Boco (Dublin, Ireland)

Aaah... Dublin. A promise of liveliness everywhere you move, friendly people, music that makes you dance and stories worth to hear. That was the kind of expectations we had as the weekend before Christmas was approaching. I was going through the last days in my work, Tinka was having busy times in her work and school, plus as much as you try to ignore it, the crowds on the streets going crazy for Christmas presents just make you feel nervous. The colleague in work who proudly announced "she already had all the presents ready, since she started her search in September" did not add much to my high spirits. Thus Dublin looked as both: a great getaway and a chance to get some presents with green colours and a touch the legendary of Irish luck.

Tinka ready for Dublin

We flew over from Bristol in a small plane of Aer Lingus. It was so small it even had visible propellers instead of the kind of classic air turbines. When I was little, I was afraid of these kind of planes. Some kind of irrational fear made me think they must be more frequent to collapse. Fortunately, I grew up meanwhile and the whole journey went all right.


We arrived to Dublin and took the public transport to city centre. It takes just a few more minutes more than the direct "express" and is less than half the price. Plus we had to ask an Irishman for advice, and he turned out as a first of many proofs of the Irish friendliness.

Temple bar

We decided to take a walk in the centre before going to our hostel and experience Dublin in night. We did not realize it initially, but we kind of took the exact path through the party quarter. First O'Connell street, where people snack in fast foods before or after going to the being to pubs. And then the Temple bar street, full of 'em pubs, music and (mainly) drunk people walking around. As we were in tourist clothes, with backpacks and being quite tired, we did not really enter any of the places, neither we wanted to, really. But we decided to try the next night. After all, it is one of the must-dos. And the music seemed very inviting.

It was not, however, only the music in the pubs. Surprisingly, the streets were quite filled with buskers, even in the night and despite it being quite cold. The Friday night was not special and we have seen many other musicians throughout the weekend, most of them pretty damn good. It seemed as Dublin is ideal city for busking and music in general and although I now go through a quite period in my musical "career", I would like to go back to Dublin once and play... Somewhere, on the street, in a pub... :-)

Some (probably well known) busker/musician

We eventually got to our hostel, just off the main city centre area. The International Youth hostel in Dublin is very big and we found it an extremely nice place. It has a friendly staff, free breakfast in the adjacent lovely church (!) and is placed in a building that breathes of history and gives a unique atmosphere. The hostel is basic, but offers everything you need. There is no luxury, but rooms are clean and safe. There is no special service, but you can easily get lots of information you may wish for as a tourist in Dublin. I hope hostels like this will never disappear and even if I was super rich, I would still rather come to this place, rather than being "pampered in luxury" in some posh hotel for hundred of pounds. Those could be used better - perhaps as a donation to International Youth hostel!

Breakfast in church

The next morning we woke up to a sunny day in Dublin. Wohoo! Yes. It is a wohoo, though perhaps just a small one. There was a free tour in the city centre starting at 11am and one of our first findings about Dublin was that it does not rain nearly as much as people think. Hm, should we consider relocation from Cardiff?


We were assigned to a group with James, an awesome guide who, in less than 3 hours, made us feel like we've been born Irish. We got a sense of everything: accents from different parts of the country, important milestones in the history, fascinating (true) story of Veronica Guerin (just google it, and watch the film) or Irish humour which led to honouring non-existent people with a plaque on the bridge. Not a second did we feel bored and the whole principle is amazing. The tour is for free, but you can tip your guide. James mentioned it only once, yet I'm sure no one left him without appreciation. He wants to make the tour nice, and you just want to pay him.

Veronica Guerin.

One thing we did not try was the beers and pubs. James did mention, however a pub crawl taking place the evening and we decided to join in. We had some time to spend before that, and as we were hungry, and as I wanted to write this blog, we went for a pizza.


Boco was a tip from another tour guide, Peter, whom we met in the hostel. Peter lives in the area and so we trusted him with the choice. Entering the pizzeria, located not too far from the hostel, we had some doubts though. The street itself already looks a bit busy-ish and untidy-ish, not exactly a picturesque walking promenade with beautiful architecture. The first steps inside were even more hesitant, as we were met with almost empty place, with just a few people sitting behind the bar. However, our questions about pizza were answered positively and we were led to the (now completely empty) back of the restaurant, by the pizza counter and wood fired oven.





The interior is interesting, although by no means inducing pizza atmosphere. Some sort of metal nets make the borders of "booths" with the tables and benches. On one hand, this is quite in a modern, hipster-ish style and it can also be the case that this was a metal saved from the scrapyards. On the other hand, we did feel like in a cage a little.

Tinka - studying the map of Dublin very closely : -)

The pizza menu is simple, yet interesting, offering around 10 nameless options. We chose one "safe bet" - a tomato-based pizza with goat cheese, caramelized onion, mushrooms, rocket and some chilli oil - and one "experiment". That one was on a white base, with garlic, honey, pine nuts, ricotta and spinach. Wild, huh?

There was only one chef, but since the place was virtually empty, we did not wait long at all. Tinka started to examine the experiment, while I begun to admire the safe bet. One major point was scored straight away. The dough was indeed very good. Solid circles with proper crust, very well baked. No wonder, the temperature in the oven reaches around 500 degrees, as we were told. I must stop at this point and refer back to my recent post from Whistler, where I said that the temperature is not that important. Well, that was not very well put. What I wanted to say was more like this: if you have a good wood-fired oven, you should get a quality pizza base from it, regardless if the temperature is not exactly right. However, it does affect the type of crust you get. Too low temperature means longer baking and a crispy (more stone like) base, and less of the fire-licked char on the crust. The opposite for higher temperature. That's why this one was an interesting one, as the crust was more as if baked on the lower temperature and a little too much crunchy for Tinka's likings. Weird, huh? Well, possible explanation is that the place was quite, thus oven was not heated up to the max. But temperature is not the only thing that influences crispiness; the type of flour or ingredients in the dough matter too. Base and crust sound like simple things, yet it is a science on its own and I'll likely never really understand it, just like it is with women.

The "safe bet"

The "experiment"

The sauce was one from the "better standard" category, yet not too special, plus it could have been more equally spread over the top (it was mostly in the middle). A bit more olive oil on the top (or simply on the table to use by the customer) would help a little too, as it was a trifle dry on the outskirts. Other than that, I really liked the "safe bet" pizza and it did definitely woke up my taste buds, especially those that hang around in the spicy neighbourhood.

Tinka was meanwhile deciding whether she liked the "experiment", initially commenting in surprise: "it tastes sweet!". However, with each new bite, she turned more towards the "yes" option, with just occasional feeling of a distaste. I liked the combination straight away. Spinach with ricotta is a proper start. You cannot really mess up anything with honey. And garlic is simply my favourite. But an occasional bite still tasted a little awry and we eventually pinned it down to the garlic, which likely got burned here and there.


Overall, though, this was surely in the top 10 of my pizza hunts, at least when it comes to the actual pizzas. Service was really nice and friendly too, up for a small chat. We found out the place started serving pizzas only a while ago and had originally a Mexican kitchen. Had we come a week before, we would likely have a pizza for free, as the recipes were tried out and tuned with feedback. And although it was not perfect yet, stopping for food is definitely worth it already. Peter's recommendation thus can be confirmed as a good one.

Crowds of shoppers with "the Needle" in the back

Shortly after the dinner, we met by the Needle again for the mentioned pub crawl. James was there, as was his two Irish friends and few other travellers, some of them from the earlier walking tour. And although I am not really much of a pub/bar person, this night was fully worth it. We were taken consequently to 4 places. The first one was more of a typical sports bar, not really specifically Irish or one we would admire much. But we had some good conversations with our fellow group members, e.g. with a French girl whose dream was to work for a luxury brands like Bvlgari. Not really our cup of tea, but a good conversation, and we hope to have given her some food for thought, e.g. what is and isn't ethical when it comes to production of some luxurious products.

As a minor digression, I often think how to spread the good among people. One option is to do it the obvious way. Leave for somewhere like west Africa and teach or volunteer as a doctor. But another one, the less obvious, and probably harder way, is to go to one of these big corporations where all the money is and try to make a difference there. It seems counter-intuitive, "joining the evil businesses", but since that's where the money and power is, even a seemingly small change might have - perhaps indirect - but big positive impact. But as Tesco says (not that I'm fan of Tesco), "every little bit helps" and perhaps this French girl will remember our conversation one day, perhaps in Bvlgari, in a position where she can change things.

But back to the bars now. The second one was now much more awesome, much more Irish-ish (hm or just Ir-ish?) with a live musician Ray Scully. Ray was playing solo, however, with effects, superb usage of looper, mic and a drum occasionally played by his feet or on the body of the guitar, he sounded like a proper band. And although playing mostly popular covers, it was really good stuff.

After that, we moved on to another bar with live band, this time a bit too loud for our gusto and we could barely talk, or even hear properly some instruments. The best part of the evening however came in the last bar. With my guess at the average age being around 40, this bar was the most lively one, with people dancing and singing to a half-live band (mostly singing to accompanying backing tracks). Some true hits were played, Christmas songs could not be left out. Biggest thanks for our fun however goes to the James and his friend, who were instrumental in the fun of the whole evening. They made us sing, dance and their good mood was contagious. As I said, I am not one to party in bars, but if I ever was to enjoy it somewhere, it would have to be in Dublin.

Wellington monument in Phoenix park

After a short night of sleep, we checked out the next morning and decided to get a bit out of the main city centre area to see the monument in the Phoenix park. Tinka was a proper tourist and her eyes twinkled with everything in the city centre, but I hold the theory one needs to see also beyond what is meant for the tourists. And although the walk to Phoenix park is no excursion to ghetto, it does show some difference to the very centre of the city. Mainly architecture-wise, Dublin could be a bit less picturesque than in the centre, and definitely less picturesque than in UK. Still though, it is a nice city and it is clear Ireland has gone upwards a lot in the last half a century.

We ended our stay with a bit of souvenir shopping and a lunch in a Chinese restaurant and soon we waved goodbye to the evening lights of Dublin, back on the small Aer Lingus plane to Bristol. Did we really want to go back? Cardiff is a nice place. But there just is something about Ireland. The friendliness of the people for who it's always fun-time, the rich history to unravel and to learn from, or the omnipresent music from all around... We will be back, at least for a week next time. Meanwhile, be sure the Irish songs will be heard from our home in Cardiff.

Dough - 8
Ingredients - 8
Sauce - 7
Atmosphere - 3
Service - 8

Bongiorno (Michalovce)

Mid-October is that part of the year with the attribute "nothing special". It's not "summer", neither "winter", it's not "hot", neither "cold". It gets darker, rainier, but not usually not too much. Even the "Birthday season" is at its end, with just a few more people celebrating in that deaf period just after the "9 months since Christmas" (like Juro S. Congratz again Juro!). So in total, a dead, boring month with not much going on, which makes October the...

...SPECIAL MONTH! Paradox, isn't it, but than - when else is a better time to go home to meet your friends and family?! Yes, October is your guy! People for once settle into their conventional routine (which is very unconventional), flight tickets are cheap and let's face it: you're also bored to hell.

That was the case for me and my trip to Slovakia, 14-18th of October 2016. Well, I was not literally bored, but it started to be dark, cold and wet outside, I could no longer play on the streets, Toastmasters competition and treasurer obligations were mostly over, and it just felt like a good time to see some old friends :-)

I kind of got used to getting maximum out of every vacation or trip. This was not an exception but I still have to write "kind of used to", as the journeys have started to get quite hard-core (or I start to get old). I arrived to Košice airport on Saturday, 1am, on that flight from Bristol which I had taken couple times before. As usual, I fell asleep on the benches and later moved to the comfy couches. Having normally a light sleep, I nonchalantly threw my arm over the backpack thinking "that's good enough, if someone comes around, I'd surely wake up straight away".

I woke up at 4:55 from a weird dream where I could not stop a faulty battery from making a squeaking noise. It was my alarm, which was ringing for 10 minutes already (!!!). The airport was bustling with early flight rush and there were people all around me, but luckily, my bag was there untouched. I called a taxi (there was no public transport till 6ish) and got to the central station, where I had a bit of a breakfast and coffee, before hopping on a train.

Michalovce train station

My first stop was in Michalovce (nicknamed Michigan), where I visited Ondro. He's moved here for an adventurous journey in Teach for Slovakia, a program seeking to make a real difference in the parts of society needing it the most. The organization is very strict in the candidate selection, but it then provides high quality training and mentoring to the successful ones. Ondro's made it, and although it's now super challenging, from what I've seen, he's doing it GREAT, making difference already. Respect and really good inspiration, Ondro :-).

Weird urge to take selfie with Ondro and the oven

Jano, Ondro's brother was also visiting in that time and thus it should be no surprise we ended up making it a bit a of gastrotrip. We all slept till 10am-ish first though, a really vital nap for all 3 of us. We started off with some breakfast, continued almost immediately with a pizza from Bongiorno in local shopping mall, then shopped some amazing home made sausages and "škvarkys" (for more škvarky-related gastro-adventures, please refer to this blog post. Perhaps I should start a "škvarky-hunting" blog) and finished off the details in local grocery store. Only then we were ready for the actual trip to Poloniny, which was the original objective, although we still contemplated a visit to a restaurant with the best name ever: "džazero".


Btw, I have never really mentioned what's škvarky. The English translation seems to be "fried pork rind" and it's kind of a fried fat. But more importantly, as you may have noticed, I mentioned pizza. This was quite unplanned, but once Ondro showed me the Bongiorno pizzeria, there was no escape. We had to order one and thus we gave birth to this pizza hunt. Now, we'll do a simple maths here (perhaps Ondro, you can re-use in school?), and you will see why there was no other option than to get a pizza:

* Pizza in Cardiff: £10.99 ~ 12.5€
* Pizza in Michalovce: 2.99€

YES! You can have more than 4 pizzas in Michalovce for the same price, and that's considering the weak pound exchange rate after Brexit. Not only that though, these were baked in a wood-fired oven, right in front of our eyes. And though it's not always guarantee of a great pizza, you know ;-) it was this time.




We got just one (mind you, we'd just had breakfast! We know, of course, that it's healthy to eat just one pizza after breakfast!), a vegetarian option with broccoli, mushrooms and corn plus Ondro added our favourite garlic oil. I meanwhile went to get some coffee, leaving Ondro and Jano to do some documentation, but I barely got served and they already came with the fresh pizza in their hands. The waitress from the coffee shop came made us a picture - a pizza and a coffee for the second breakfast.

Already looking at the pie one could see a nice texture and a proper baking process. The crust got my interest first, its nice round shape and that desired soft & crispy feeling was the first major point of the pizza. Even better, it kept these properties for much longer and when we later "destroyed" the remaining slices at the start of the Ďurkovec hike few hours later, it still crunched under our teeth as before. The taste of the crust scored a point too, though it did not completely match the best I've ever had (perhaps a little more salt, or better fermentation process?).

Another positive surprise came with the taste of the sauce, which was just great, just as the mozzarella. I think not much more was necessary for a gourmet experience, and I'm sure to have that plain Margherita when I come back one day. This time, we had also the veggies on top and they did not disappoint too, although perhaps pre-cooking and extra seasoning of the mushrooms or broccoli would make it all 10% better. But even like this, I can positively say this was a pizza hunt in my so-far top 10, all for 3.29€ (including take away box): a DAMN good deal!

After this gastro-morning, we finally set off from Michalovce, basically in the direction of the north-east corner of Slovakia. We took a hitchhiker, a young chap who's joined the army. He described to us the life in the barracks and the drills they undergo, e.g. their trainers doing random wake up calls with screaming at 6am. It sounded quite tough, but then, it must be fun as well and a good experience.

We dropped him off in Sobrance and continued north, towards Podhoroď. Jano had an itinerary planned for us, which seemed to go as much off-piste as possible. We stopped at couple lovely wooden churches (think they were in Beňatina and in Inovce), one of them just being decorated by a local. After that Jano led us through a "shortcut" which tested the full potential of Ondro's car's chassis. Jano explained Ukraine is just a couple hundred meters away and that we might later go have a look at the border.

We stopped on the road overlooking a dam (think it was Starina). There was a car parked already and 4 guys were leaning against it, smoking a cigarette. The thing is, there's not really much traffic this far east and even if there is, it's mostly locals. Thus even licence plate starting with LC (for Lučenec, where Ondro is from) raised quite some interest and we heard the oldest saying "Look. Lučenec came." . We than had a brief conversation and I could feel the thoughts in the air after I said "I am from Bratislava". We continued by explaining where we aim to go to which the eldest said "Ohh, but you have to go to Runina! And than up the hill.. You won't make it..." . But I think it was more of a game, perhaps a test, whether "these boys from the west will get discouraged" . We didn't and not much longer later, we stood at the start of Ďurkovec hike in Runina.

Yeah I know, we should have rather called bomb defusers

Poloniny are not a very high mountain range so the hike itself takes just about an hour and half. It leads however through beautiful and quite untouched nature. On an information board we found out that this north-east corner of Slovakia is the only remaining in the country the light pollution still on level zero and where one can see the night sky properly, as it is. Another reason to come back, and make a longer trip along the ridge.

In the saddle

The ridge of Poloniny. Poland on the right, Slovakia on the left

Just amazing...

 


We had a quick snack at the top and then headed down. Jano still planned to take us to the Ukraine border, but we somehow missed the right turn in Ubľa and were driving seemingly nowhere (which, come to think of it, sounds like driving to Ukraine!). We turned around though, and head home, where we re-took the gastro-trip from the morning, with amazing pancakes from nearby restaurant, beer from local "culture bar" and few more snacks back home, before falling asleep, dead.

The next morning, I said the farewells and hopped on a 6am-ish bus to Košice, and later train to Poprad, where I was meeting Dominika, a friend from university. Knowing Dominika, she does not like waking up too early, and thus I appreciated even more that she found the time to meet : -) . I'm not exactly an early bird myself, and thus I fell asleep on the train, almost sleeping through the stop in Poprad! Think I'm no longer that light sleeper I used to be :/

Dominika is doing software analyst in Poprad, which consists of many things we were taught by mr. Plachetka in university - JOIN, LEFT JOIN and sometimes even LEFT OUTER JOIN. More importantly, though, she has a view over Tatra mountains, a perk no company in Bratislava or even London can match. However, we complained together over the fact there's virtually no jobs in the industry where we could do the same things as in uni.

Hm, it might have come through wrong, I guess most readers imagined alcohol and wild parties, thinking "why do you expect someone to pay for that?!". What I meant, though, is devising those nice algorithms full of knights and castles and their proofs which almost magically always tie everything together at the end. Those times were timeless but at least talking about it made me think about making the next "career" step again. Just a shame we forgot to take a picture!

After Poprad, I went to Važec, to meet my parents and see grandma. Although it was a short stop again, it was well worth it. You see, grandma is a special person, she has a gift to tell a story, and not only that. She can tell the same story hundred times and it never bores. I asked again for those from the war-time and made a mental note to record and write everything down the next time.

In Bratislava, I finally slept a full night, which was quite vital, as few hours into the morning I was laying down with my mouth open, teeth under the drill of the dentist. Its a funny thing, this "going to dentist". Nowhere else do you pay so much money for so much suffering. Also every time it's the same story - dentist finds a caries, she drills, you suffer and promise to yourself "I'll never allow that to happen again! From now on, I'll be properly brushing my teeth!" . Then, a week goes, and you eat a box of chocolate and say "what the heck, it does not hurt to skip the brushing once". And before you know it, the dentist is leaning down on you, with the giant drill she's probably bought in Hornbach to fix a kitchen table.

But, OK, now, I will REALLY brush my teeth properly!

  

Bachova crew

In the new Machnáč

With Milka and Andrej junior

In the tight schedule, I managed to fit in a few more encounters in Bratislava. To start with, an old school football at Bachova. Though we were only 4, it was a proper football, which was proven by spilled blood and I still have the souvenir on my elbow. Following was a typical reunion with friends in Machnáč, which was not so typical since the whole place was completely renovated! The next morning I went to see Milka and her new beautiful joy and there was still time for that nice autumn walk with my parents (by the way best parents in the world) by lake Draždiak...

Yes, October might be a boring month. But then, it's up to you: sit bored home, or go visit someone. And chances are that someone will visit you. Perhaps me ;-)

Dough - 9
Ingredients - 7
Sauce - 9
Atmosphere - 6 (this was a takeaway)
Service - 6 (this was a takeaway)

Pizza Express (Cardiff)

After the enormous last post from Whistler, this one will be a fairly short one and keeping straight to the point. So off we go.

We got some 50% off vouchers for Pizza Express and since I've never been there, I figured it would be a great way of combining a romantic evening with Tinka with some pizza hunting. Off course, it was mainly about the romantic evening! :-P .

Actually, (to drift off the main point right at the beginning) I had applied to Pizza Express once, before coming to the UK in September 2015. It was a funny period for me where I kept pondering life choices and contemplated ditching IT for something else, at least for a while. And since I had fun making pizzas the summer of 2012 in US, it seemed like an obvious choice. But since applying for a pizzaiolo position on the internet is like trying to hit on girls with programming jokes (it does not work out and you look like a weirdo), I did not get it. And luckily, I didn't get it, I must say, although I did become a full time pizza chef for a few months. That was, however, in Real Italian Pizza Company, which I found through a really funny coincidence, described in one of the previous posts.

Pizza express remained, though, an unchecked point on my list. On the internet it all seemed very good: "traditional" here, "Italian" there... Furthermore, quite a few colleagues from Real Italian used to work there and thus I felt like checking for myself.

We paid a visit to the branch on Saint Mary street. Though on a mid-week evening, the place was quite full, but then the location by the Castle is simply priceless. The atmosphere inside was quite cozy, although perhaps a little too much, as we sat at the table so close to the old ladies next to us, that we felt like on a family grandma outing (a bit of exaggeration there, but bit of truth too).

We studied the menu - there's quite a few options and even different types of pizza base. The "classic" one is a bit smaller and thicker (though we realized this only once it came) and also less expensive, while the other one (Romana) is, well, the opposite. We decided to try one from each: Classic Soho 65 and Romana Padana. The first one is kind of a typical-ingredient thing with buffalo mozzarella, rocket, parmesan and black olives, while the latter is more of a goat cheese, caramelized onion and garlic oil sorts.

The pizza chef was no longer busy and started our order pretty much straight away, so the "express" part of the restaurant's name definitely ticked the box. Wonder, though, if the same would happen on a busy day, as I heard the trend is to keep the staff on a "just enough" level. On the other hand, the process in Pizza express is much simpler than the one in Real Italian: pizzas are baked on trays, which makes life easier for the chef (e.g. there's no sticking to the stone in the oven), though at the expense of a  less properly baked bottom. Also the ovens are different, so called "deck ovens", stacked on each other, and likewise easier to manage than wood-fired ovens. Finally, many of the ingredients, including the dough, are brought in ready to use, rather then prepped fresh.

We observed the chef a bit and I cannot not comment - he looked a bit sad, like if he was fed up with the job. Of course, it's all speculation but we both felt the same way and, well, sometimes you can literally "taste the chef's mood" in the pizza. The service was better, at least up on the surface but again it felt a bit as if they had enough under the hood. Be it as it was, we smiled for this picture, with all the honesty, as usual.

I started off with Soho 65 while Tinka grabbed Padana. So let's taste that traditional Italian thing that made Pizza Express break through! But already the first bite already hinted I'll write no poems about Pizza Express. I guess the biggest disappointment came from the crust. I truly expected more. Especially the classic, Soho 65 pizza came on a thick, gummy and tasteless base. It could be just a bit undercooked but I think that was only one part of the problem. The crust was simply not enjoyably on its own, and I can imagine it comes down also to the freshness of the dough.

Soho 65

Soho 65 was, however, a disappointment in general. I recall the ingredients there, but the taste was just missing. So was olive oil on the rocket, which ended up quite dry, and just "thrown over". I tried to compensate it with chilli oil, but that one ended up tasteless too, far from what I call spicy. I guess garlic oil would have helped bring in some taste, but it was not around and thus overall this was one of the worst buffala-rocket-parmesan pizzas I've ever had.

Padana

 

On the positive side of things, Padana scored some good points, especially with Tinka, who really loved the caramelized onions, although they too come imported. I liked them as well, especially with the mentioned goat's cheese or garlic oil. Even more important for me, the pizza was bigger, thinner and (perhaps for that reason) more crispy, although there still wasn't any of that nice round tasty crust which I enjoy so much in Real Italian.

What to say in conclusion... I definitely expected more. Although Pizza Express presents itself in superlatives, I could not find any. The price was not among the cheapest (~ £10 - 12 for a pie), quality failing expectations, service trying their best, but yet unimpressive, and pizza chef far from including any enthusiasm as that extra, free, but very vital ingredient. There's quite a few pizzerias in Cardiff and I had just scratched the surface, but one recommendation can be already made. If you find yourself by the castle, head past Pizza Express and turn left at the first junction. You see that church in front of you? Around there you will find Real Italian Pizza Company. And some proper pizza for the same price.

At least we had that romantic evening : -)

Dough - 3
Ingredients - 7
Sauce - 6
Atmosphere - 6
Service - 6

Creekbread (Whistler, Canada)

"So how long are you guys here for?"
"About two weeks"
"Sick..."

The way he said it was as if we just admitted to drinking our own pee, like Bear Grylls does. Luckily, we did not have to do that as there's plenty of water in Canada, and we later found out that "sick" is just a way of acknowledging the others in discussion, especially in a hippie community. So e.g. the following conversation is perfectly valid:

"I had an absolutely ordinary day"
"Oh man, that's just sick!"

Shortly before "the sick ride"

We were hitchhiking from Vancouver to Whistler and got stuck halfway through, in a town called Squamish. Plenty of cars were passing by but it just wasn't as easy as we imagined. Canadians are nice, but perhaps not as used to picking up people, especially two big guys with giant backpacks.

In the end, one American stopped and we hopped on. His van was full of stuff and I got the unlucky seat in the "cargo area", where backpacks and guitars were constantly falling down on me and an over-friendly dog was munching on my trousers. In the front, Juro was attempting a conversation, but every attempt ended by our driver saying "sick" followed by a 2 minute silence.

It took another ride with two Indians high on pot and a decent walk from the town centre, and soon we were knocking at the door of a beautiful cottage, one of the two Slovak houses in Whistler. And as fate would have it, our friends from uni - Tina and Mima - live just in those two houses!

We had a good night of sleep and decided to do a warm-up hike the next day. As it starts to be a trend on our trips, both me and Juro started to get slowly sick (as in unhealthy this time), plus Juro had some difficulties with his knee. So we decided to take it easy, and chose Wedgemount lake hike with only 1000 steep meters of elevation, almost all of it in the forest.

Up to Wedgemount lake

That's actually quite a difference to the hiking in Tatras, where one often starts high enough already and reaches the alpine after only a few hundred meters of ascent. Unfortunately, due to a late start and not much of a luck with hitchhiking, we did not reach the lake in time and had to turn around a bit before the end. So all in all - lots of effort and no views :-(

We made up for it, however, the next day, when Tina took us for a two-day hike going through Garibaldi Lake, to Panorama Ridge and down via the valley to Cheakamus Lake. 4 other Slovak girls from Liptov joined us (or we joined them?) and off we went to the mountains!

It started off in a similar way - lots of ascension. Not as steep, but longer for a change, all the way to Garibaldi lake. Being one of the most scenic places around Whistler, there was quite a lot of people on the trail and it was not till we left the lake for Panorama ridge that the crowds got thinner. Part of the reason was that it started to get late and most people slept by the lake, where it is officially allowed. We, off course, went back to the lake too, to comply with Canadian rules and regulations. Wink ;-) .

At Garibaldi lake

Beautiful British Columbia :-)

From Panorama ridge

Look at the valley we took on the second day

Iceland-like nature around Panorama ridge

But let's just suppose we did not come back to the lake and slept by Panorama Ridge. In that case, the story might have continued like this: Juro had a bit of trouble with his knee, so he eventually stayed under the peak while the rest of us climbed up for the amazing views. Girls decided to camp right up there on the ridge while I returned to the little wood below where Juro was waiting. We pitched the tent since it was getting dark and although the day was nice and sunny, temperature was dropping quickly with sunset.

We had a bacon burger (the typical hiking food, right?) and went to hang the rest of the food on a nearby tree. The reason is that there's many bears around Whistler and you don't want to have an impromptu visit in the tent in the middle of the night. I can imagine a bear would quite enjoy such a bacon burger. And we had 6 more. But a bear up here (about 1900m above sea level)? Hah, no chance...

Fatigue got the best of me soon and a I fell asleep, while Juro stayed up reading his tablet. I woke up suddenly few hours later as he made an unnaturally loud cough. I asked "what's up", to which Juro replied "We have a bear here". The way he said it reminded me straight away of an old tactics game I used to play (Jagged Alliance 2). You'd have mercenaries in a sector, which would suddenly be invaded. Dramatic music would start to play and one of your soldiers would announce "enemy's here".

Our camping place

Tina hunting for burgers

This bear was, however, quite likely a nice guy, and all he did was walking around our tent. Plus the moment we started to talk, he seemed to have gone away and we no longer heard him. Still, though, it was a bear, so even a nightly out-of-tent visit to a toilet had a touch of adventure.


The following morning was foggy with a promise of a rainy day, but we were at least happy to find our food untouched on the tree, and enjoyed a burger straight away. Liptov girls were going back the same way to get their car, while Tina caught up with us to continue down towards Cheakamus Lake. The trail this way is much less steep, but longer and we had a burger each to get some energy. It also rained off and on all day and by the time we got to the parking lot, we had enough. Unfortunately, public transport is scarce in the area and without a car, you're left with a bonus of a few more boring kilometers to the main road. Luckily, halfway through we hitched a ride with a family of 5 who had an extra row of seats at the back and who took us straight to Whistler, straight to a place selling burgers (for a change) for 4.95$.

Juro cooked an amazing lečo that night and I made burgers. Ha, just kidding, I made a chocolate cake. With the right people, guitars and an atmosphere of the "chalupka" (cottage), it was an evening in the style of a skiing trip, one to remember :-)

Lečo Party

Another trip on our trip was looming ahead on Friday. Canadians have one free Monday every month, perhaps to counter the low number of vacation people usually get. Either way, I kind of like the idea since it means everyone has free time and people can go on a trip together, as we did.

Car jam

There were 2 cars coming from Whistler and 2 more from Vancouver and we all aimed for the same place, Tofino, a town on Vancouver island, on the coast of Pacific ocean. Famous for its great surfing waves, local brewery and rainforests by the shore, Tofino is worth to visit by all means. Even the journey, including a ferry from Horseshoe bay to Nanaimo was worth it, for the beautiful elements of nature around, and us Slovaks singing "Zigo, na pi.. ti dam" by Horkyze Slyze.

Ferry jam

We (of course) slept all the nights in paid camps and hostels, but for the heck of it, again, let's suppose we didn't.

Some bums at Kennedy lake

We slept the first night by Kennedy Lake, about 30 minutes drive from Tofino. The idea is you pitch the tent late and pack it up early in the morning, before the ranger comes, leaving nothing behind. And the ranger will come. At first I was thinking "why is there so many bans, fines, rules and rangers?", but later on I understood. Canadians want to preserve their nature, and mostly their wildlife, which features the mentioned bears or (e.g. here on Vancouver island) even wolfs. And if tourists just started to camp anywhere they'd like without any restrictions, it would have an impact on the environment, and likely lead to conflicts with the wildlife.

This way - with rules and rangers checking everything - you can still make it, though the idea of a coming ranger makes you pay extra attention and respect to the environment, which, after all, is what it is about.

In the morning, we rented the surfing gear in a shop in Ucluelet. There was a really cool dude working there. All the things were "cool" and "awesome", his trousers were hanging all the way down by his knees and he even charged us one day less (not sure that was a conscious choice :-) ) . Awesome, dude!

Me and Juro got one board and one wetsuit, and it proved to be just enough given how demanding surfing is. As beginners, we were advised a foam-board, but when I tried one of the hard-boards on the second day, I already found it better - it was easier to get behind the breakpoint, or simply to navigate in the waves.

All in all, I really fell in love with surfing. Perhaps we just had ideal conditions, but rocking on the waves by the sunset, with friends around, awaiting the right wave and finally getting a successful 15 second ride powered by the force of the ocean... Amazing feeling. Of course, there's other 20 times when you fail, drop the nose of the board into the water, get washed over as in washing machine and struggle to come back against the strong waves for 15 minutes. But that one time when you make it, it just makes you turn to the first person next to you and shout "Wohooo! So much fun!".

Others seemed to have enjoyed the surfing just as much as me (SurFeris): Juro (SurDuris) spending 4 hours in water at once the first day, despite almost coughing his soul up during the time on shore, Mima surfing the whole day after she could barely move her arm on the first evening (probably from all the surfing), Pali waking up at 5am after 3 hours of sleep, so that he does not miss the forecasted waves and almost everyone talking about "the best surfing experience".

As the night was approaching on the first day, we started to think about the place to sleep. Wild camping is super difficult in the area - places to set up a camp are very scarce, most of them are on private land and the rest feature a sign saying "no camping". One like that was also on Cox Bay and thus, as law-abiding citizens, we set up a camp with 7 tents and a camp fire right next to it! (keep in mind, dear reader, that this is all hypothetic, we stayed in a cozy hotel all the time!) .

Some hobos on the beach...

If the Lečo party was one to remember, this was one to carve in a stone. I don't recall a camp fire party with so much singing. I think we've exhausted all of my songbook and followed with Slovak folklore songs. And although thousands of kilometers from home, I can say I haven't felt more Slovak than on that Canadian beach that night for years.

The morning came quickly and when we woke up there were already surfers and surfing schools on the beach. We quickly packed up the tents and covered the fire place but made a mistake of staying at the spot with all our stuff, being obvious as a 100 meter long branch ("stometrova haluz"). I went for a stroll and just as I was coming back, Pali stopped me on the way, pointing to a ranger coming to our group. Long story short, it was a fine, albeit very small one. The ranger was strict, but fair and he knew he could not just let this be, otherwise word would spread you can camp on Cox bay. We could have ended up with much higher fee, and to be fair - we deserved a fine for being so slow (Slavo was actually still in a sleeping bag, but ready to argue with the ranger that we did not sleep there :-D ) .

The party, surfing on the next day and worsening weather took its toll and after two days we looked like real hobos. A dinner with a hot Chowder soup in Ucluelet was a very welcome treat and we were ready for the bed, I mean, wet and sandy tents and sleeping bags, again at Kennedy lake. Juro was especially wasted and I think it's because he refused to try out a secret recipe we devised and which, I am sure, will be passed on for generations by grand mothers when their grandchildren get sick:

1. Undress down to underwear
2. Jump into a cold water, preferably mountain lake
3. Pour a sachet of Coldrex in your mouth
4. Wash down with 2 shots of Borovicka (or equivalent Slovak liquor)
5. Wait a few minutes and you should be fu.. I mean, just wait a few minutes!

We woke up to another foggy and rainy day and went to return the surfing gear in Ucluelet. There, we had another funny experience when a (slightly high) Canadian started a conversation with us in a local store:

Guy: "So, where are you guys from?"
We: "Slovakia"
Guy: "SICK! Good times!"

I turned away pretending to look at postcards, barely holding the bursts of laughter. Mima was admirably composed though and managed a straight face while saying something like:

Mima: "So you guys went surfing too?
Guy: "Yeah"
Mima: "Sick"

Before going home, we decided to do a small hike to Radar beach, leading through a rainforest trail. Although just about hour long, the trail is fun and one really feels like in a jungle. The beach itself is worth it too, providing an atmosphere of a remote, forgotten place, where one can ponder their life meaning...

After this we slowly started heading home (i.e. Whistler). The prolonged weekend was almost over and there was plenty of cars coming back from Vancouver island, so we had to make sure we'll fit in a ferry, preferably one that won't go too late. At the ferry terminal we had a feast featuring "all food that was left, thrown on the table" and decided to say goodbyes with the other car at the other side of the bay. But as if fate would have it, our car fit on the ferry as the second before last while the others stayed a few places in the queue behind. Since Katka and her friends were going back to Slovakia, we separated without saying goodbye, but I'd rather take it for a sign we'll meet again!

We spent the next few days mostly in Whistler. Weather wasn't good and there's not too much one can do in that case. Juro decided to make a cake and we went to Tina's place for a baking tin. However, she was on Skype at that point and we somewhat automatically and subconsciously aimed for a cozy place in the middle of a living room, grabbed two blankets and woke up only two hours later when Tina passed by saying "no čo vy dve mrochty" (not really far from "what's up you too lazy poos") .

Supersize me on a projector - for extra details of 'em burgers!

Yeah, those were lazy days peaking with watching "Supersize me", basically a documentary about what will become off you if you're a lazy bastard eating burgers. That was a kick in a butt and the next day we went for MacDonnalds.


Just kidding, the next day, we rented a dual suspension bike. Tina was kind enough to lend me hers, and so we were ready to go. Juro was all psyched up, which is no surprise since he was talking about biking and his bike more than Donald Trump about immigrants (but in a positive way, I mean). I liked it too, but also kind of made up my mind that I won't be a biker. For one, I found it a bit dangerous sport. Secondly, I quite honestly sucked at going uphill. But most importantly, I just like other sports more :-) . But never say never.

Whistler in background

To be taken seriously

It was around this time of our trip that we saw a bear. We've been looking for one since we arrived, always faithfully taking the trail through the golf course when going to town since people were telling us "go through the golf course, you will see a bear!". Liars. As if bears ever played golf (we all know they prefer baseball). We also looked for one at Lost lake or in the woods by Alta lake. We almost hoped it would jump at us from behind the bushes, and scare us to death. But nothing. Disappointed, we were just coming back from the Lost lake, already almost in the centre when - boom! - a nice small black bear would cross the road in front of us. Nonchalantly, calmly, as if he did it every day on his way to shop in the supermarket (actually, we heard later on that sometimes bears would indeed come down to the town, and e.g. go for a pizza in local pizzeria (pizza hunting!). If you find it funny, well, do know that such bears would probably be shot :(  ). Knowing there's bears is one thing, but actually seeing one is a completely different thing. Now we know it was not all lies!

Isn't he beautiful?

And also around this time we took our pizza hunting rifles off the hooks, put on pizza hunting hats and got out there in the wilderness, targets aimed at the wild pizzas roaming the mountains of British Columbia...

Our fine hunting sniff led us to Whistler Creekside village and the Creekbread restaurant, one on which everyone I asked agreed as being the place to go. Already entering the place, there were hints as to why. A huge stone wood-fired oven dominated the large open-space with bar, kitchen and customer seating all connected for the right atmosphere. I could almost see the skiers and snowboarders in the winter, entering the place still in their boots, instantly warmed by the sight of the fire in the oven and hungry for their favourite beers and pizzas... But even in the summer, the place had a great character. A bit laid-back, I must say, far from the hustle-bustle of e.g. my Italian pizzeria in Cardiff. Here the cooks looked really chilled, caps worn backwards, taking time forming balls of the newly mixed dough, talking and laughing. Even the waitress serving us was super chilled, as if just getting out of freezer, but she can be forgiven since she was Australian.

We were advised that we can do different halves for each pizza, so we ended up ordering 8 different halves on 4 large pizzas. While we were waiting I had a closer look at the oven. The guy running it said it was custom-made and temperature there was around 600 Fahrenheit. Not bad, but I thought it would be more, though I guess oven of that size is not easy to heat up much more than that. Not that it would be necessary - the important thing with wood-fired ovens is the flame giving nice char to the crust and the stone taking care of the bottom. And it didn't really take long before we could take this picture. Smile!

Think one of the best pizza hunting pics ever :-)

So - first impressions? Good. Solid slabs of pizza, covered with lots of ingredients that were not saved upon, dough properly baked. The crust was soft and slightly crispy and quite tasty on its own, although it could have had more of the wood-fired char. Base was ideally thin and was covered with different kinds of sauces (tomato sauce, or rosemary cream sauce). Nothing that would get stuck in my mind, but nicely complementing the pizzas. Some ingredients seemed not of the best quality (beef) or could be better seasoned (mushrooms or onions). My favourite was definitely Coevolution - a combination of goat's cheese, the white sauce, vegetables and a bit of garlic oil was one of the most expensive ones, but well worth it. On the other hands some of the meaty pizzas were not as good as they looked from description, but as we were hungry, they disappeared just as quickly.

All in all, Creekbread does not really make proper Italian pizzas, but then, all things considered (:-P), that's not what they aim for anyway. Great atmosphere fitting the environment, chilled yet friendly service (I was even asked for a url to this blog when Siska mentioned that we were on a "pizza hunt" :) ), big pies filling the empty stomachs and solid quality make the place one to visit and leave not disappointed.

To complete the gourmet experience, Juro served an excellent cake the day after as a thanks for our hosts for hosting us. You see, as we were told, the cottage where Tina lives is one of those houses where they always have guests. Just during those two weeks, they had us, Tina's two friends for a few days, another guy staying for a month (with a funny name "ončura", Slovaks know why :-P), and actually some of this guy's friends camping on the backyard. Other than that, they had visits from some Slovaks living in a RV to use shower and internet, friends and girlfriends staying here and there, couple parties and dinners and it could just as well be there was a moon-walking bear in the house, but no one expected to see him, so he'd be missed. (No kidding, a story was told about another, similarly busy Slovak house. One evening, all 5 residents were finally alone, having a dinner, when the door opened and a stranger that no one knew came in saying: "I heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that I can sleep here")

After the party Juro's and my paths split for a while. Juro went to United States of America, country where big dreams become reality. And since Juro always dreamed of having a proper a bow, he ordered one, with delivery right to Blaine, just across the borders with Canada. His sub-quest was also to get us a proper, unhealthy, lowcost, greasy and fat US Burger from a local fast food, but Blaine proved to be the end of the world without any place selling such gems... At least he could use "I'm getting a US Burger for my friend" as a trustworthy explanation for a US officer, when questioned why he was ploughing several hours with 2 backpacks across the border to US (since "I'm picking up a deadly bow with arrows, for shooting" was not a recommended option).

As for me, I opted to stay a day longer and go for one more hike. When would be next opportunity to hike in Whistler? Šiška was sick since the Tofino trip, but she already planned a hiking trip to Mt. Currie, the highest mountain towering above Pemberton. With elevation over 2600m and starting point at just about 400m, the plan looked suspiciously optimistic to me: start at 3pm on Friday afternoon, go as high up as possible to set up base camp and climb the peak the next morning, returning to Whislter by 5pm the next day. Hmm. I searched in my memory for the hikes to Kriváň or Rysy - those were whole day efforts with considerably less elevation gain! Where was the catch? Was there an elevator to Mt. Currie somewhere?

The answer is - no catch! Šiška and her two Australian friends Thomas and Hannah simply put on turbo mode. I barely blinked and few hours from the start we were at 1850m, on Mt. Currie meadows, setting up a base camp with the last minutes of daylight. Other reason was that the hike itself is not as long, it's just super steep. Combine both things (turbo mode + super steep) and I had the best cardio exercise ever, basically breathing louder than a vacuum cleaner in a need of repair.




Luckily, we were at least spared the first few boring kilometers of the trail. Thomas had one of those pickup trucks, some kind of old Chevrolet Silverado or similar. A big machine that especially American businessmen in Texas tend to buy, usually for no apparent reason other than that it is huge, makes noise and thus supports their ego. Usually they also add-on a heavy-duty tow-away reel hook, as an extra trump in case their neighbours get a similar truck. However, Thomas made an actual use of the machine, plus he got it for amazing 900 dollars. The off-road journey up the hill was almost worth it on its own and we had fun barely falling off the cargo area :-) .

The next day we woke up with sunrise to a nice day. Unfortunately, Mt. Currie and his friends did not feel like revealing themselves and kept a dense fog around. We left most of the stuff in the camp and started the climb. Soon the trail lost a proper marking and we often only guessed the way, only to find a pile of stone later, indicating we're still on track. And on track we were - albeit to a wrong peak. We found out only when we climbed up and could not go any further, while Thomas's watch still showed elevation just over 2400m. We found a heli-port and some weird round structure and Šiška recalled it was probably South Mt. Currie peak, one that's often used to heli-drop skiers in the winter. We opened up offline google-maps and found out our true peak is about 1 kilometer away. Through the fog, with little supplies (well, I carried 5 burgers, but they tasted horrible and would think twice to eat them even in emergency) and people freezing in the cold, we decided for a retreat. After all - there wouldn't really be any views anyway. Thus I completed a trio of unfinished hikes this summer: Moldovenau in Romania, Wedgemount lake two weeks before and Mt Currie. But, as Bear Grylls would say, "survival is about knowing your limits", so I think it was a right choice. He'd also eat a big spider the next minute, but not everything he does makes sense. Did I mention he also drinks his own pee?

Though wrong one, still the peak!

Happy after hike, in THE pickup!

We followed with an infinite knee-killer descent, fun ride in the pickup and finshed off with a great sushi in Whistler. After that, I switched to a hybrid mode at Mima's place till Maťo and Šiška came to pick me up and we went to the cottage for one more evening, this time taking unexpected turn into a vláčik gaming session. Seriously, try level 20.

But it was time to go and I woke up early to catch a share ride to Vancouver with one First nation woman, Russian girl, and Australian and Czech guys. Yeah, Canada is international and I think there actually isn't a "true" Canadian. Vancouver is half Chinese and Toronto even more multicultural. Yet people seem to be happy, discrimination non-existent and country one of the safest in the world. Perhaps this is a model the world will need to follow, as we become more of a single world, rather than multiple countries.

Lowden's lookout

I met Juro back in Vancouver and he immediately helped me with a burger (still from the hike!). We had a few plans of a typical sightseeing tourist: visit a big sports store, see a street full of homeless and addicts and have as low cost fast food as possible.

Mike on English bay, selling best hot dogs in town! That's NOT the low-cost fast food I mentioned

The store was excellent, the street quite scary (people carrying needles or wildly shaking from their "shot" on clear daylight) and the fastfood just what we wanted! A super low cost place, kind of in a garage, with hot-dog + Coke for 1.5$. What a deal! I added a bowl of Poutine - greasy fries with gravy and cheese. Juro opted for "healthy" Ceasar salad, but compensated with drinking loads of sugary Coke (you know, free refills). And after that, man, we were SICK!

mmmm...

We walked around the city like zombies, fumbling up the stairs and thinking of the poor Supersize me guy, who did this for a month. Luckily, there was not much more to do and we settled for a couple of hours on the shore by the Museum of Vancouver. There, Juro found a guy struggling with his kite and decided to help him, only to take over the next time I turned around.

Juro kite-ing

At the airport, I was a half-dead man, still tired from the hike, last night's party and a day of walking in Vancouver. We ended up playing Sultans of Swing on the showcased iPads using GarageBand apps for about an hour and then said the goodbyes. Though both of us were flying through Toronto, Juro's flights were later and just missing mine.

I arrived to Toronto at 5ish AM after a short night in plane, which lasted just over 3 hours, when accounted for the time difference. The other flight to London was at 10PM and thus I decided to explore Toronto, although now I was really dead. Still, it was interesting to see Toronto wake up and I pushed myself to one more day. It's a huge city, much bigger than Vancouver, with 6 lane highways, downtown full of skyscrapers and hoards of people in suits below them, carrying coffee in their morning rush to work. Desperate for one myself, I struggled to find a coffee place which would not be too busy, as well as a decent supermarket. Eventually succeeding, I almost crawled to Sugar beach for a bit rest. The beach is a nice place on the shore where one can relax on a sunbed and watch the planes approaching the landing on nearby airport. Other than that, I was a bit disappointed with Toronto. I guess it was just too big, but also I could not see any character of the city. There was a NY-like downtown, industrial zone towards Thompson park, or Brussels like administration quarter around the Museum. But mostly, I did not find it a very nice place to spend a day. But perhaps I just didn't know where to look.

Relax on Sugar beach

NY - like downtown in Toronto

At 3 in the afternoon, I was seriously tired and decided to go to the airport, where I went straight to the gate. Funnily, I received message from Juro that he made a mistake, and actually is at the airport too, flying just half an hour before me from a neighbouring gate. Juro went to get us a Subway sandwich each, but in the end I was not able to eat it till 2 days later. The lack of sleep, time difference, lots of walking and the refrigerating in the planes were just a bit too much and when I came home to Cardiff at round 5pm, I was really happy to see the bed. I was also a bit gutted my girlfriend did not even come to greet me, but she was the one with a surprised look at her face after all - it turned out I came one day earlier than I told her :-D

What to say in conclusion? First - yes, I really need a travel blog and keep only the pizza details here. Noted, will (perhaps, one day) do something about it. But perhaps it just should go all together. The mountains and wilderness around, surfing, hiking and biking, local slang, bear encounters, Juro's master chef cooking, our junk food stupidity and most importantly, all the amazing people we've met all created a big chunk of memories I now have to store in my head and can't forget. So well done, good job everyone, see what you've caused?!

But really, thanks to you great peeps for everything, and most of all thanks Juro, Mima and Tina. Good times.

Dough - 8
Ingredients - 7
Sauce - 7
Pizza atmosphere - 7
Atmosphere - 9
Service - 7