About a fortnight ago, I took on Europe as a solo, black, female traveller and I had so much to say. It couldn’t all fit in one post, find part 1 here. It’s about the background story that inspired my trip plus all the tips and tricks I picked along the way.
Part two entails my experience and impressions on the cities I visited.
Stockholm, Sweden.
If you’ve landed at the Kigali airport, you know why Rwanda is called the country of a thousand hills. You’re treated to views of hills rolling upon hills upon yet another thousand of hills. It is spectacular!
Hills are to Kigali what forests are to Stockholm, which is pleasantly surprising. I was expecting the concrete jungle that is synonymous with Western cities. Landing at Arlanda airport felt like descending right in the middle of a forest.
The city itself is an archipelago. Because of this, there are water masses, bridges and ferries lining up the city. It is stunningly beautiful.
True to its location, Sweden is freezing. This girl from the tropics was subjected to sub zero temperature. My bff found me almost frozen over when picking me up. Just five more minutes and she would have found a block of ice. I was shook when I checked my app one time and it was -3 degrees celsius. Boy didn’t I struggle! I would check in to random shops feigning interest over their wares just to warm up a bit after being outdoors for too long.
Stockholm feels too white, except for the occasional blacks of Ethiopian/Eritrean origin that you’ll come across. And yet, the most kind out of all the cities I visited. They serve you with a consistent enthusiasm and trust, colour not withstanding.
My bff and I rightfully concluded that Stockholmers are the definition of ‘mind your own business’. No one looks at you. In the mall, the subway, restaurant. No one. You did sth embarrassing, no one noticed. And that is a very good thing… or is it?
I would, while visiting the rest of the cities, be very grateful that my bff got to work here.
Brussels, Belgium.
The heart of Europe — rightfully so, as it serves as the HQs for the European Union.
The influence of the Dutch and French over this small country is evident in their lingua. Even street signs are in both of those languages, surprisingly.
But just how much beer is too much beer. 1000 varieties. A special glass for each one. Even beer museums to boot.
Brussels streets are committed to having you well-fed, even if it’s just through the eyes. Now I can’t shake off the ‘kula kwa macho’ ref complete with the beat. Aaargh Kenyans. Hehe.
Belgian fries- baked twice in beef fat (french fries stand no chance), liege waffles, chocolates.
Here, I felt noticed. I was helped to carry my luggage. They readily stopped to help me figure out directions.
Paris, France.
First impression- underwhelming.
Obviously, having had my longest stay in a Nordic country, my standards were really high. The subway is a mess. I had heard cases of insecurity, didn’t know I would witness a robbery right in front of me at the subway station.
Some streets made me feel like I was right in the middle of a West African city. I would, in a moment, have been teleported to Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso.
The attraction sites; however, are worth all the hype. The Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame, the Louvre museum, the Sacre Couer-Montmartre.
If cities had a character, Paris would be the pleasure-seeking.
The French are highly expressive in their love. It doesn’t come as a surprise when you’re on a queue and the individuals in front and behind you are engaged in -heavier than normal- PDA over and over again.
Entire streets are lined with those very raunchy shops- you know which.
I was elated when I saw a poster of Pogba and Mbappe and it hit me that I was in their home turf. Having ardently supported the French team in the World Cup (for the sole reason that it had lotsa pple my colour), I was so jazzed! Now I can’t wait to go to Senegal, my friends would know.
It also really excited me that I was in Macron’s country. I love a good love story and theirs is one of those. As much as the protests continue based on among other reasons, a change in their laws e.g. on pension, I’m glad I didn’t get to witness it neither feel it.
Rome, Italy
Rome is what you imagine Paris would be but it’s not. Rome is surreal. My best city for certain.
First impression- the lyrical language. Everything ends in a vowel. Traversed Italiano in its entirety by bus. The driver would call out the cities Turino, Milano, Roma. It got me confused for a moment there.
Men have never looked better in suits. They are dapper! (plus they smell nice too. Haha). There is no doubting why the Italian football team always takes our breath away with their suits at the World Cup.
There is a church at every corner. It is no wonder, that while in a grocery store, train, bus etc you will almost always see a nun, a religious leader in a collar or fully robed. Complete with religious instruments hanging down their necks, wrists or waists.
Think of Rome as an outdoor museum. There’s always sth to behold. I would be in a bus and I would catch myself neck craned so hard staring at something. It is oh so magnificent. I would, while walking, catch a tag line ‘Here before everyone else’. Nothing could be truer.
Buildings like the Pantheon, The Colosseum were built in the AD. If Roma challenged the rest of our cities to anything, it would win.
Elizabeth Gilbert in her book ‘Eat Pray Love’, has Italy as her first destination where she goes to treat her palette. It’s easy to see why Italy and not any of the other 192 countries. I would have a food-gasm moment any time I went through the food section in a grocery store. I went a little out of town, to Travestre, just to sample food by the locals for the locals and now my buccal is forever indebted to Roma.
Remember the thing for cities with characters. Rome is Pristine!
Vatican City.
Yep. It’s a country on its own. The World’s smallest.
There’s truly no demarcation between Rome and Vatican City. Buses traverse across. You can have one foot in Italy and the other in Vatican, literally. Even unknowingly.
Fun fact- It is only 110 acres. The Pope is the head. It has no taxation. It took me a while to wrap my mind around this place, having seen it many times on TV, especially around the time when they are selecting a Pope.
So I sat down at St. Peter’s Square and started to read. Then it started dawning on me progressively. I could see the window from where the Pope makes his address, St. Peter’s basilica and the shape in which it is built. The place where Catholic faithfuls in their thousands wait day and night for pronouncements. Everything was now so enlightening.
**List of Bests**
Best site- The Louvre. Having watched and read the Da vinci code, it meant so much for me to lay my eyes on the Louvre. On the inside, I was ‘jumping jumping’ as a baby would do when they are excited.
The Eiffel Tower was breathtaking, alright. It stands there in its magnificence overlooking Paris, knowing it has won any contest even the ones that haven’t been fathomed yet.
The Grand Square in Brussels also elicited that ‘jumping jumping’ reaction from me. It is an ancient architectural haven.
The Notre Dame got a more sombre reaction from me plus the other thousands of tourists. As you would know, a significant part of it was razed in a fire last year.
Best Food
Tomato mozzarella pizza in Travestre, Rome.
The in-flight food on Qatar from Rome to Doha. Sluuurp!! It’s like they understand it will be a while before you set your foot here again so let’s treat you to a final meal the Italiano way.
Belgian fries and the sauce from Fritland.
… and now I’m hungry.
Best subway.
Stockholm, hands down! Not only for the reason that it’s very efficient and clean (unlike Paris’) but also that it’s all covered in such outstanding art.
Speaking of which, the African city that cracks this subway thing will be well on its way to being the most futuristic. Its the sole solution for the rapid expansion of cities.
Bonus- Biggest hassle with solo travel that no one tells you about…
Taking pictures. Yes.
If you would imagine that every single picture that was taken of me was by different individuals, all strangers. I could now give a masterclass on who to approach, how to approach them and when. And how to get them to take the best pics of you, else you would tire your body with poses only to get back your camera and no picture is good. Not a single one. I learnt this the hard way. Poor body has to be flexed into posing again. (heheh)
My masterclass would start like this.. If there’s a person of Asian origin in the vicinity, skip everyone else and go to them, cajole them even. Haha. Language barrier not withstanding, they have the best spatial appreciation, from my experience.
You’re welcome.
