A Baltic Break

There are countries you think of a lot and then those that rarely enter your consciousness. Latvia is probably a good example of the latter. I have only ever met one Latvian - a civil servant visiting Japan on a study tour in 2007. But when considering a mini-break from UK last year, and with the criteria of 'less touristy country with direct flight from London', for some reason Latvia came up as an option. After a bit of 'what on earth goes on in Latvia?' research, it was a done deal and we were on an Air Baltic flight with frighteningly tall stewardesses marching up and down the aisle.

Old Riga 

It really was an unexpected treat. The countryside was lush and green (it’s what I imagine Scandinavia to look like), within which you could find quaint towns and villages nestled among the hills. There was Rundale Palace – a dramatic piece of 18th century architecture that rivals anything else I have seen in Europe. The food was some German-Russian hybrid cuisine, which would not get the approval of Weight-Watchers, but was actually quite delicious, with lots of fish (salmon especially), sausages, rye breads and pastries to die for. Much of the older architecture and customer service screamed ex-Soviet scariness and we certainly came across our fair share of gloomy officialdom, but that itself was an interesting aspect to experience. And there were a fair few tourists - especially giggling Italian aunties, for some reason. In a few years’, Latvia could well experience a tourist boom, which is all the more reason to go now. 

Pastries to die for

Rundale Palace

Flowers at Rundale

The old town in Riga is the main draw. A UNESCO world heritage site, it's a magical maze of streets and squares, full of cobbled streets and pastel-coloured facades and perfect pavement cafes. You could imagine the Pied Piper of Hamelin appearing at any moment from behind a wall. Some of the establishments were clearly marketed towards the stag-party crowd from Britain (with copious beer and cottage pie being advertised) but for the most part, old Riga was a place of elegant restaurants and cafes, narrow streets and beautiful plays of light and shade in the afternoon.

Twilight in Riga

A little outside the centre, there was the art-nouveau district with its amazing statues and sculptures adorning the decadent facades. We took a barge trip along the canals and river, enjoyed several of the cafes and their products containing ‘bienspiens’ (cheesecake, I think) and visited the central market. This was the most Soviet-like atmosphere of all, with aunties shopping for sausages and cheeses wearing fashion crimes that were indescribable. A true gem was an old cinema hall that had so much atmosphere and panache it was hard to believe that it was used to show films. I also managed to meet Mara, the civil servant mentioned above, who seemed to be absolutely delighted that I had chosen to come to her country. She showed us the Ministry of Education where she works, housed in an old building right in the centre of the old city.

Old Riga streets

It just shows it pays to take a risk now and again. Both Latvia and the Baltic states are now places I want to return to soon. Tallinn is meant to be even more beautiful...

River Daugava seen from the barge trip

Ethiopia - worth the wait

Recently, I managed to visit a country I have long had a fascination for: Ethiopia. For various reasons (as I was living in East Asia) it didn't happen earlier. But it was well worth the wait! An intoxicating mix of history, culture, religion, good food, great drinks, beauty (both in people and places), it's the most interesting African country I have been to. It's somewhere I would actually like to live in future. It had a totally unexpected African-Asian vibe too (Hindi film songs, Bajaj tuk-tuks and some children who looked like they could be in a Bangladeshi village). Why did I wait so long?!

It ended up being a full-on trip of 6 places in 2 weeks. This seems quite over-the-top and reminiscent of Japanese package tourists who whizz round Europe in a week, but somehow it didn't feel rushed and the movement from A to B was very much part of the fun. Coming from Kabul, where there is no movement except to the office/supermarket/restaurant, constantly moving on is much appreciated on holiday. In such a large country as Ethiopia, the only real option for a short break was to get lots of domestic flights with Ethiopian Airlines. These were cheap (about $50 each) and always punctual, clean and efficient. The in-flight ham sandwiches were legendary. The only problem was they often left at an unearthly hour of the morning.
 

Market near Dire Dawa

Addis Ababa ('Addis') was the start, middle and end point (you mostly have to come back to Addis to get a flight to anywhere else). It was a great place to walk around and felt pretty safe; on the first day we walked from the south, near the airport, all the way to St George's Cathedral in the Piazza in the north of the city - looking at the map later, this was a mammoth walk across about 2/3 the length of the city! The architecture or street scenes were not particularly astounding, and I would not say Addis is an incredible city (there was not the intensity of colour/sounds you might get in West Africa), but pretty much all street life was interesting in one way or another. We were immediately struck by how glamorous many Ethiopians were; this made us feel really quite scruffy in comparison. The women often had big corkscrew curl hair-dos (wigs?), abundant jewellry and bright, trendy clothes. A coffee in Le Parisien cafe on Bole Road felt like a coffee shop anywhere in the west. The highlight 'sight' in Addis was without doubt the Ethnological Museum, housed within Addis Ababa University. This was superbly curated, with fantastic background music too, and a treasure of information on the diverse cultures, ethnic groups and lifestyles in the country. And the wooden furniture! There was not one chair or table that we did not want to immediately ship back home. Unfortunately the Merkato - meant to be the largest market in Africa (and also a prime pickpocket spot) - was closed, so that will have to wait until next time. Particularly memorable, also, was Club Alize, where an excellent live band played covers in an uber-cool basement club full of Addis' trendy young party-goers.
 

Main market inside the walled jugol of Harar

Harar was the best part of the trip. It's an old walled city in the muslim East, which is an important commercial and cultural centre. The lack of renovation of the jugol (the walled enclosure), despite being a UNESCO world heritage site, made life within it seem very real, with people going about their business in the winding streets that often had rubbish strewn at the side of them. Thanks to the young guide, whose father was from Jamaica and resides in Shashemene (where the rastafarian community in Ethiopia lives), we visited a Harari coffee factory (the smell was divine), old majestic wooden houses, mosques, tombs, a bakery selling piping hot rolls and various markets selling flatbreads and vegetables that were concentrated at each gate of the walled city. Harar is also known for its hyenas and, more specifically, the long-running relationship between some local old men who feed and talk to the wild hyenas. I think the hyenas have some sort of spiritual protector role of the town. It was pretty odd being so close up to animals that, as a child in Kenya, we would only see from the safety of a car. In Harar, mangoes and Qat (a green plant chewed as a stimulant in much of the Horn of Africa and Middle East) are major products. Apparently qat from this area is flown to the government of Djibouti daily, such is its quality and abundance. The entire place was littered with chewed mango skins and discarded stems from which juicy qat leaves had been torn off. Chewing qat for hours seemed to be a major pastime, which might explain the large number of haggard, wasted-looking men hanging around aimlessly at the side of the street for hours on end. I tried it; it perked me up, like a strong coffee would, for about 30 minutes, but the bitter taste of grass was not really worth it. After a dinner at a local beer bar (the locally brewed Harar beer and Hakim stout were truly excellent), where we ate copious tibs (fried, salty beef chunks and onions), we went to the National; a cavernous and quite seedy hotel/nightclub (prostitutes openly prowling across the dancefloor) to listen to live music. The dancing of the local clientele was very amusing to watch.

Dire Dawa, the gateway to Harar, is an extremely flat, hot and green city, very spaced out and organised. A water problem at the first hotel of choice (in that there was not a drop - hot or cold) prompted a swift escape to the large Ras Hotel, an ageing government-run place with tropical gardens. The receptionist seemed bemused, if not slightly offended, when immediately asked if his hotel had any water or not. This place was like stepping back in time into the 1960s; the decor was fabulously retro, and the chairs and tables would make good collectors' items in the West, I'm sure. The view from the balcony was of trees teeming with vultures staring back at you - like something out of a Hitchcock film. And there was cold water, allowing perhaps the most appreciated scrub/wash of recent times. Future visits to Ethiopia will certainly feature stays at the Ras chain of hotels. Dire Dawa was the only place where we tried Ethiopian wine - Goudar Red (at Paradiso Restaurant). Thankfully, this came in small half-bottles, which was about the maximum one would want to consume anyway - it was not a winner. The colourful Kefira market on the outskirts was an excellent ending to the East, and a mango stock-up point, before catching the flight.

Grains and coffee pots - Kefira market, Dire Dawa

Lalibela is the most famed of tourist sites in Ethiopia - the star attraction in the northern 'Historical Circuit'. This is due solely to its numerous rock-hewn churches. They are pretty incredible, mostly because they were not built but carved from the red-brown rock common in that region. What's more, it's not only the outer structure of the church that was carved but also inside, there are rooms, altars and carved windows, These beggar belief, when you wonder how they were created in an age without electricity or heavy machinery. Most churches are in the centre of town, and can be seen in a day or two, but we also visited a couple on a day trip outside in the surrounding countryside. 

Bet Georgis - the most impressive church

A pilgrim praying

Unfortunately Lalibela was thriving on the insect front - with copious flies and fleas. Walking around the churches - indeed anywhere outside - was a constant exercise in swatting flies away from your face/head. The filthy rugs inside the churches were probably the source of the aggressive fleas that took a liking to me, which resulted in about 50 bites over my stomach and lots of scratching for the rest of the holiday.  
Being such a touristy place, Lalibela also has its fair share of human hangers-on, too, and it’s pretty difficult to walk anywhere without being accosted by new ‘friends’,
including school children who trail you for hours and want you to buy them books - which they then want to exchange for money. Lalibela was a good place for little eateries/local pubs, where we drank St George beer or tej (fermented honey wine), listened to excellent local songs and danced with vigorous up-and-down shoulder movements (the most prominent feature of dancing in Ethiopia, it seems).

Centre of Gondar - with tuk tuks!

One of the castles in the Royal Enclosure

Gondar, another city on the historical circuit, is known for its castles and historical buildings, as well as being the gateway to the Simien Mountains. Arriving in a downpour, the first few hours were spent sheltering in the hotel, only to be soaked again when we finally thought it OK to leave. Sheltering in the Skyline Cafe, however, proved a blessing, for we discovered ful - a bean dish topped with avocado, chilli and eggs, and also fetira - a pancake with honey and egg inside. The wet, cloudy and grey weather actually provided a suitable setting for the sights, for wandering around the castles in the Royal Enclosure felt like being in Wales, rather than the Horn of Africa. The mere idea of castles just seemed incongruous here, but with the drizzle, long green grass and multiple layers of clothing, it was utterly bizarre! The smells inside the castle ramparts reminded me of the dust and bat urine (?) smell you get inside forts in India - hardly pleasant but nostalgic, nonetheless! Other sights included King Fasilidas’ bath (a huge enclosure that they fill with water once a year at festival time) and Debre Zeit church, the ceiling of which was adorned with religious paintings of hundreds of angels and saints. The centre of town had old cafes (Ethiopia Cafe) and buildings, making it pleasant to walk around. My abiding memory of this area is finding a tiny (4 cm) lizard inside my rucksack (from where, I don't know) and trying to remove it in the middle of the busiest intersection in Gondar. After finally succeeding, it plopped out onto the pavement and tried to scurry off. We were desperate for it to make it to safety and were practically obstructing passers-by from advancing, but then one man came along and deliberately stepped on the poor thing, grinning broadly. Tragedy! 
 

Lake Tana

A priest at a male-only monaster

A bus trip to Bahir Dar was the only long bus ride in the holiday. This was the last stop before returning to Addis, and it was hot and tropical. The whole of the trip had been dominated by mangoes all the way, but Bahir Dar was particularly rewarding in this regard; there was even some kind of mango market right outside the hotel. Ethiopia apparently has mangoes year-round; this is reason enough to live there. The hotel – the Ghion – was a curious contrast of being completely wonderful outside, with paradise-like lush gardens teeming with huge flowers overlooking the lake, to being completely awful inside the rooms. The mosquitoes were so numerous that showering was out of the question and going to the toilet required vigorous waving of arms around one’s body to prevent any of them from biting during those few stationary minutes. Bahir Dar sits on the shores of Lake Tana; Ethiopia’s largest (I think) and the source of the Blue Nile. The lake is the top attraction, and, more specifically, the several islands in the lake, which have monasteries on them. Hiring a boat we visited several of them, seeing hippos on the way. The monasteries were round wooden structures, often in the middle of forests, and were adorned with a riot of colourful religious paintings. Seeing Christian depictions of Jesus and Mary etc. as Africans was interesting, but I do wonder how much more a religious person would get more out of the experience of visiting Ethiopia's religious sites.   

Food and drink in Ethiopia deserves special mention. We went to a couple of 'cultural restaurants', which are places to enjoy local food together with music and dancing, albeit in a slightly tacky atmosphere which clearly has been jazzed up for foreigners (and rich Ethiopians showing their foreign friends their culture). Some of the dancing was highly unusual - especially the one where men and women rubbed chins together. Habesha restaurant was the place to first try injera, the ubiquitous pancake made from fermented tef (a grain) flour, and heaped with various curried stews, meats and - if you are lucky - some vegetables. My first injera incited the reaction of "am I going to have to eat this for the next 2 weeks?" but by the end of the holiday, I was willingly ordering injera, together with shiro wat (a spicy chickpea puree that was such a favourite to the extent I bought 2 shiro wat pots to take home). Injera heavily featured meat stews but they also had what was called 'fasting food', which was a purely vegetarian array of dishes. This was much better than the buttery meat stews, but was sadly not as common. 

The cakes in Ethiopia were good, most varieties being big and spongy and  - as we found out at the bottom of our bags several times – easily disintegrating in texture. Apart from this, though, Ethiopia was not a place for a sweet-tooth; people do not eat desserts. Perhaps the excellent mangoes - stringier than the South Asian varieties - and the amount of sugar they put in their macchiatos fully satisfies any sugar craving.

Sprice - a multilayered fruit juice - was a feature of the entire holiday. Before going to Ethiopia others had raved about the juices there, which was slightly confusing; how could a juice warrant so much attention? The answer became clear upon the taste and sight of one's first sprice... Normally composed of 4 or 5 layers of juice (mango, avocado, guava, papaya and a squeeze of lime on top), these multicoloured delights are half eaten with a long spoon and half drunk through a straw. A couple of them could double as a meal. Words cannot describe how good they are - without a doubt the best juices I have had. I am at a loss as to how other countries have not invented them, too.

I had no idea Ethiopia has such good beer, too. The local Harar brews, mentioned above, were the best, but the more commonly found St George and Dashen were also delicious. Draft beer drunk in gigantic pitchers was found too in the beer gardens of Bahir Dar.

Last but not least, I couldn't go without mentioning the coffee, for which Ethiopia is rightly famous. Drunk mostly as a espresso or macchiato in small glasses (occasionally as a larger latte, too), it had an intense strength and earthy flavour guaranteed to perk you up in the morning. They even have a coffee-tea combination, which was oddly nice. The cafe culture was everywhere and cafes were excellent place to sit outside and people-watch some of the most memorable characters in the trip. All the coffee was excellent but the best was probably found in Addis, especially in Tomoca, a retro coffee shop in the Piazza that had giant silver coffee machines and was full of dozens of locals guzzling down macchiatos.   

Tomoca coffee shop in the Piazza

India for a week - after 8 years!

I made my 4th trip to India earlier this year. Previous trips were for weeks or months (how I miss those good old student days!) but this was a mere week. It followed an intense 10-week stint in Kabul, and even then I had to negotiate with my Afghan counterparts for time off! Not something I intend to do again. It was a much needed break and as a result I treated myself to a night at The ITC Maurya upon arrival. The pool was closed (so disappointing - it's one of the main reasons to stay in such places) and I found the hotel to be quite disappointing overall. It was fascinating, though, to watch the creme de la creme of Delhi society mingling in the lobby. The highlight was the chicken kebab at Bukhara - reputedly one of the best Indian restaurants in Delhi, housed inside the hotel. The booking were so numerous and the queue was so big, I only got a table at 11:30 pm! I had some Bukhara dal too, but this came with a dollop of butter (which I cannot stand) so was only half-eaten.

I went to just Delhi and Bangalore - two cities I had been to before. I wasn't particularly aiming to see anything new this time but just to enjoy being in India again. It was the first time since 2002, and things had clearly changed a lot. As expected, the dramatic increase of wealth and shiny new shopping malls and hotels was the most conspicuous difference. New Delhi airport - both international and domestic terminals - was astounding in its modernity. The gap between rich and poor seems to have increased and there is so much more range of choice available in everything. Thankfully the cheap street stalls, vibrant colours, bustling markets and general invigorating Indian chaos were still much in evidence (I doubt those things are unlikely to disappear). 

Bangalore street snacks

 
Bangalore was a city where new money and development were palpable - although it has been an IT hub for many years now. I met my friends, Archana and Jen, who were visiting from UK and we visited Bangalore Palace. This was an impressive structure belonging to the evidently rich Wodiyar family. There were wedding preparations going on for that night, with staff climbing up pillars to attach lights and plant decorations. Hundreds of chairs and a stage awaited the guests that evening for a no doubt sumptious party. What a place to get married! We were chased round by an over-zealous guard who blew his whistle whenever we wanted to take a picture - there's always amusement in India. 

Overview of flower section, City Market

 

 Although the first 24 hours made me feel I was yet to experience the India I knew, City Market changed all that (this was recommended when I asked Archana's family for a bazaar with chaos). It was just fantastic and was just what I needed - complete sensory madness, with shops selling everything ranging from giant cooking utensils to banana leaf plates. A bit of shopping had to be done around MG Road, too, which is the main thoroughfare in the city and near where I was staying. In fact my hotel was located on a gorgeous side street which was lined with bougainvillea erupting from the compounds of white-walled houses, any of which I would love to live in! Being in the South, the food was delicious (I much prefer it to the north) and how great it was to eat masala dosas and idlis after so long. 

On the last night, all of us (Archana, Jen and Archana's family) went out to a couple of bars/clubs in UB Towers, a giant complex built by Vijay Mallya's group. It was astounding and rivalled anything I have seen in Tokyo. The lower, marbled floors were full of haute couture shops (Chanel, Gucci), with offices in the middle and bars in the top. It was quite something and I felt positively out of place! One of the venues we went to (but couldn't stay in due to not having a booking) was Skyye, on the rooftop. With glass floors that had lights buried inside, and open to the skies above the city, this was probably the coolest venue I have ever seen.

I totally misjudged the distance from Bangalore city to the airport (when I arrived it was night but when I left it was midday) and for the first time ever missed my flight. I got rebooked on another 5 hours later and actually enjoyed the opportunity to read and sit still - something I do surprisingly little of in Kabul!

Delhi was very nostalgic and I stayed near the backpacker area of Paharganj near the railway station. I met a friend and we went for a picnic at Tuqlaqabad Fort - a massive rambling and ruined complex on the outskirts of the city. Sitting on the walls eating cheese sandwiches, drinking white wine and gazing over the city was a pretty special experience. Did some shopping at Fabindia and Khan Market. Fabindia is a great chain of stores selling clothes and crafts. It offers an expat friendly shopping experience in well-designed shops with air conditioning and a fantastic array of goods. I perhaps overdid it and got 5 kurta shirts - they were too beautiful to resist! Here is one of them (worn in Kabul).

 
One week was far too short and has only strenghthened my desire to live in India, hopefully sooner rather than later. There's something about the place that appeals so much. No markets are like India's. No smells are like those you smell in India. All five senses are worked to the extreme, and I find it invigorating. Despite wondering whether 'shining India' (BJP's electoral slogan in 2004) would somehow change my feelings for the place, I think the fact that you can now increasingly have the rough and the smooth together makes it all the more attractive! Something tells me I will be spending a lot more time there.

A street scene that just shouts 'India', Bangalore

Tuqlaqabad Fort, Delhi

Oman - unexpectedly

I decided the day before the national Eid-ul-Adha holidays at the end of last year to take advantage of my few days off and make a trip to Delhi. (I really haven't updated this blog in so long... A sign of how busy my professional and social life has become!). I had a couple of friends in Delhi to visit. So, all packed up, I was taken to the airport but on arrival was told that the Indian Airlines flight for that day was cancelled. Apparently this happens often. There was no guarantee of the plane coming the next day either. 

Having mentally prepared to leave, there was no way I was going back home. I asked about tickets to other destinations such as Dushanbe (Tajikistan) and Urumqi (China), to where there are direct flights from Kabul. But there were no flights on that day so after some more thought I opted for the next flight to Dubai on Ariana Airlines - not the usual carrier of choice and I wasn't even sure if I was allowed to use it - and hoped to get an onwards flight to Delhi once there. Surely there would be loads of airlines from Dubai? Ariana Airlines - despite being "the national airline of Afghanistan", was operated by the Tbilisi-based Air Batumi and hence staffed by a team of surly and stern Georgian stewardesses. This, coupled with the predominantly Afghan passengers (unlike Safi Airways and Fly Dubai, which are normally full of expats) made for a fairly interesting flight.

In Dubai I made my way from Terminal 2, which seems to be mainly for failed, or failing, state destinations (Erbil, Baghdad, Mashhad, Kabul), to Terminal 1 to buy my ticket for Delhi. Much to my surprise, I was told that all flights were full for the next 2 days, apart from a 1st Class ticket to Delhi that was available. Willing neither to fork out for that nor to stay in Dubai for the holidays, I asked the ticket agent to give me options for any other flights leaving ASAP for anywhere in the region where I did not need a visa. Options given included Istanbul, Tel Aviv and Beirut, but then he told me there was a flight to Muscat (Oman) leaving in 1.5 hours. A prompt decision later and so Muscat it was! Before I knew it I was on the almost-deserted Swiss Airlines 30 minute hop to Muscat, arriving at around 1am. 

With no hotel booked, I made for the airport bookshop and browsed some guides and asked the cashier for recommendations. As is often the case in these countries, he thought I wanted to stay in a resort in expat-land. Having settled for a fairly-decent looking place in the book, I sped through the Muscat night along super modern highways - passing the incredibly colourful Sultan Qaboos Mosque, which was illuminated - and checked into the Safi Suites Hotel. This had the coldest air-conditioning I have ever experienced (and I am someone who loves air-con). The next morning, I opened my curtains into the dazzling sunshine to see what Muscat looked like, but I was confronted by a gigantic highway and a giant homestore. 'Can this really be it?!' I thought, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. I accosted the waiter in the restaurant at breakfast to ask where the action in this city was - because it certainly wasn't in the vicinity of the Safi Hotel Suites.

I settled on Muttrah, on the Corniche by the sea, and this was absolutely stunning! Approaching the curved shore lined by a slick avenue, white-washed buildings and backed by mountains, I felt I was in Monaco or at least the Costa del Sol. The hotel wasn't very nice (Hotel Corniche, I think), but I walked and walked endlessly in the sunshine, free of all the Kabul security restrictions, in awe of the beautiful architecture. The warmth and the open spaces were blissful.

The Corniche in Muttrah

Some interesting architecture along the Corniche

The next few days in Muscat were spent doing typical touristy activities. There were far more tourists than I had expected. A highlight was Bait Al Zubair, a museum of Omani heritage, which was excellently curated and a 2 hour introduction to all things Omani, ranging from history to artefacts to clothing.

I checked out the famous Muttrah Souk, which was full of winding lanes selling perfumes (especially frankincense), jewelry and gold ornaments. It was fairly interesting, but nothing on a par with bazaars in India or markets in China. In fact there was very little that I considered buying.

I also visited Sultan Qaboos mosque, which was an awe-inspiring feat of Islamic architecture, checked out the huge shopping malls that aspire to be like Dubai, and hired endless taxis t ferry me around this surprisingly spread out capital.

The food was a disappointment, mainly because it seemed difficult to actually eat Omani food. There were so many Indians in Muscat (almost all male migrant workers) that getting chai and samosas was easy, but to eat Omani food I had to make a trip to the other side of the city to a specialist restaurant. It wasn't really worth the trip - I had baked fish and some kind of spiced stew, but none of them were that memorable.

At Bait al Zubair - Museum of Omani heritage

Sultan Qaboos Mosque

Fort at Nizwa

On my last day I hired a car and made a trip into the desert south of Muscat, to the ancient capital city of Nizwa. The landscape was beautiful and the skies a gorgeous turquoise blue, but generally similar to Afghanistan (brown, mountainous, desert-like). Nizwa was a treat, and beside the fort there was the souk, which, although closed for Eid, still had several shops open. The pottery was impressive, if slightly unrefined, and I couldn't resist buying a chunky frankincense burner, which I use to burn Japanese incense in my room in Kabul.  After Nizwa we visited some more forts, such as Jebrin, and villages that were built on scraggy hillsides, defying the forces of gravity (Misfah al Abreen). The combinations of shadow and light in the forts, in particular  the silhouettes created by the sculpted walls, made the biggest impression on me by far. 

The highway back to Muscat

                                                                                       

Oman was completely unexpected, but turned out to be a pleasant surpise. Despite the evident new wealth in the country, you can feel the richness of the heritage and, importantly, the way that it is a source of pride for Omanis. This was evident in the preservation of traditional architecture (some air-conditioning units are even covered with white patterned boxes for aesthetic effect) to the shining white dishdasha robes the men wear. This was the lasting impression I got from my few days there.