit about the history of the church; about how it was rebuilt twice and has been standing in its current form since 537. About the columns inside, taken from the Temple of Artemis. How it was a church, then a mosque, and now a museum.

How it represents the development of Turkey.

It is... impressive

The conversion from cathedral to mosque has left some of the most amazing and beautiful sights. Because the Ottomans plastered over the original mosaics, they were largely preserved and can be seen today, though in many places the plaster remains, making both parts of the building's history are visible.

Each one had six wings...

This was another one of the "I am so glad I went on this trip," moments. How could I have sent Ragnar to Constantinople for almost eight years and not mention the Haiga Sophia once? Not even once? After seeing the stave churches where Christianity was practiced in Norway, this would have blown his tiny viking mind. And I haven't even mentioned it once.

Our last stop wasn't on the 'official' tour route, but Ahmet thought it was important for us to see; the Basilica Cistern.

Coooooooool

Another Byzantine structure, the cisterns all around the city provided Constantinople's water. Without a nearby mountain range to supply fresh water, the Romans built aqueducts (some still standing) to bring water and fill the cisterns (I haven't been able to find out where from - anyone know this?).

Where once it held 100,000 tons of water, it now has a fish pond.

All that took about eight hours and I was exhausted. We had an early start the next morning, heading for Gallipoli.

Three fortresses, two farms and a burrito

"The island is first mentioned in 997, when the king, Olav Tryggvason, rowed out here, with two heads."
That got my attention.
"The head of the local king, his worst enemy, and the king's slave. They were put on stakes, facing Trondheim, so that all would know who ruled."
I had travelled to Munkholmen because it promised a fine view of the city from the water. I had not expected that the history of the place would be so interesting.

Also, it looked badass

Not many people had come out on the tour; a lot of local families had come to have picnics on the shore. But it was fascinating; from viking executions to Catholic power base, a fortress for repelling Swedes and a German flak emplacement.

Star shaped battlements for fighting with swords, round walls for guns. Things you learn.

The boat ride out, the tour and the ride back took most of the morning, so I had lunch at the Dromadar Kaffebar (best coffee in Norway!) for some lunch. There was a path uphill from there, and something strange on the map, so I wandered up to have a look.

Pretty good view from up there

It was a second fortress, recently opened to tourists. A strange experience; no ticket needed to enter, no information inside. Just a bunch of people having picnics.

Just... in a fortress

Norwegians, it seems, love picnics in fortresses. Considering the fortresses have all the best views, I can't fault them on that.

Back in town, I hopped on the number 8 bus out to the folk museum, an outdoor establishment founded by a rich Swiss couple. They have relocated historical buildings from all over Trondelag and have a traditional town, two farms and two churches set up around a high hill that was once a strategic fortress.

A typical post-reformation church with a modern era Norwegian man

One of the farms (the 'rich' farm) featured a house which was used only for wedding celebrations. I would liken this extravagance to a modern family in a landlocked country owning a boat; they don't use it very often, but that's not the point.

Inside was some amazing traditional Norwegian decoration, against a not-so-Norwegian white background (the artist was Dutch)

There was a fire a few years ago and they had to restore it.

But the best thing I learned there was the origin of the Scandinavian/Baltic cry of 'Skål!' when drinking.  It literally means 'Bowl!'

This is a Skål

At weddings the guests would all bring baskets of food. One of the women in the household would have to keep track of who brought what and make sure nobody was served their own food (a major insult). The man of the house was responsible for providing the beer, which he brought up from the cellar in large jugs and poured into a bowl or Skål which had cups floating in the beer. When a guest wanted another cup, he would call for the bowl.

There were also buildings and such

The museum's tavern came well recommended (online) and I stopped in for dinner. I had a reindeer burrito, with a kind of potato pancake instead of a tortilla. It was... pretty good.

That morning, out at Munkholmen, the tour guide had given me a nice tip.

"The statue of Olav Tryggvason, in the middle of town, has next to him a small lump. It is the head of Haakon Jarl. Most people miss it."

I know I had.

Can you see it?