Gozo, Malta: Lots to See and Enjoy Besides the Azure Window (RIP)

     Basque country is the land of pintxos, little bar food snacks which are kind of like tapas but are mostly on pieces of baguette with toothpicks sticking out of them. All the coolest places in Bilbao have bar tops covered in pintxos and rooms packed with people drinking and socializing and helping themselves to the various pieces of decorated bread. But you cannot be one of those people if you are vegan. No sir, you will miss out. 

     Okay, it’s not entirely true. If you can speak medium level Spanish and/or you did your HappyCow research more thoroughly than I did, you can probably find a place serving vegan pintxos. And hey, I tried. I really did. But unfortunate turns kept turning: bartenders and servers couldn’t understand my Spanish (or pretended not to understand, maybe trying to be more like the French?), or they didn’t know what I was talking about with my dietary restrictions (Sacre bleu! What do you mean no cheese!), or the places with supposedly vegan options were closed when I went while the sun was still sort of visible because ain’t nobody in Spain working while the sun is out! So, point is, I didn’t get pintxos. 
    That doesn’t mean you won’t. I’m sure you will have better luck and/or do better research and/or speak more coherent Spanish. But you know, I’m not even upset. I eat a lot of bread in my normal life so missing out on bread topped with this or that while pushing through people drinking alcohol isn’t that big a deal to me. The only thing is, if you aren’t eating pintxos in Bilbao, you are eating a set menu. Even for lunch! Even if you just wanted a light lunch somewhere, you will be greeted with a three course set menu. Sure you could probably order a la carte but who knows what that would bring you. Whereas, with a set menu in Bilbao, you know you are getting green salad (lettuce and onions, oh my!), grilled vegetables, and fruit. Now, I’m not knocking salad, veggies, and fruit. That’s pretty much my favorite stuff. It’s just that for the most part, their efforts to serve a vegan resulted in very uninspired food, and at various restaurants I was given nearly identical meals. Oh, and there will always be a basket of bread on the table, and you will eat too much of it because it’s bread on the table. 
     When we first set out in Bilbao, it was super late at night, like past normal bedtime, which means that all the restaurants were just starting to open. We struggled to pass through the streets overflowing with drunk yoots and went into several bars and restaurants trying to find a menu to decipher. But most of the places we entered were serving pintxos, not regular menus, and all of their little breads were topped with meat and cheese. After a few blocks of this, I started to get really anxious and nervous. And hungry. (There was a Subway, though, as there always is, so I found comfort knowing that if all else failed I would be able to get shredded lettuce and green peppers on their stanky bread.)
     Finally, one bar serving pintxos said that they were serving their regular menu in the dining room, and that they could accommodate a vegetarian. (Advice: Always start by saying vegetarian. Most people don’t know the word vegan (even in English speaking countries, don’t assume that’s a household word) so figure out with the front of house staff if they can serve vegetarians and then make sure with your waitron that stuff doesn’t contain dairy and hipsters’ souls. That’s been the route to success for me.) This oasis of a restaurant, called Busterri, had a pretty fancy white tablecloth dining room that was empty when we entered but pretty full by the time we left (like after midnight, oh Europeans). 

    First of all, how hilarious is that image on the water bottle? Oh, that’s another thing we encountered here – lots of bringing you bottled water even if you ask for tap. Blergh. I hate paying for water but I guess it doesn’t hurt to sometimes give my body a break from all the fracking chemicals. Also, I tried a Basque specialty white wine called Txakoli. It was one of the only alcohols I’ve ever had that I didn’t despise. I don’t know whether it was the tiredness or the Spanish air or whether Busterri actually had the greatest house wine ever, but it was very nice.     
      The food isn’t very pretty, but hot damn it was yummy. This was my first of the ‘hot oily veggies’ meals, so I really enjoyed it. These sauteed mushrooms were possibly the most delicious mushrooms I’ve ever eaten! No joke! Even better than at the fancy pants Michelin restaurant this whole trip was based around (separate post on that wondrousness tomorrow). 

    Seriously delicious, these mushrooms. They were positively swimming in salty olive oil and were just perfect. I could have returned to Busterri and had these a few more times. My next course was similarly oily, similarly warm and comforting, but featuring some fry!

    Although nothing could top those hot oily mushrooms, the next plate of hot vegetables was still quite delicious. Along with more mushrooms, carrots, peas, green beans? potatoes? what’s in there?, came unbelievably perfect fried cauliflower AND fried artichokes. The fried artichokes definitely would convert anyone who ever said they didn’t like fried food, not that those people exist. They melted apart and were amazing. Nice mash of mush here I say! 
    The wait staff was really nice and helpful, and the food was good, if on the expensive side. Also, there was bread. Always bread. 
     The next day (a Saturday), we tried to hit up some HappyCow recs for lunch, but they were closed! Whaaat are these schedules?! We ended up at a cider hall (or sidreria) in the casco viejo (old town!) called Arriaga, which was full of big parties of Spanish families having their weekend meal together as well as an assumed stag do (bachelor party) full of superlatively wasted young men (of course seated at the table next to us). Being a sidreria, the set menu on offer was called a cider menu, meaning you got your meat, other meat, and cheese for dessert along with unlimited cider that you pour yourself from the enormous barrels in the walls. That was pretty cool. I didn’t take pictures but I had a decent green salad (lettuce and onion only, naturally) that was quite enormous (I think I was supposed to share with Husband but I love lettuce) and a grilled vegetable plate with really good asparagus, artichokes, leeks, and more. It was nothing out of the ordinary, but nothing to sneeze at. Also, when the risk of not finding any vegetables while traveling is so high, I’d take veggie overload any day. Oh and of course there was never-ending table bread. 

   In the picture above right, you can see how one is supposed to get cider from the wall barrel. It’s pretty cool! The buckets are perfectly placed to catch what you can’t, but even so the staff had to regularly mop the floors because of all the spillage and drippage. It was really fun! I even tried it a few times just for the collection fun. Above left, you can see a picture of the restaurant exterior. Why am I including this? Well do you notice the graffiti at the bottom? Like…what?!?! Strong statement, sir! 
   So Arriaga was a pretty nice restaurant, but again it was crazy expensive for the set menu and convinced us that Bilbao is just on the pricey side. Oh the best part was what came with dessert (fruit for me):

   A bowl of walnuts and a nutcracker!!!! Ahhh! My oh my, I had way too much fun with this. Have you ever actually cracked your own nuts? It is difficult! I failed a few times before getting the hang of it. It mostly took me 4 cracks to fully demolish one, but there were a few times I was able to open it right on the seam. So proud! But not as proud as when I full on pulled a “Pretty Woman” with the escargot and let a walnut slip right out of the cracker and across the restaurant. Ohhhmigod, sorry people. One also went under our neighboring table. It was amazing. Seriously, this was so entertaining. 
       One of the vegetarian-friendly places we couldn’t get into on Saturday we went back to on Sunday, and it was kind of disappointing. It’s probably my own fault for ordering the wrong thing, though. The super hip, super popular restaurant in the casco viejo called Kasko is a restaurant recommendation in several mainstream guides. We had to make a reservation because it’s always really busy. Everything I read said they were vegan friendly, but several staff members had to come talk to me to figure out what I was after. Finally someone came over and told me, in Spanish, what their 4-5 vegan options were and that I was to pick two. I didn’t really understand most of what was said or that the first two weren’t necessarily appetizers and the second two weren’t necessarily entrees and that I could pick any two, so I kind of failed. I did pick a fantastic first course, the stuffed peppers with corn, beans, lettuce, and pine nuts in a wonderful red sauce that felt like a true Italian gravy. 

But my second course was a shambles. The lady had said something like green salad, asparagus, or pasta for the other options and I stupidly thought well, I’ve had a lot of green salad, and I’ve had a lot of asparagus, so why not pasta. Why not pasta? Because this isn’t Italy or a vegan restaurant so you aren’t going to be happy because: 

     Right, because it was just pasta. In oil. With no salt. (I got some from the bar but yeesh.) It was first brought to me covered in parmesan, and when I told the waitress who knew I was vegan she looked horrified and brought me a different plate. But still, that made me question whether these were egg noodles. And still, I’m not a fan of just a bowl of tasteless noodle. I chose POORLY, MAN. 
     My dessert was pretty hilarious. 

     Yes, sirree, that is a hunk of pineapple, uncut. I can’t really complain because it was good pineapple. I just find it kind of funny. I also do find it kind of sad. 
     So, if you are heading to Bilbao and you aren’t going to be eating the many, many hunks of meat served all over the city (it’s pretty jarring and gross), be prepared for a lot of grilled oily veggies. Try to figure out what the heck kind of schedule the (supposedly existing) vegan pintxos places have. Prepare some Spanish in advance, but if you get tripped up, don’t get so nervous that you rush into bad decisions like I did. Just take a deep breath and remember, no, I will probably not be happy with a big bowl of noodle to go alongside my table bread. Relax and be grateful that there are so many vegetables, even if they aren’t served in super interesting ways. And, most importantly, if you can swing it, plan a meal at Asador Extebarri, the fancypants restaurant that will be the subject of tomorrow’s Very Important Post. 

After our 10 or so wonderful (well, like six were) days in Kyrgyzstan, we were due to find our way to Kazakhstan. If you’ve been following along this adventure for the past three months, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Oh they’re gonna take another train! Hah I hope this one is clean!’ Bitch I WISH there was a train! I wish we could cross the next few borders on our agenda by train instead of figuring it out ourselves when we don’t speak the language and the locals are insane! But no no no, Kyrgyzstan DOESN’T HAVE TRAINS. Didn’t you find it odd that I haven’t written about trains in a while? I know I miss it too. Well there aren’t any so deal. Our options for getting from Bishkek to Almaty were: private car (too expensive), private car shared with other tourists (still a bit expensive; hard to find other tourists willing to do this; hard to negotiate with the driver when we don’t speak the language well; we hate strangers), or marshrutka (the unmarked white vans perfect for kidnappings but instead used in this region for public transit mm okay). Well gird your loins because we chose the latter option. 

Marshrutkas, little white vans used for public transport, are how everyone gets around in these parts. It’s all the rage! No it’s really the only option. We’d used them before in Mongolia and I want to say some places in Russia but those were to get to tourist sights outside the city centers, not to cross into other countries on fully day-long trips! I would have to pee SO much. But alas, it was the best option: tried and trusted according to other crustier travelers we met, cheap, reliable. Reliable as far as getting you there, I mean. Not reliable like having any sort of respect for departure times, oh no, perish that thought. 

Our hotel in Bishkek, the Futuro Hotel, offered free transfers from Bishkek to the Kyrgyz side of the border, about 45 minutes away, so we were happy to at least have that leg taken care of, even though it’s the easiest bit. Of course, a different staff member informed us, like, the day we were leaving that that freebie is not for guests staying there through their tour companies (NoviNomad had booked our stay). So that’s a big old pile of bullshit; someone remind me to drag them on TripAdvisor. So instead of our plan of freeing it to the Kyrgyz border point (called Kordai, which is super close to how you pronounce Kodaly, the name of Gavin Creel’s character in ‘She Loves Me’), we could pay for a taxi there and then get a Kazakh-only marshrutka or taxi the rest of the way to Almaty, or we could taxi to the Bishkek bus station and get a marshrutka from Bishkek all the way to Almaty. We didn’t like the thought of getting across the border at Kordai and then not having our transport figured out for the Kazakh leg – the cars and vans waiting on the other side could charge extortionate prices since we had no other choice. Thus! Marshrutka the entire way it is! This is where I would use that emoji of the face with the eyes bugging out all scared and what not.

After I cursed out the staff at Futuro for being stupid (just kidding I’m so polite irl), a taxi took us to the bus station in the center of Bishkek, along with another guest from the hotel. This other passenger was a Russian man probably mid-20s or 30s. We figured it’s a short ride and we might as well split the fare. How bad could it be? Guys it was so awkward. He asked where we were going and where we were coming from and we sort of said the long and short of being long(ish)-term travelers, and you know what his response was? “Are you rich?” I almost cracked up but come on who says something like that? I wanted to be like, “What are you, American? Only Americans think you have to be rich to travel” (because they don’t get any vacation time) (also hey soon Russians might all be given American citizenship for funsies so I guess I was right) but we just kind of said um no…? like…we’re normies but also that’s an inappropriate question? He was kind of scary though (are all white youngish Russian men??) so we didn’t say that last part. No etiquette lessons given today! 

Once we got to the bus depot (it was for sure a depot and not a station, just like a mess of a parking lot with vans and cars jutting out in all directions and PEOPLE EVERYWHERE), we found a ticket window and bought two tickets to Almaty. I think it was the 10am marshrutka we bought tickets for. We were pointed to one of the white vans, which had about 6 little rows of seats (2 on one side of the aisle, 1 on the other) plus 4 seats across the very back. So this is a SMALL little van and there are seats for more than TWENTY passengers. Also the windows didn’t open and it was hot. Erma. We boarded (luckily this minibus situation had a little compartment in the back for luggage, not like our Lake Baikal shitshow) when there were about 10 people already onboard, and most of the seats up front were taken. I almost choked on the fear that we’d have to sit in that dreaded back row (girl I will THROW UP on you) (by ‘girl’ I mean ‘whoever is sitting in front of me in a slightly better seat’) but then I noticed two seats about three rows back that I thought were taken but had just a water bottle on it. I said omg let’s sit there and if anyone comes be like what water bottle I didn’t see anything (I know I’m a monster). Luckily no one claimed it. 

We were told we had about 10 minutes so I went to the bathroom, stretched my legs, and tried to be okay with how dehydrated I was in preparation for at least five hours in a crammed minivan without fresh air. I was doing an okay job at calming myself but then I noticed that we were not leaving. We didn’t even have a driver visible in the vicinity. More and more people kept boarding – it got full. Twenty minutes past go time and still no driver. This one girl got on and off, on and off, talking to someone who maybe worked there but maybe was just a drifter? She was wearing a Mickey Mouse ear visor and we of course started imitating the Russian model on “New Girl” who said “why don’t you get in your spaceship like Mick Mouse” and that helped for a minute but then MORE TIME KEPT PASSING and we KEPT NOT LEAVING. Then two more people arrived and they were apparently this girl’s parents. I’m saying girl but she was like our age it’s not like this was an abandoned child (despite the visor). I was like well they’re not getting on our van anyway, it’s full. But no there was a thingy up by the driver’s seat that could be clamped down to make one solid row so the three of them crammed in next to the driver, who finally showed up. I was livid that we had apparently been waiting for 45 minutes (THAT’S RIGHT) for random people who could have just gotten on a different marshutka (there were like 1000!) instead of delaying ours that long but okay breathe. The driver backed out of his parking spot and pulled around to the main section of the lot, where you are supposed to drive. But instead. Instead he got out. 

And he smoked. 

I could cut a bitch. 

Finally he got on and we left, about an hour late. It is very, very difficult for me/anyone who cares about anything to deal with this sort of chaos in things that could clearly be better organized. Z tried to calm me down by reminding me that our last train of this long trip would be going to Berlin. GERMAN TRAINS. That shit’ll be so on time it’ll blow your mind! Helped a little. 

The ride to Kordai wasn’t too bad. The van dropped us off at the start of a long pathway towards the customs building. At one point on our walk, there was a counter with little forms to fill out – our customs declaration, I guess. I say I guess because it was in several languages but not English, so who knows what I signed off on. Fortunately a kind Greek person who does this route a lot (I don’t know) helped us fill out our forms. We had to do Kyrgyz exit customs first, which was very simple and straightforward. We got in the ‘Not locals’ line. Then we got into the main hall, where I witnessed two incredibly disturbing things. One was the giant welcome sign in the hall that read: “WELCOME TO KAZAKHSTAN. GOOD LUCK.” what the EVERLASTING TUCK?? good luck? why do we need luck? what’s going to happen to us!! So, so disconcerting. The other was the state of the hall itself, which was the site of one of my probably top 5 most distressing attempts at queueing. There were tons of windows with agents, but people didn’t know how to spread out so that you could join all the various lines. There were just mobs of people up at the front of the hall, and then there was so much line cutting and it was hard to see where to go omg it was a messsss. We got in a particularly bad jumble masquerading as a line but it was near the Greek person in case we had an issue so we stayed. It was easy though; we made our little ‘we’re just poor hungry tourists’ faces and got stamped through. On the other side was Kazakhstan! But more importantly – a toilet! 

I really was only about 50, 55% sure that the mashrutka – with our bags – would be there when we got out but there he was! About 15 minutes after we got out of the building, all our fellow passengers were out and we were ready to drive for hours through Kazakhstan to Almaty, the best city that used to be the capital but it got too crowded so they moved the capital thinking that people would want to go to there but of course no one did because Almaty has STUFF and good stuff at that and Astana like doesn’t. Literally Astana was an empty pasture when they made it the capital in the ’90s. I’m sure now they have like buildings and roads but Almaty is still better. So I’ve heard.  

Oh man I was thirsty! I am so eager for regular life when I can drink all the water I want and then have access to toilets. We had a stop about halfway through, somewhere between 90 minutes and 2 hours. It was this big Kazakh version of a rest stop, with a restaurant, shop, and public (paid) toilets. One Kyrgyz girl from our van paid for my toilet! I didn’t even know and then the lady motioned to say it’s taken care of. How nice is that?! Sometimes people are nice! There is no better gift you can give me than the gift of a bathroom break!

Almost everyone went into the shop and bought ice cream bars – it was hilarious, like we were on a school trip. Mick Mouse saw we were clearly not Kyrgyz or Kazakh and ORDERED us to try this one kind of ice cream, her favorite. I was like oh I don’t eat dairy Mick Mouse. Mick Mouse started talking to us and not just ordering us to buy things and it turned out she lived in Berlin! We love Berlin! We told her as much. She said some other things but I was distracted with how badly I wanted ice cream and how fitting it was that I probably wouldn’t be able to find vegan ice cream until we indeed get to Berlin. 

Finally we got to Almaty, at about 4:30pm. Oh man I was so hungry. The station was under serious construction so we were dropped off kind of far from the actual entrance, which was not great because obviously I had to go to the bathroom as fast as possible. And just as fun, once I got to the station there was no sign for the toilet so I had to ask this random babushka in a cafe and she said it was around the back of the station and underground. Not a great start, Kazakhstan! Then we had to find a taxi to get to our hostel, Sky Hostel, our first in a while but one with strong ratings. Also every hotel in Almaty was weirdly expensive (it’s very surprisingly cosmopolitan!) so this hostel was our best doable option. With our packs and all our crap, we walked up and down the street asking cab drivers how much to go to the hostel neighborhood, and they all said WAYYY more than we were told it should be, because why wouldn’t they, we were ignorant tourists with all our luggage who needed a ride! Extort! We went up and down, back and forth in the heat and our state of exhaustion and each driver we found gave a higher price than the last. Finally we said f this, f it all, because guess what we found out?

Almaty has Uber. 

I KNOW!

Yes Uber is problematic (worst board of any modern company?) and I would never use it in regular life if I had a choice, which I can’t imagine not being the case, but when we were stranded on the side of the road during our first hour in Kazakhstan and it was cheaper than the cabs were asking? Yes please! It was a super nice car that came, too. 

The hostel was a little weird – Sky Hostel is located on the 11th floor of a regular building. Like you have to go in and take the ONE TINY BARELY WORKING elevator to reception on the 11th floor while regular workers and other citizens are using it too to get to whatever else was in that super shady building. So ridiculous. Luckily the hostel itself was fine. The girls (seriously children) working reception were completely inept but we were used to all that by now. Our room was on the 10th floor so we had to walk down the flight of stairs to get to it – the stairs that didn’t exist in the lobby and don’t actually take you to the lobby. The stairs are just from like floors 10-13 for the hostel use and blocked off below and above! So weird. Luckily the room was fine but the view from the 10th floor landing, hoo boy: 

Such a lovely city! We were excited to go explore. 

Okay, not really that night so much for exploring. We were exhaaaausted! But we were excited to finally eat that day. There was a promising Georgian restaurant with several locations, called Daredzhani. We went to the closest one to the hostel, about a half hour walk away (felt like hours). You know how we feel about Georgian food! It always saves us when we are in random locales and super hungry. As a vegan, I can count on finding interesting dishes at Georgian restaurants, including plenty of vegetables (always important when traveling) and amaaazing bread! Georgian fluffy breads are the bee’s knees. Well, Daredzhani kept up the tradition. SO good! The staff was incredibly friendly and the hostess spoke perfect English. We asked if by chance they had an English menu and she was like, um yes of course we do this is ALMATY. So things were definitely going to be a lot easier and more comfortable here than we expected when we planned to visit Kazakhstan! Almaty reminded us most of London than any other destination of the summer had. 

But we will talk more about the city itself in the next post. The rest of this one is just going to be about our fantastic dinner! 

I don’t normally like to drink anything that isn’t water, but Daredzhani had really fun lemonades on the menu. We tried the green and the red. Ha I don’t remember the flavors but they were good! But the food is where it’s at! As we are known to do, we ordered WAY too much and it was all great. 

My favorite thing was the salad – they said it was spinach but it was stronger, like kale, which I loved, but I guess that’s just spinach in Kazakhstan maybe, with a tahini-like dressing I think made from walnuts, plus scattered pomegranate seeds. Such a perfect and simple dish! The vegetable soup was also simple and good, nourishing in a basic way rather than exciting, but we needed some of that! But the cauliflower dish in the background was the shizzz. I don’t know what that sauce was, but it was magic. I think it was nut based, as many Georgian sauces are, and it was like spicy but not hot and I don’t know it was sooo good. It was a chef’s special that night and I wasn’t going to order it because cauliflower is les boringles but Z wanted it and I was like fiiiine and then it was the best ever. 

I adore how well they used nuts. This eggplant dish above had a walnut paste and pomegranates. It was great! Another staple we always get is lobio, a kidney bean dish served hot or cold. This one was hot (so the better option) and nice but needed some salt. I mixed it with some of the magic cauliflower sauce and it was phenomenal.

And of course the bread with its perfect rip-off handles. My fave. 

So we didn’t really see any of Almaty on our first night but we had a wonderful dinner after an all-day ridiculous adventure crossing from one stan to another. After we get some much needed rest, we’d have two days to see all the sights in this promising city.