Geography of Bliss

If you are interested in social psychology and how the conceptual understanding of happiness varies between cultures, then The Geography of Bliss: One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World is for you. Weiner travels across the globe trying to find the world’s happiest locations. He travels to the Netherlands, Switzerland, Bhutan, Qatar, Iceland, Moldova, Thailand, Great Britain, India and America in search of this aim.

While the subtitle of the book is, “One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World,” this is hardly fitting as Weiner is nowhere near as grumpy as other travel critics like Chuck Thompson. His commentary, unlike Thompson’s, is not as amusing or funny, but is in depth and offers real insight into the nations Weiner travels to in search of happiness.

Weiner begins his search by visiting the Netherlands, where a group of sociologists study and document happiness. This concept seems not only wasteful (time, money, etc.) but ridiculous in that happiness cannot be quantified (or can it?). Nevertheless, these professors have found a way to measure and assess happiness across the globe.

It was discovered that the happiest nations are the Netherlands, Switzerland and, in general, Western Europe, while the least happy are Tanzania, Rwanda, Zimbabwe and former Soviet republics like Uzbekistan and Belarus. This is not very surprising, claim the sociologists, since there is an obvious correlation between happiness and financial contentment, wherein the poorest nations are hardly happy. Meanwhile, they have discovered (thank god for science) that people with unstable governments and piss poor economics tend to be grumpy (no kidding!) while those who do not live in fear of their government or financial ruin tend to be happier.

Americans rank towards the upper fringes of the middle of happiness, meaning they are somewhat content but don’t take it too seriously. This is not surprising considering Americans have a plethora of problems to deal with but usually manage to do so while laughing. Living in China, many Chinese would ask why Americans view everything as a game or a joke. I laughed in response, but seriously I don’t know the reason.

It is interesting to think of the places we travel through in terms of whether they are happy or not. Uzbekistan, which we spent about a month in last year, was hardly an easy place to travel, and the government and ridiculous policies kept us from enjoying ourselves on a daily basis. Meanwhile, the locals seemed less than content, which is not surprising for an impoverished Muslim nation without resources or sound allies run by a government that thrives on nepotism and corruption. Why are the pawns unhappy, I wonder?

China (along with most of Asia) ranks quite low on the happiness scale, which also does not surprise me. We have spent roughly two years in China and while I’m sometimes shocked and impressed with the Chinese sense of humor, most of the time I find it depressing that the Chinese put so much pressure on themselves all the time and, given the Confucian hierarchy, they hardly let themselves joke around or have fun. But then, the Chinese find themselves in the middle of their ‘industrial revolution,’ which can be an awkward time for anyone.

This is a great book for any traveler who hopes to gain deeper insight into the places he or she visits, but at the same time, happy or not, the world over can only be understood via experiences, so get out there and experience more of it!

Island Flavor

Our cruise ship stopped in Funchal Island, owned by Portugal, which is a small island filled with wealth people, everything has to be imported, and nothing but bananas is produced there. The ship stops at this particular island because it has extensive upper-scale shopping and long tours around the island’s natural beauty. For the not-so-wealth (aka: us) the island offers surprisingly little. You can stroll up and down the streets window shopping at stores you’ll never be able to afford, or you can waltz into the magnificent churches to gawk at the gold-plated everything.

We chose to head to the local fish and flower market, where we watched elderly men gut and skin fish before chopping them into bits for waiting customers. Eels, shark and various other strange under-water critters materialized from under tables to be dissected

like bizarre outer-space science experiments. We watched until bile began to rise from the smell and sight of gutted mystery critters, and then moved on to the flower market, which had a much better smell. Some of the tropical flowers were more beautiful and colorful than anything I imagined existed on this planet.

Our stay on the island was brief, but it is a place we highly recommend if you have: A) money; B) time, and; C) a love of shopping.

Deck View

We took a 17-day cruise from Venice to Ft. Lauderdale on the MSC Poesia, which had stops in Italy, Tunisia, Spain, Portugal, Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico and the USA. We got a last-minute discount deal, which resulted in our tickets being roughly the same cost as a one-way ticket from Italy to the USA would have been and included 100 GBP of on board credit. Here is our assessment of the cruise:

For the amount we paid, we got a deal on transportation, food and lodging as well as getting to see a few more sites on our way back to the States. However, MSC cruises is not your average cruise line, it began as a cargo shipping company and continues in that capacity with most of the ships in its fleet. Perhaps as a result of those origins, everything on the ship is bare-bones. Everything costs extra, including water. This had the effect of angering a large number of the passengers, who are frequent cruisers and complained that the ‘cheapness’ of this particular cruise line was beyond annoying. Naturally, we did not care much, having literally backpacked our way through rainy Eastern Europe to get there, and were simply happy with having a room and food provided daily.

The food on board was fantastic and we were fattened up quite a bit while on board those two weeks. I imagine a kitchen staff that never leaves the galley from sunrise to well past midnight. It would have been nice, however, if drinks were included, and I don’t mean just alcoholic drinks, all that was available was water or iced tea. Alcoholic drinks were around $10 USD a pop, and hence entirely un worth it. The staff in our area were fantastic, both were from Indonesia, which I am excited to visit someday since our waiters were so friendly and attentive and downright fun.

The design and layout of the ship were nice, if not delightfully circus tacky. The evening entertainment shows were decent most nights, but some shows were so bad that one was left with a tingling sensation like when you first get up from the dentist’s chair. Their low-budget female singer who appeared on stage almost nightly was so bad that people would walk out when she came on stage. We were surprised that there even was entertainment, so we were happy with whatever we got, but cringed along with everyone else every time this lady singer tried to hit a high note and missed. Now I know how Simon Cowel feels.

The MSC Poesia was labeled a Texas Hold ‘em cruise, which is a poker game with no limits. On board there were daily tournaments, but buy ins were 120 Euro, much more than we could afford to wager, especially given only a few people showed up daily to play. This was a real disappointment as we had planned on making back some of the cruise costs at the tables, only to realized the risk outweighed the potential gains with only 4-6 other players buying in at 120 Euro – the pot wasn’t big enough for the gamble.

In all, we had a great time on the cruise and it was a good way to get healthy, fattened up and ready for our return to the USA. Having backpacked for the last 6 months, it was luxury we were not accustomed to, and we took advantage of the time to relax and rejuvenate and bunker down to have nice old fashioned dinner-table chats with the lovely Canadians at our table.

We stopped in Malaga, Spain, for a day to check out the town after hearing from other travelers that it was a “not-to-be-missed” destination. While this may be true for the more wealthy of travelers, it is not a hot-spot, so to speak, for backpackers. With prices in Euros, and the Euro-dollar conversion not in the our favor, we found Malaga to be an exorbitantly expensive town full of cafés, corny souvenir shops and an excess of establishments that catered directly to those disembarking of luxury yachts and cruise ships. On the main drag, several men and women painted their bodies the color of silver or bronze and stood still in various positions, pretending to be monuments. It was interesting to see so many talented people, several musicians, dancers and people in costume. We watched the chaos on main street for a while before heading towards the Picasso museum and exhibit, which we found swamped with tour groups and costing $10 a person for entrance, so we continued to walk around town, simply enjoying the unparalleled architecture of the coastal area.

We happened upon old town by accident and in the heart of the back alleys, churches and pubs we found Malaga Citadel and castle, which we paid a few Euro to enter. The castle rests atop a hill overlooking the harbor, and offered astonishing views of the town’s center as well. It was built by the invading and conquering Muslims, whose architecture varies from that of the rest of the town, making it a striking piece of architecture. The interior of the castle was recently renovated and looked as if the entire thing has been built only last year. With pools of fresh water cascading down into tiny gutters that ran the length of the walkways, it was as if we were walking inside the Prince of Persia video game, which was set in a Persian castle.

In the harbor we could see a galley ship made of wood and hammered metal and ventured down after our climb through the citadel to have a closer look. It was indeed a very old wooden ship, complete with sails, lockable window hatches and tones of rope. It could have been right out of a pirate movie.

The town was pleasant enough, but expensive and ridiculously clean and organized. After having traveled through Central Asia and the Caucus, the cleanliness and costs of the city were shocking!

We arrived in Bari, on Italy’s southern coast, early in the morning and decided to just walk around the city and absorb as much as possible on foot. It was Sunday, so the town seemed deserted with the exception of the churches. We walked around the old cobblestone alleys snapping pictures of people drying their clothes on lines stretched between the buildings, and waving at friendly people in cafes.

I think of Bari, my first image is of an Italian kingpin gangster in a pinstriped suit complete with a red carnation and a classy black hat. Wherever we turned that Sunday we saw Italian men in this outfit eyeing us skeptically. Every church we went into had a row in the back of the church were several men in these outfits sat whispering to each other while several rows of overdressed women sat before them praying or gazing around the church’s beautiful interior. I couldn’t help but imagine they were all in an international mafia, but perhaps they all just have the same tailor and an affinity for Godfather like clothing.

The churches in Bari are unbelievably beautiful. With ceilings that stretch into the sky, held up by marble pillars and cherubs, beautiful chandeliers, bright paintings and thousands of candles, they are much more awe inspiring than anything I have ever seen.

Bari Castle, on the coast, was a delightful but small structure. The interior was partially under construction so we did not pay to go inside, but enjoyed the exterior. A man with an accordion walked up and down the street playing Italian songs and singing along as people walked in and out of the castle. The structure has withstood a great deal, and although the moat is empty except for a few industrious cats and some litter, looks like it was built yesterday.

We did not have long to spend in Bari, but were delighted with the town, the churches, and the mysteriously suited gentlemen hovering in the churches.

Not at all impressed with Euro-rail as it was the most expensive train, without private cabins, and the lights remained on all night, the fog slowly lifted in the early morning to reveal our slow roll towards the Venetian Islands. As we stepped off the train, a welcome humid breeze met us on the platform, which was in large contrast to the weather we had experienced in the Balkans. Weighed down with our packs, we semi-aimlessly wandered up and over the bridges of Venice and down narrow alleys through which our bags barely fit. When we arrived at the first hotel option we had picked out, we were a little surprised to discover that it was fully booked for the next week.

After receiving a recommendation from the owner, we retraced our exact route back to the train station and headed East. We stopped and asked for a room at every single hotel to find they were either full or wanted 150 Euros ($225) per night. Luckily, we found a place for 60 Euro ($90) – which is by no means, what I consider a bargain and settled in. After unpacking and getting ready to shower for the first time in a few days, I pulled the money I had exchanged at the train station to discover that, unbeknownst to me, we had been charged a 20% service charge for changing $150 to Euros. We should have ended up with 100 Euro, but I only had about 75 in my hand. Furious that Italy would be the first country out of the 19 we had visited to charge a service fee for changing money and losing over 30 USD changing money, I marched all the way back to the train station and demanded that the transaction be voided.
After some arguing she agreed but warned that it would be that way everywhere in Venice – she was right. After all of this, we were free of difficulties for the remainder of our time in Venice. Although Lauren had already been to Venice several years earlier, I had not and found that it lived up to its reputation. It was enjoyable to walk around the streets of the Venetian islands and get lost. In fact, I would wager that it is practically impossible not to get lost in Venice. Even with a map, we got turned around several times. I saw a funny T-shirt that depicted two signs pointing in opposite directions to San Marco Square. It was quite the experience to see all of the old architecture, St. Mark’s Basillica and square – which was mostly under water when we were there, and the gondola owners sing to their customers as they rowed down the hundreds of small waterways going through the city. We sat in cafes, drank coffee and tea, as well as enjoyed a late night Venetian meal – all the things you are supposed to do when in Venice.

We highly recommend going to Venice, but be warned to change your money to Euro before you arrive in Italy. The emergence of the Euro has made the city nearly unaffordable to non-Europeans and we saw very few Americans while we were there. Moreover, we could only really afford to stay there 2 days – which was enough to do and see the main attractions.

We arrived in Ljubljana, Slovenia’s capital, three hours after departing Zagreb, the capital of Croatia. The train was a lovely design with six seats to a cabin with a sliding glass door. We had an extremely friendly Croatian lady in our cabin who was visiting Ljubljana to lay flowers at her family grave plot. The train ride went quickly and the customs officials were extremely efficient and friendly, and we arrived without incident.

Once in Ljubljana, however, things took a nasty turn. The information center at the train station gave us a map and a “good luck!” wave as we walked out the door. It felt a bit odd at the moment but we set off with our bags in the direction indicated on the map towards our hostel. After a grueling walk (our bags now way around 50lbs each) we arrived in the embassy district to discover the map was wrong, and we were now in the outskirts of town without local currency to take a cab or bus, and with no idea where to go. I sat on the ground and took off my bag. A cat jumped out of the bushes next to me and sat on my lap, cheering me up, while Mike consulted the map from the info center and compared it with the already miniscule and incomplete map in the Lonely Planet book. There was nothing to do but attempt to follow main roads until we found signs for old town, and then ask around from there.

The walk was made more humorous by the sheer ridiculousness of it. Mike had his large backpack on his back, which has a red shell on it for waterproofing. On his front he had a smaller backpack that also had a plastic red shell, he looked like a man smashed between two giant ladybugs. I had my pack, and my camera bag and our books in my arms, so that between the two of us we had not one free hand. Perhaps because of our pathetic appearance, we were approached by two travelers who suggested we go to their hostel. Seeing as we had no other option whatsoever, we followed their apt directions and arrived in time to grab two bunk-beds in the 6 man dorm. The dorm had a kitchenette, so we dropped our stuff and went across the river to the shop to grab some fresh veggies to cook with our seemingly endless supply of ramen. Other tenants came and went as we ate, warmed up, and enjoyed the hostel’s atmosphere.

The next morning we walked around Ljubljana in the rain. For us it is hard to imagine any country in Eastern Europe without rain now. We walked up the hill overlooking the city to the Ljubljana Castle, parts of which date from the 15th century. We expected an ancient, Dracula-like castle shrouded in mist and mystery, but were shocked to find a very modern structure that has obviously been erected over the older buildings. In one of the towers there was a modern art exhibit, which was so confusing it left us a bit rattled. There was a chair in the corner which you could sit on while a screen before you showed a spiraling hole, as if you were always falling but never reaching the bottom. Across the tower was a TV showing a play of an old man positioning models to paint them, but never quite getting it right. In the center of the tower was a chandelier which had been lowered all the way to the floor so you were looking down on it. We didn’t stay long in the tower, obviously, but once we mounted the steps in the adjacent building we found another art exhibit full of neon nude women petting various animals. We followed signs to a National Geographic exhibit to find a basement room filled with pictures of animals in yellow frames, rounding the corner we found a circular room filled with lights shaped like worms that glowed just brightly enough to make it extremely creepy. We left the castle after that.

We saw several of the city’s highlight sites, including the dragon bridge and the Franciscan Church, all of which were enjoyable. Our train left at 3:20am. We would arrive in Venice, Italy, at 7am. No matter how we try to resist night transportation, the logic of it always outweighs the discomfort it comes with and we jump right aboard!

Lauren really wanted to go ahead with our plan of 6 capitals in 6 days. Therefore, after our few enjoyable days in Sarajevo, we booked a night-train to leave that same evening. The train station was located right next to the Holiday Inn where journalists from around the world were holed up during the war. The buildings around the train station had not been renovated as well as those in the city center and Old Town. There were bullet holes and shell bursts visible all around.

Night-trains, in our experience, have been really nice cabins with bungalows and you get caught up on a lot of sleep while you save money on accommodation traveling to your next destination. These night-trains easily have been our favorite way to travel. This was a completely different experience. As we walked up to the platform, another train pulled up on the neighboring “paron”. As it came to a stop, a mad dash was made for our train. Lauren and I exchanged a quick look and then dashed toward our train. We have discovered that if the locals do it, there is a pretty good reason for it. What we soon realized was that there were no assigned bunks or seats on the train at all. People were running around opening curtains, cabin doors, and switching lights on and off in search for their preferred cabin.

We found an empty cabin that had no bunks and threw our packs on the chair. Everyone was searching for a semi-empty cabin. We were confused about the situation: Was this it? Would we change trains in the middle of the night? Are there no beds? This was, by far, the most expensive ticket we had purchased yet and it was Euro-rail, which has been said to be the best. The night continued as we laid down on the chairs and tried to sleep. Although no other passengers decided to join us in our cabin, there were several other issues that made this train ride the worst train ride of our entire trip – even worse than the corrupted police train ride from Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan.

We were lucky enough to have heat in our cabin. However, the knob was broken and we were pouring sweat. There was no way to turn it down so we were forced to open a window. Each time we passed through a tunnel, the window would slam shut and then pull all the way open. Moreover, over the course of only 6 hours, we were awakened more than 8 times to have our tickets and passports checked. This was mostly because we exited Bosnia & Herzegovina, entered and exited the Serbian controlled area (SR) in the North of Bosnia & Herzegovina, and then entered Croatia. 45 USD lighter each and 6 sleepless hours later, we arrived in Zagreb, Croatia. Then we found out there was no way to get out of the city! There was only one train for Slovenia, which left in the next 2 hours. We walked with our packs down to the bus station and got the usual tourist runaround just to find out that they didn’t have a single bus that went to Ljubljana, a neighboring capital, only a few hours away. Although the city square and architecture looked beautiful, we only had enough money to each breakfast in Zagreb – after purchasing another overpriced Euro-rail ticket to Ljubljana, the capital of Slovenia.