Sunday, May 28, 2017

European Burrito Mission

It’s the time of year when kids are graduating, and some of the lucky ones get to travel abroad on their own. The first time I traveled in Europe-- with an oversized backpack and an Eurail pass-- I flew into Paris, trained to Barcelona and then crossed Southern France into Italy… all in less than a week. I couldn’t afford good French food, wasn’t a huge fan of Spanish tapas, and after eating great pasta and pizza for a few days, I couldn’t deny it any more. I had hit a wall. The Mexican food wall. I craved a carne asada burrito like you wouldn’t believe. Not only am I from Southern California where they make some of the best Mexican food in the world, but I’m half Mexican too, so it was in my blood. Fact: I desperately needed a burrito.  

Naive and foolhardy as it was, seeing the Colosseum became second to finding a Mexican restaurant. But there wasn’t Tripadvisor, Yelp, or any online help to locate such a place-- if one even existed. It was the year 2000. I had just recently opened my first email account and mobile internet devices hadn’t yet been invented. I’d had great food in Cinque Terre and Siena, but when my friend and I found ourselves stuck in Bologna for a few hours between trains, we made it our mission: We would find Mexican food, god-damn-it. So I started asking around, trekking up and down streets, sweating, weighed down by heavy backpacks, until we came upon it: Piedra del Sol. It looked like a poor man’s version of El Torito.

From the moment we opened the menu it was clear: This place was horribly overpriced. At home, Mexican food was cheap. In Europe it was an exotic import. But, at the time, we assumed we’d at least be overpaying for something satisfying. Unfortunately, this was not the case. Our chips were disgustingly stale. The salsa was worse than Old El Paso from the bottle. And the guacamole was made from avocados so hard that they shouldn’t have been considered edible. I don’t remember all the details of the chimichanga I ordered, but it did have many kernels of corn inside it and more green peppers than beef. Though it was supposed to have “carne asada,” the meat inside did not come close to resembling carne asada. The only reason I ate most of it was because I’d spent nearly 20 dollars and was on a very tight budget. We left Piedra del Sol disappointed and disgusted.

A smart person might have learned a simple lesson from this venture: Mexican food in Europe--if you can find it-- just isn’t going to be any good. I, on the other hand, decided to dig deeper. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, that afternoon at Piedra del Sol strengthened my resolve to eventually find the best possible Mexican food options on the European subcontinent, come hell or high water.

17 years and many European burritos later, I must admit that the search has been mostly disappointing. I’ve asked for salsa and been given a ketchup bottle. Ordered a taco and got ground veal in a crunchy, store-bought taco shell. I’ve had more than enough faux-Mexican experiences to discourage me from continuing my mission. But there have been some standout places-- restaurants and taco shops-- that have delightfully surprised me. They haven’t been outstanding. Think of them as places where fellow taco shop connoisseurs would take their first bite, nod, and say ‘pretty good.’ Thus, I would recommend these places specifically to the guacamole-starved, Mexican food-fiending traveler out there who can’t deny their need for assorted Mexican goodness wrapped in a tortilla.

Here are my Top 5:

Dolores reminds me of a place you might find in a hip neighborhood in San Francisco. They also have some unique, funky options that aren’t quite Mexican, but taste pretty damn good. It’s located just off of Alexanderplatz.

This take-out taco shop is modeled on the build-your-own concept: choose your type of beans, meat, and extras. I was impressed with the pico de gallo salsa and the shredded pork. Points off for pre-made crunchy taco shells; extra points for having Jumex and Jamaica! Burrito Loco is located a block and a half north of the main square in old town (plus many other locations).

Burrita Bar, Budapest
Also a Chipotle-like spin-off, you must choose wisely here. I don’t know who gave Europeans the idea that whole pieces of corn should go in a burrito, but it’s verifiably wrong. However, this is a build-your-own burrito place, so you can only blame yourself. It’s easy to find, on a nice pedestrian street in the heart of a wonderful the city.

Senor Zorba, Santorini (Greece)
Unlike the others, Senor Zorba is a sit-down restaurant with arguably the best view in the world. It’s owned by an Anglo-American expat who is delightfully eccentric and proud that she’s brought some Mexican food to the Greek isles. Though she over-hyped the fajitas and guacamole ("The avocados are imported from Israel, hun!"), the hands down highlight was the Mexican beer selection and the million dollar view. The only way you’ll find this place is with GPS.   

Cantina Mexicana, Ljubljana (Slovenia)
Another sit down place, Cantina Mexicana is about the atmosphere. The decor is rustic Dia de Los Muertos colorful, and the margaritas are good. I vaguely remember enjoying the enchiladas … or was it the beans? Like most decent European Mexican places, they get at least a few things right. Located just west of the river bend in the center of old town Ljubljana.

All pictures taken in old town Prague and in front of Burrito Loco.

Friday, April 29, 2016

The Baja of the Balkans

The first time I drove from San Diego down to Baja for a few days, I was 18 years old. One might think that the excitement and joy of crossing the border had something to do with drinking booze and being young and dumb.

But over the years I returned to Mexico again and again because the sense of adventure never really faded. Perhaps it’s just me, but there’s something liberating about driving south across an international border. Whether to Ensenada, San Felipe, La Paz (or Greece), there’s the escapist impulse-- the thrill of exploration, the search for a pristine beach, a non-touristy town, and the slight risk that comes with driving through foreign lands. I don’t live in San Diego anymore, but I’ve found my new Baja in the three peninsulas of Halkidiki, Greece.
Some call it “The Three Fingers.”
My favorite one is the middle finger—Sithonia.
It might sound like a made-up setting for a dystopian novel, or Andre 3000’s new recording studio, but it’s a real place in eastern Greece. It is my "new Baja" because I currently live in Bulgaria and only have to drive four hours directly south to get there. As I’ve found out, Halkidiki is a favorite hidden vacation spot for most Balkan beach-lovers: Bulgarians, Serbians, Romanians, and Macedonians.

And it is well worth the drive.

Muy Similar:

Like going into Mexico from the USA, the border crossing into Greece is quite quick. Beyond the sprawling industrial port town of Thessaloniki (pop. 1.4 mill.), there’s only the small coastal towns, pine forests, and olive groves of Halkidiki. Driving south here is similar to the feeling one gets exiting Ensenada or Mexicali going south, with miles of uninhabited terrain ahead. And it’s not just the warmer weather or Catholic/Orthodox crosses on the side of the two-lane road (marking where drivers have died) that makes Sithonia and Baja similar.

Perhaps the best thing—and a well-kept secret—is Halkidiki’s numerous, brilliant beaches. Sithonia is one of the most undeveloped and non-touristy coastlines in Greece. Like southeastern Baja’s shoreline, the area boasts crystal clear, azure water coves that can be accessed only by dirt roads. Between May and October, both the water and air temperatures are perfect. There are popular beaches with bar service, lounge chairs, and umbrellas—the ones that grace local postcards. These spots are crowded in the summer, but Sithonia (in particular) is blessed with so many beautiful beaches, it’s just a matter of making the effort to find your own private paradise. For instance, Karidi Beach is much photographed and marked on maps, but there are equally great beaches a few kilometers away. There are no signs. You just have to drive down a dirt path and see.

Like our neighbors to the south, compared to the rest of the Balkans, Greece is affordable. Compared to the rest of Western Europe, Greece is flat out cheap. I don’t think this is entirely due to the financial crisis that plagues Greece, but it definitely means that pension owners take what they can get. In Sithonia, it’s possible to rent a room in a guesthouse on or near the beach for 20 euros per night! There are only a few luxury hotels in the area, but nothing big or ostentatious. In fact, I don’t think there are any buildings over four stories on the entire peninsula. Campsites on sandy beaches are available as well, but if you don’t need electricity or running water, there’s the option to “free camp.” Now, free camping (sleeping in a tent wherever you want) is technically illegal, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen on a regular basis. With so many coastal nooks and crannies unregulated, it’s not difficult to remain at your isolated Eden and pitch a tent for the night.  

Like Baja, the local Greek food is awesome. No fish tacos, but there’s great seafood in every coastal town. My favorites are traditional Greek dishes like moussaka, gyros, souvlaki, spinakopita, tzatziki, and Greek salad (Yes, it’s still called a “Greek salad” in Greece). Dining patios can get lively, like something out of My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and if you’re not careful you will feel big and fat after a week of eating this delicious stuff. Desserts, like baklava, are often complementary and always rich. Ouzo, too. The best thing is that you can enjoy all of this cuisine on a blue and white balcony overlooking the Aegean Sea with the theme from Zorba playing in the background.

Also comparable with Baja California is Sithonia’s laid back, relaxed pace. Just being on the beach, with the sound of the water lapping up against the shore, seems to slow down time... Really slow. Though I appreciate the siesta time, travelers should plan accordingly. Don’t skip lunch because you might not be able to eat again until dinner. Not only restaurants, but it looks like entire towns shut down between 2 and 7pm. My fiancé and I tried to rent bikes at 1:45 pm and the owner of the rental place--honoring siesta more than his potential customers-- told us over the phone that we were too far away (20 minutes) to make it there before 2pm. Greek time. You can rent bikes tomorrow, he said. But this was the only inconvenient aspect of the laid back Greek culture we experienced. Everything else was a welcomed break from the frantic pace of work and city life.

No Federales, Guacamole or Border Lines:

How does this part of Greece differ from Baja? Well, aside from the obvious lack of guacamole, chips and salsa, Sithonia feels safer than Baja. “Feels” is the keyword because perception is everything (and often wrong). For instance, the per capita violent crime rate is actually higher in Washington DC and New York City than in Mexico City. Baja California Sur is the least violent state in Mexico. That aside, sometimes Baja can feel dangerous when you see a bunch of M-16-armed federales at a checkpoint wearing ski-masks to hide their identities so they won’t be assassinated by the cartels. This doesn’t happen in Greece. You don’t see many police officers, and when you do they’re sitting in 20-year-old blue and white hatchbacks drinking frappes. I also emphasize that it feels safer because Greece is no worry-free Shangri-La. Just ask my friend Thomas. He parked his Volkswagen on the side of the road to take his family down to one of those gorgeous, turquoise-water coves. When they returned, the windows had been smashed and everything valuable, passports included, was stolen from the car. They were stuck in Greece for four days. Having said that, it still seems safer. I have free camped in both Baja and Sithonia. Though I was not bothered on either occasion, while in Greece I didn't have nightmares about being ripped from my tent, called a cabron, and beaten before being robbed. In Sithonia, I slept soundly.  

Where the two regions diverge again is in the language department. I can speak some Spanish and--aside from the embarrassing mistakes or miscommunication--I enjoy practicing while in Mexico. Because Southern California is my home, it seems like everyone knows a little Spanish, right? Not the case with Greek. First of all, in case you haven’t checked, the alphabet is completely different. Aside from picking up kalimera, kalispera, and efaristo (good morning, good afternoon, and thank you), there’s a very long road ahead if you want to really learn Greek. Luckily, most Greeks (under the age of 60) are happy to speak English.

Another welcomed contrast is the border crossing on the trip back north. There are no two to three hour lines of traffic, with idle engines, endless amounts of vendors selling crap, and enough carbon monoxide to coat your lungs for days. Unless you are a European trucker (subject to strange boycotts and border blockades), there is no border wait at all. The average time to cross the Greek-Bulgarian border is about 2-5 minutes. It usually takes me ten minutes because they have to take my American passport in the office to stamp it. Sometimes the border patrol guys apologize for making me wait so long.
I just think of Tijuana's border traffic and laugh inside. 

Thursday, March 31, 2016

My debut YA novel...

-The Improbable Rise of Paco Jones is now available on and other online stores.  It has very little to do with travel aside from being a recommended plane or train read.

"Students with different backgrounds from their classmates may especially identify with Paco, an outsider in a strange place, shy but wise, his own heart a secret. But all readers should find plenty here to make them smile. A fun, amusing tale about the beautiful torment of young hearts and hormones at play." -Kirkus Reviews

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Around Bari, Italy: 5 Must-See Places

I've come to accept that pictures are worth way more than words on this visual Black Hole some of us call the Interwebs.

I could write some personal impressions--like 'Walking into ancient Matera's Sassi, I felt like one of Jesus's disciples might just ask me for directions,' or 'Polignano looks like a stop on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride'-- but I won't. If these photos interest you, then you might be inspired to take the next post-Post Modern step: Google it (i.e. search the Internets using the most popular search engine in the world) and find all that you ever wanted and much more. 

 (All the locations below are within 1 hour of Bari, Italy)

1. Matera (Sassi)

2. Monopoli

3. Polignano al Mare

4. Castellana di Grotte

5. Alberobello (Trulli)

Bari (Centro Historico)

Sunday, February 7, 2016

Barcelona: 5 Things to Do

Every popular European city has dozens of top 10 lists online, and much of them repeat the same famous landmarks and things-to-do. This list will repeat the big ones too because, well, they’re big for a reason. The only difference with my recommendations is that there’s always a tip to get a little bit off the well-beaten paths. Why? Super touristy is just not my style, nor is wasting money in des pièges à touristes.

Las Ramblas: This is on the top of many to-do lists because it’s a bustling, famous pedestrian street. In the summer it’s packed. Some search for the bars that Hemingway allegedly hung out at, but are now so overpriced that Ernest would surely run the other direction. In terms of shops, bars, and restaurants, Las Ramblas is a tourist trap. So check it out to buy T-shirts or people watch, then get off this crowded street. The side streets and markets just off Las Ramblas are much more interesting. To the west, Barri Gotic’s narrow alleys have the character and old world charm that you’re looking for. It’ll be easy to get lost on these medieval side streets, which will lead you—like the infamous Spaniard, Columbus—to some great ‘finds’! Some of my favorite Barri Gotic spots: La Palma Bar, the Picasso Museum, and Harlem Jazz Club for live music.

Plaza Real: Again, this place is no secret, but it doesn’t have the tourist trap feel if you go to the right spot. This old square is a good place to escape the hustle of Ramblas, sit down and get a drink. There are some great eating options as well. Les Quince Nits has an international menu, good food, reasonable prices and its outdoor seats are perfectly situated to soak in the 19th century square. If you’re feeling more like tapas fusion, stylish retro décor, and some transgender flare, hit up Ocaña—situated in the opposite corner of the plaza. If you’re lucky, a street performer will be playing tunes by the fountain—center stage. Side note: in Plaza Real there’s a 'hidden' bar in the northwest corner. It’s called Pipa Club, but there’s no sign. Just go to the unmarked door and ring the bell. Someone will probably let you in.

El Museo Nacional del Arte Catalunya: Walk toward Parc de Montjuic from the Plaza Espanya metro stop and you’ll be struck by the majesty of El Museo Nacional peering down on you. I happened to come across this palace on a jog and was immediately inspired—Rocky Balboa style! I ran up the hundreds of steps and beyond, making it to the 1992 Olympic Village where you can grab a view of southwestern Barcelona and the coastline. The views from this hill are great. I admit, I didn’t even go inside the museum, but the panorama is well worth the hike up there.

La Sagrada Familia: I’d been to Gaudi’s famous church 15 years ago and remembered its iconic east-facing façade. That’s all I remember because I didn’t pay—and probably couldn’t afford—to go inside. Last week I finally paid the 18 Euro to actually go in and, Jesus Christ, was it worth it! The grand architecture and style are mind-boggling. How awesome is La Sagrada Familia? For the first time in my adult life, a church made me consider re-embracing my long-dormant Catholicism. That’s powerful. In short, stand in line and pay $20 to go inside—vale la pena.

Park Güell: For another of Gaudi’s unique creations, I have the opposite advice: Do not buy a ticket. Situated in the cool neighborhood of Gracia, Park Guell is worth the visit but I was disappointed that they now charge to enter the most attractive, mosaic-rich part of the park. Not too long ago, I remember walking right in and sharing a bottle of wine on the serpentine benches overlooking the city. Now you have to wait in line, buy a ticket, and enter in 30 minute shifts to access this area. Thankfully, there are two sections of the park and one is still free. I recommend taking your wine up there, sitting down and soaking in essentially the same view—gratis.