Things Irish People Like

Butcher Shops.  Just about every town has one.  In villages like Golden, where shuttered businesses are casualties of the recession, the butcher shop is still up and running.  Sure, people shop at the supermarket and you'll see bags from Durres Stores or Supervalu in the hands of butcher shop customers, but some things you save for the people you really trust.  The local butchers.

Green.  While driving around, even on major highways, we just kept gawking at how much it all looked like the Ireland of our imagination.  A rainbow here, a double rainbow there, cows and horses in the mist and the brightest green you've ever seen absolutely everywhere.  The color occurs so often in the natural landscape of Ireland, you'd think they'd be sort of tired of it.  Nope.  It's a little like St. Patrick's Day every day.  The mailboxes are green, windowboxes, doors, houses are all different shades of it.  It's a favorite in clothing.  It's a national emblem.

Turf Fires.  At the back of every pub, there's a fire burning and if you have the luck of being welcomed into an Irish home, there's probably one going in the sitting room.  You won't smell coal or hear the cracking and snapping of wood, the flame will smolder steadily and smokelessly for hours.  Because they're burning turf.  Turf bricks look like solid chunks of earth - which is essentially what they are, but with certain scientific properties that make them efficient forms of energy.  Fossil fuel.  They smell subtle and lovely and are so much a part of Ireland that this exists (You know how you can watch the yule log on tv in America?  Well, it's a turf fire dvd - with complimentary turf incense!)  Ireland is actually the world's second largest user of turf fuel, after Finland, and around one sixth of their electricity comes from turf-burning power plants.

Guinness. This seems like a cop-out, I know, but it's still worth noting.  We figured Europe's 4th biggest beer consuming country would be more like the top 3 (Czech Republic, Germany and Austria) in that there'd be lots of local brews to try.  But microbreweries in Ireland really don't stand a chance against the loyalty to Guinness.  It's the best-selling alcoholic drink in the country.  It's the most popular beer by far and, in most places, the only Irish one on tap.  While we stuck with Smithwicks (an Irish red ale) and Bulmer's (an Irish hard apple cider), everyone around us drank Guinness.  Oddly, the other beers on tap were usually Carlsberg, Budweiser, Heineken and Coors Light.  It's like they're actively trying to make Guinness taste even better by comparison.

Vegetable Soup.  This isn't to say that Irish people like vegetable soup more than, say, steak & kidney pie or Irish breakfast.  It's that they like a very specific soup, called "vegetable soup."  In my experience, describing a soup as "vegetable" can mean any number of things.  Tomato based, cream-based, pureed, chunky, brothy.  In Ireland, vegetable soup is an orange puree, a mix of carrot, onion, potato - maybe some squash, maybe some celery or peas.  Spices may vary, but the overall taste and look is the same.  It's always delicious, always served with a slice of brown bread and some intensely good Irish butter, and always available.

Preserving Storefronts.  There must have been a time when walking down a street in Ireland was like flipping through the local phone book.  The old facades on pharmacy's, general stores, pubs and grocers spell out a family name. You didn't name your saddle shop "Horse's Friend" or anything like that.  You named it "Connolly's" if that was your name.  These storefronts are now like old family albums in many villages, towns and even cities.  No matter what's inside the space, the name is kept the same.  It may have begun life as R. A. Merry & Co. Ltd, but now it's a great gastro pub simply referred to as "Merry's."  Pat and Gertie Ormond's cafe is now a restaurant with different owners, but is still called Ormonds.  Their contribution to the town and place in local history remembered.

Honorable Mentions

Discussing Politics.  Of course, this is basically the only country we've visited where we can understand all the conversation going on around us.  But even context clues would have brought me to this conclusion.  It's rare to see more newspapers in hands than magazines, and not tabloid newspapers either.  The real factual stuff.  Pub interaction often involves an older (and drunker) man 'schooling' a younger (and soberer) man, who listens politely and very respectfully disagrees.  Specifics about EU policy, trade agreements, parliamentary salaries are all widely known and energetically discussed.  "Who are you voting for?" we were asked in the run-up to the election.  It's not a "personal" question here. (Should it be anywhere?)  It's a topic of discussion.  And boy were they informed about American politics.  Which brings me to...

The Irish-American Connection.  Sadly, we were just about the first American couple most Irish people had met without a smidgeon of Irish between us.  (Even President Obama has a distant Irish cousin. I know this and that his name is Henry Healy, because he was the talk of the pub). But, we're still American, which made us kin anyway.  "There are 70 million Irish descendants in America," one man said proudly, acknowledging that the wealth of Irish in America has made the scope of Irish culture in the world larger than its geographic size would suggest.   At a pub, a young man asked for the tv channel to be switched from soccer to US election coverage.  They take what happens in America personally.  We're family.

Things Swedish People Like

Falu Red aka This Red Paint.  As soon as we drove away from Stockholm, we entered a land of red houses.  And all the same red, too.  This isn't an overstatement.  At first, Falu Red was designed to mimic the look of brickface in cities in the 1700s.  When, farmers began to paint their houses in the 1800s, they chose the paint for its practical purposes and it swept the nation.  Made of linseed oil, water, rye flour and copper compounds and zinc from the great copper mine in Falun (hence the name), Falu Red is non-toxic and actually helps preserve wood.  The recipe has been the same since the 1920s.   Falu Red has become so iconic in the Swedish countryside that "a red house," is used the same way "a white picket fence," would be - the symbol of an ideal.

Cardamom.  When we first saw kardemumma in a labeled shaker at a coffee shop - you know, where the cinnamon or cocoa powder usually are - we were surprised.  Then, we tasted it in one baked good after another.  It's a spice that we would probably never have associated with sweets before.  I'm not sure either of us could really have picked it out of a line up before Sweden.  But we sure can now.  Above, one of many kardemummabullar.  Think cinnamon bun, but with cardamom.

Dagens Rätt.  This means "Daily Lunch Special," and is served for about three hours mid-day Monday through Friday at just about every Swedish restaurant. Usually, it's a smörgåsbord (buffet) of soup, one or two hot dishes and an extensive salad bar. For the record, "salad bar" in Sweden means a whole selection of salads, from grains and beans to tzaitziki and hummus. We're not simply talking lettuce and fixings, here. A soft drink and coffee is included and, sometimes, a small dessert. It began decades ago when the government decided to subsidize lunches to keep workers happier and healthier (and more productive). Nowadays, most employers subsidize the lunches. So, places are packed at lunchtime. It was easily the healthiest and best we were able to eat on the cheap in a very long time. Swedes like the system so much that even big city brunch - the trendiest meal of all - is a buffet by reservation system in the hottest places. I call it smörgåsbrunch.

Wallpaper.  Don't let the white walls of Ikea fool you (or the lime green or pink ones for that matter).  Swedes love wallpaper and, being as I love wallpaper, it has been a real treat.

Beer and Burger Pubs.  In Sweden, bars can only sell alcohol if they classify themselves as 'restaurants' and serve hot food until at least 10pm.  That's a recipe for a pub right there - a place where you can sit with your stronger-than-supermarket beer and eat something simple.  Like a burger.  Boy do Swedes like their beer with a burger.  And they like one strong and the other big. The list of beer was always impressive, from the island of Gotland to the island of Jamaica and a whopper of a homemade veggie burger was available at each place we tried.  Never the thin, frozen type, either.  It was nice to go to these pubs and not feel like they were British or Irish themed.  Just good ole fashioned (or new fashioned?) Swedish beer and burger bars.

Extra Headlights.  In an unofficial survey performed by me in the passenger seat on a highway 4 hours north of Stockholm, 9 out of 50 cars (18%) had extra headlights attached to their grills.  Logically, they showed up more and more as we continued on toward the Arctic Circle. In the far north of Sweden, Lapland, the sun rises above the horizon for only two hours during winter.  (Stockholm gets about 5 1/2 hours of daylight in that same depth of winter).  So, one can see the point of the extra wattage. At a gas station yesterday, a man affixed his extra headlights.  Autumn has arrived.  The beginning of the sun's end.

Wooden Butter Knives.   These are not just quaint decorative touches.  A Swedish person would never dream of spreading butter with anything but a wooden butter knife.  Families have one for each member - different hands, different perfect fits. Households tend to have slightly different knives for use with different breads.  They are smooth, light, often made of juniper wood and every kitchen we rented (4 in all) had loads of them in their utensil drawers.  The handles are thinner than the blade.  They're kind of like little, shortened canoe paddles.  Above, the magical butter at Fäviken Magasinet.  Don't let the photo fool you.  Swedes skim their butter from the top.  Those wooden butter knives were not made to dig, scoop or chop, but rather gliddde and spread.

Saab.  It is the only automobile given the "Royal Warrant" by the King of Sweden and, as of June 2012, Saab belongs to the Swedes once more!  Well, the Swedes and the Chinese who share ownership of a company called National Electric Vehicle Sweden.  Sure, there was the whole GM bankruptcy snafu, but Sweden came to the rescue and their beloved brand will live to see another day.  (Obviously, Swedish people also like Volvo, but I really wanted to use this picture of an awesome classic Saab in Stockholm).

Honorable Mentions

Making you pay for the toilet.  Even as a paying customers in some cafes, you've gotta fork it over to pee.  Lessons learned the hard way, folks.  We felt stealthy when we discovered a free one, marking it one our maps.  Carry coins with you if you ever go to Sweden.  5 - 10 krona (75¢ to $1.50) is the going rate to use the restroom and since most have a door that you insert a coin into, it's vital to have exact change. Apparently, Stockholm pay toilets have been transitioning to Pay-By-Text functionality, but we didn't run into any of those ourselves.

Too Many Toppings.  This applies the most to pizza.  Outside of the cities, pizzeria and kebab restaurants are your local places to eat.  The pizza menus in Sweden are massive and include a list of combinations that seem bizarrely overwrought.  Pizza with kebab on it was a no-brainer, of course. But then...shrimp, skagen (roe and mayo salad), ham, pickles, pineapple, bernaise sauce.  On one pie.  Hot dogs get served with all sorts of pålägg (toppings): shrimp salad, Kalles (the iconic tubed caviar spread), bacon, cheese, coleslaw or mashed potatoes stuffed into the bun.  Lest we forget smörgåstårta.  The land of buffets has bred some very overzealous taste mixers.

Things Icelandic People Like

Saying "No, Thanks!" to European Union Membership.  Within an hour of arriving in Iceland, we spotted a billboard that said "ESB - NEI TAKK!"  Our quick airplane study session had taught us that "nei takk" means "no, thank you" and the European Union flag keyed us into the meaning of "ESB."  We saw hay bails wrapped in branded plastic with the same message throughout the countryside.  Even though membership talks successfully began between Iceland and the EU in 2010, 56% of Icelanders polled this February were against them moving forward.  The main causes for concern have to do with agriculture and fisheries.  Basically, the enormous subsidies currently provided to sheep farmers would be cut drastically, the import tax currently on imported meat and produce would be lifted and the local farmers would get competition that they simply couldn't win. As for the fisheries, once EU member states get access to Icelandic waters, there's no telling what would happen.  Both of these things would, undoubtedly, affect the island's environment (on top of its ability to be self-sufficient, a vital skill for an island nation).

Coca-Cola Products.  Icelanders consume more Coca-Cola product per capita than any country in the world.  It's true.  The upside to such a depressing statistic is that they are the only European country to sell my very favorite soda, Fresca, a product of the Coca-Cola Company.  Aside from Iceland, it is distributed only to North and South America.  So, thank you, Iceland.  (Coca-Cola, Coca-Cola Light, Sprite and Sprite Zero were the other products regularly on hand).
When buying a soda like a true Icelander, one needn't have any available cash.  Because, another thing that Icelandic people like is...

Using a Credit Card for Everything.  Absolutely everything.  Even the vending machines have card swipers.

Cairns.  Some marked trails, some stood lonely and tall in the middle of fields - ancient leftovers from a trail long since disappeared.  At Skálabrekka, on the drive toward Þingvellir National Park, we saw dozens of tourists buildings cairns in a field just chock full of them.  A different sort of marking, just saying that they were there.  This cairn was spotted on the way up the Strandir Coast of the Westfjords.

Saga Museums.  The Sagas of Icelanders are the best known and most loved pieces in Icelandic literature.  Written in the 13th and 14th century by unknown authors, they tell the stories of the 10th and 11th, when the descendents of the original settlers began to navigate their way through life in this new world.  This involved lots of murder, as far as I can tell, as almost every saga details one killing after another.  Of course, this makes for great entertainment.  So, museums telling the stories have popped up around Iceland.  Most are in the location of the actual saga.  Let's just say, we saw a lot of violence reenacted by wooden statues and grotesque dummies.  Above, at the Saga Museum in Borgarnes, a tavern full of men listen to the very first poem recited by young Egil of Egil's Saga.  Spoiler alert: Egil grew up to become quite the murderer.

Self-Service Soup Stations.  In tourist information centers, gas stations, bakeries, museum gift shops and restaurants, there was always a big cauldron of soup sitting in the corner.  The soup of the day was always self-serve, inexpensive and offered up with slices of complimentary bread.  Cauliflower soup popped up twice, but usually mushroom soup and kjötsúpa, Icelandic lamb soup, were the ones on hand. 
Usually, a self-serve water station was also stationed somewhere in any room.  Icelandic tap water is excellent and having big pitchers on counters and bars across the country was excellent.  No waiting to ask your waiter for a refill, here!

Sod Roofs.  This architectural feature dates all the way back to the Vikings.  Covering log cabins with birch bark was the roofing method of choices throughout Icelandic history - and since birch bark so easily curls or blows away, the pieces were weighed down with think pieces of sod.  The process was labor intensive, but basically free, so it continued on in rural areas for centuries.  Recently, people have begun using sod roofs again.  The birch is waterproof, the sod is a great insulator and the weight of it all compresses the logs beneath to make the walls more draught-proof.  The sod roof above seems to be mostly chosen for look.

Things Bosnian People Like

Cooking things Ispod Sača.  "Ispod Sača" means 'under the sač' and is often translated to 'in a Dutch oven.'   But that's really simplifying matters far too much.  While the sač is a round, cast iron dish with a lid, you don't normally cover the tops of dutch ovens with hot coals or ash, making them so heavy that some sort of stick or chain pulley system is needed in order to check on your food.  Cooking ispod sača is unique to the Balkans - we first heard about it in Serbia and first saw it with our own eyes in the mountains of Kosovo.  But here, the sač is not a relic rolled out on special occasions.   Cooking ispod sača is not just something you have to go up into the mountains or to a rural household to see it.   It's not just part of the kitsch at a national restaurant. It is a way of cooking recognized to be the best.  So, it continues to happen in homes, on roadsides, at restaurants, from towns to cities to villages.   Anything cooked ispod sača is ten times better than its oven-cooked version. 

Re-appropriating Luxury Brand Names.   There was a tailor named Prada and Benneton Second Hand Shop.  In the cases of Ferrari Cafe, Rio Mare Motel and Malibu Caffe, the actual logo artwork was used for the signage.   The Marriet and Big Hiltin hotels played it a little safer with spelling changes.   Definitely something they like.

Firewood.  After the watermills and tobacco fields, one of the first things we noticed in abundance when first crossing into Bosnia and Herzegovina was the firewood.   In the Krajina, people like to stack in these large circular stacks.  They were stuffed under porches, piled in laws, cut for hours with a chainsaw in the parking lot of our pension in Travnik.  The obvious reasons are necessity and availability.   Poverty and woodstoves often go hand in hand, both because of the price of electricity or gas and because many homes don't have modern ovens or furnaces.   As for availability, half of Bosnia and Herzegovina is forested.  But there are also a large number of people who just choose to heat and cook with wood.  For some people, it's for security - a different sort of 'fire insurance' than we have at home.  Russia is Bosnia's main gas source and just yesterday there was talk of a cut-off because some bill didn't get paid.  A wonderful byproduct of this love of wood-firing is the general excellence of pizza across the country.  Burn, baby, burn.

Water fountains.  Well, with all the water, why not?   The water fountains are used more often for a quick cooling head splash than a water bottle fill up, but that's just because drinking on the go just isn't how they do things in Bosnia and Herzegovina.   That is, of course, because they really like...

Cafe Culture.   I read that during the Siege of Sarajevo, when so many people stayed in cellars to survive ammunition showers and shelling, others walked right out their front door and joined their friends at a cafe.   Even the fact that any stayed open shows the dedication to cafe culture people of Bosnia and Herzegovina have.   The cafe can differ in style, but you know there will be leisurely conversations, groups expanding and contracting as people join their friends for a few minutes. The receipt is always set down with the delivery of the order, but sits there and sits there amongst the slow-burning cigarette and espresso cup, the sundae bowl and glass bottle Bitter Lemon, the potato chip and burek crumbs from someone who brought their own snack.   The point is to linger, converse and 'cafe.'

Striped Buildings.   The brightest, boldest striped building was definitely the Gymnasium in Mostar, above, built in 1902.   I can't find anything about the style online, if stripes were something big in Austro-Hungarian architecture.  That still wouldn't explain it anyway, because around Bosnia and Herzegovina, you see new and old buildings painted this way.  Sometimes, it's a subtle ivory on white, sometimes it's two shades of green or purple.   I really like them.  And so, apparently, do Bosnian people.

Honorable Mention

Walking Slowly.  Similar in principal to cafe-ing is taking a 'Sarajevo stroll.'   Someone told us that's what walking slowly is called here, but we can attest to the fact that it is not just a capital phenomenon.  You know how babies look all funny when their body is trying to move forward faster than their feet know how to?  That's me in Bosnia and Herzegovina.   I have managed not to clip the back of anyone's heels, but have found that the only way I can possibly move this slowly without coming to a complete stand still is by maintaining a strange, wide stepped waddle. Locals are much better at it.  These strolls are designed for conversation, not transit.  Which is probably why once a Bosnian gets in a car, they drive very fast. 

Things Bulgarian People Like

Re-Posted Death Notices.  We first noticed posted death announcements in Albania.  In each country since, we have stopped and looked at the simple, mostly black and white flyers with the departed person's photo, age and a brief word about them, hung at/near their residence.  In Bulgaria, we would see the same person's face on multiple notices, called "necrologs" here.  One young woman's face appeared on so many that we thought maybe it was actually a notice about her being missing. 'Have you seen this girl?'  As it turns out, Bulgarian tradition calls for a reposting of the necrolog on a number of anniversaries - 40 days, 3 months, 6 months, 1 year, 18 months, and then every year until there is no one left around to remember them.  Even with newspaper obits a regularity, most people still prefer this style of commemoration and continued celebration - to see one, two, five sets of grandma's eyes greeting you at your front door.

The Black Sea Coast.  It is pretty simple to see why Bulgarians would adore their coastline so much.  What country doesn't love their beach?  It's been funny, though, how adamant everyone has been about us getting back to the coast.  In other countries, we are asked where we have been and where we are going.  In Bulgaria, the question is always simply, "Have you been to the coast?!" When we answer that, yes, we spent three nights in Balchik, loads of suggested itineraries and recommendations are thrown our way for further travel down the coast.  It doesn't matter that it would now take us about 7 hours by bus to get there.  The thought is, why would we be anywhere else? 

Cautionary Cars.  The number of road fatalities in Bulgaria is about double the EU average and it was placed in the top five in car accident deaths in a large scale study of European countries, conducted in 2007.  It's so interesting that the ones who get the unfortunate crown are all countries with a low car ownership percentage and less traffic density. (Poland, Lithuania, Romania, Bulgaria).  Since then, the rate has dropped.  In fact, in 2011, the number of people killed in car crashes was the lowest it had been in 44 years.  We saw these totaled vehicles displayed throughout our many hours on the road.  Who knows how much they factor in to the positive change - and how much more of it has to do with road rehabilitation and the huge amount of traffic cops we also saw along our drives.  But there they are. Graphic proof of the risk.

A Side of Ice.  I've gotten a cup or small bucketful of ice with water, lemonade, wine, just about everything but beer.  There's always that joke that Americans have to come to terms with the fact that they won't often be served ice in Europe.  Some go so far as to say ice is 'an American thing.'  Well, I assure you, it is also a Bulgarian thing.  And it is wonderful.  Speaking of icy drinks...

Not Your Average Lemonade.  Well, not my average lemonade at least.  Beginning in Serbia, through Romania and now in Bulgaria, I have been on a lemonade kick.  Like fresh orange juice in many other locales, squeezed-to-order lemonade is a popular mainstay in the Balkans.  In Bulgaria, I was happy to see my summertime companion was just as readily available.  But I never knew exactly what I was going to get.  It could be lemon juice with sprite, with club soda or with water.  More than once, it was lemon juice with nothing else at all.  Merlin took the first sip of that one and the contortion of his face was priceless.  (and on that note)

Shopska Salad.  The Shopi people after which this ubiquitous salad is named are historically from the area surrounding Sofia.  So, even though it was absolutely everywhere in Macedonia, it is considered a Bulgarian thing.  Menus here almost always have a very long list of salads - which we'll go into with greater detail in a Bulgarian Food post to come.  But Shopska almost always wins out.  Here, a dozen or so tables are pre-set for a big party in Balchik.  All of the Balkan essentials are there, shopska salad, Coca Cola and Fanta.  The weddings that would inevitably be taking place wherever we stayed on a Friday or Saturday, would have the same place setting.  But, of course, with wine.  Tomato, cucumber, shredded sirene and a black olive on top.  It's as simple as that.

Front Yard Vineyards.  Bulgarian wine is great and they produce a lot of it.  Some statistics place it close to the tippy top of wine exporting countries in Europe.  Around 80% of Bulgarian wine winds up in the UK, the US and Russia (depending on how well they're getting along at the moment).  This is probably because it's a) way cheaper than any of their Western European competition and b) Bulgarians aren't crowding the wine aisle in the grocery store themselves.  They're simply making their own!  Especially in Southern Bulgaria, we saw grape arbors stretching door to door down small town streets. 

These Roadside Patrolling Stations or whatever they are.  Anyone know?  We just saw a manned one today in Sofia. I have to assume it is for policing purposes, but the design is just too unique not to mention.

Honorable Mention

Confusing Head Gestures.  Obviously, they are not confusing to other Bulgarians, but the fact that people shake their head for "yes" and nod it for "no" was very difficult to get used to.  It is something to know and keep top of mind if you plan on traveling to Bulgaria.  You sort of don't realize how much communication is done with nods (especially when their is a language barrier) until you find yourself in this situation.  You order something, they shake their head.  So, you order something else.  Now, they're confused. Your confused. Everyone's confused.  All because of a simple head shake.  Luckily, Bulgarians happen to be extremely nice and willing to work with bumbling reverse-nodders like us.

Things Albanian People Like

White head kerchiefs. It was one of the first things that set Albanians apart. Whether it was a nice lace kerchief, a simply cotton cloth or an old t-shirt, women opted to cover their heads with white fabric. Most non-religious head covering we've seen, throughout Eastern Europe and the Caucuses, was done in black or just whatever scarf was lying around. In Albania, they were uniformly white.

Littering. Unfortunately, Albanians really, really seem to like littering. Young men do it with relish, sending a wrapper or soda bottle out the window of a moving bus. We saw a woman at Berati Castle empty her cafe's small trash can over the edge of the castle walls. Needless to say, we got into the habit of carrying our garbage until we saw a proper place to dispose of it. Trash covers so much of Albania's beautiful landscape and is basically an ever multiplying invasive species in Tirana. It's a huge shame.

Molto Way. Just about half of the wrappers tossed here, there and everywhere were from Molto Way snacks. These cream-filled croissants are advertised on billboards all across the country and found in the hands of just about everyone. To be fair, there is also Replay, a rival filled croissant packaged snack, but Molto Way is definitely the front-runner in the market. We tried a Molto Way Double, filled with coconut frosting and chocolate frosting. As a loved one of ours likes to say, it was a "sugar gut bomb."

Living on the top floor. This is really a strange phenomenon and I haven't uncovered a reason. At first I thought it had to do with locking family members away to protect them from violent blood feuds, but it seems only to be "vernacular Albanian architecture," as one source put it. Since most houses are in some state of construction, these one floor homes on stilts are everywhere. Many finished houses never bother with walls on the bottom floor.

Warding Off the Evil Eye. While completing said construction, it's very important to ward off the evil eye. This is most often done with a stuffed animal hung from the highest point. We saw teddy bears, cabbage patch kids and one very large Spider-Man that would have fit in at a boardwalk carnival. Good luck charms in high places.

Bicycles. I've come to notice that a large amount of bicycle riding occurs in countries that are either particularly poor or particularly well off. It's probably because you either have a green initiative that develops bike paths and encourages the use of bikes for environmental and traffic purposes - or people simply can't afford cars. In Albania, this is definitely the case and even the bicycles are well-worn, antiques.

Loading down their bicycles. I just wanted an excuse to use this photo, because I couldn't decide between it and the one above. You don't usually think of bicycles as having a full trunk load - until you go to Albania.

Homemade Raki. This isn't the raki of Turkey, made from anise-seed like Greece's ouzo or France's pastis. It's more like moonshine, made from anything. Some locals like to liken it to grappa, but I'm not sure that grapes are necessary. It is often infused, always strong and, as far as we can tell, almost completely homemade. In fact, when we went to buy a small bottle of it, we could find none at all. Jack Daniels, Russian vodka, but no raki. What gives? We went to a bar and the woman pulled a whiskey bottle out when we inquired about raki. No, not whiskey. She handed us a taste. So, we were able to buy a bottle of raki after all - a whiskey bottle filled with the stuff. Home-made for sure.

Work-horses. They trotted alongside our rental cars on just about every non-highway road in the country. Most often, their carts were loaded with huge piles of long grass on their way to begin the transition into hay. We saw this horse-drawn mock pick-up truck a few times and were ecstatic about getting a photo. Sometimes, the horses carried only the load of its owner. This brings me to another thing Albanian people like, riding side saddle. We did not see a single person riding otherwise.


Honorable Mentions 

Being some of the nicest people we have ever encountered, anywhere. This is really true. We also benefited from two other things Albanian people like: Speaking English and America.

Things Maltese People Like

The (new) bus system. Last July was the end of an era in Malta. A British company named Arriva took over and transformed and regulated the bus system in Malta (which we've been using to get just about everywhere). Before the teal bus takeover, Maltese buses were a tourist attraction in and off themselves. They were yellow and white with red piping and consisted of some bus models that were no longer in use anywhere else on Earth. Buses were shipped over to the islands throughout the decades and never left. Privately owned, they were detailed, repaired and altered however the driver saw fit. We were disappointed that the vintage carriers were no longer in place, but the locals are nothing but pleased. For the first time ever, there is an actual bus schedule, cemented routes, efficient vehicles. The island of Gozo has service 7 days a week. Tourists may buy nostalgic postcards and magnets and long for the old days, but Maltese people sure do like the new bus system.
Limestone. In the article about bird hunting that Merlin referenced, Jonathan Franzen calls Malta's archipelago "densely populated chunks of limestone." He's not too far off. Above is a quarry we spotted on a walk down to the Dwejra coast. The soft, yellowish rock was, for a very long time, the only building material available on the island. And you can see by any picture with a chalky khaki colored backdrop, it's still used all the time. Usually, when you walk through a European neighborhood that was completely rebuilt after WWII, you see a hastily erected lego land of concrete. Here, since limestone was employed, the new buildings blended in with the old ones. Even some of the ugliest modern apartment blocks have a timelessness about them, because they're made from the same rock as all the rest.
Light bulb trimming. These are more than just your average big bulb Christmas lights. They are full on light bulb size and they light the trimming of churches across the country. I'm sure they create very pretty silhouettes in the dark, but during they day, they add an idiosyncratic tackiness to some pretty beautiful buildings. Something about them reminds of me Baz Luhrmann's William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet.
Naming their houses. Some memorable ones include Our Dream Home, Australian Paradise, God Bless USA and Love Nest. Most include the owner's name and, very often, a combination of names. For example, if a husband and wife are named Silvio and Marian, the house may be named Silmar. When all else fails, people tend to default to 'Madonnanina.'
Rattan door blinds. They are hung up over a majority of the doorways in Malta. I honestly cannot figure out why. I mean, there's already a door - why the second layer of covering? Maybe it's actually to protect the door from dust or damage? I did notice that during the midday break, many blinds were unrolled. So, possibly, it's the reverse of a welcome mat. When the blind is down, don't bother knocking.
Local products. Only 20% of Malta's food is domestically sourced. However, there's a huge appreciation for the products that are local. This specialty food shop on Gozo sold a plethora of products and the little stack in the foreground made up our purchase. Maltese capers, sea salt and lemon preserve. Menus specified if something was local, produce vans parked near bus stops and in town squares and you'd see people with grocery bags from the nearest supermarket stop to fill their fruit and vegetable needs with the little guys.
Butcher shops named after the butcher. This is a rare example of a name being grammatically correct. Teddy the Butcher. Usually, it went something like George's Butcher or Nick Butcher. It's like someone walked into these establishments that had been around forever and sold them a sign. Then came the task of figuring out what to put on the sign. I kept waiting for one to be open so that I could go in and ask if Teddy or George or Nick were there, but the timing never worked out.
This Land Rover. At first, we were sure we were seeing the same truck over and over. But when the colors began to differ, we realized that there are just an extraordinary number of old Land Rover Defender pick-ups on these islands. I'd never seen a pick-up Defender before and, at this point, I've seen about a dozen. I guess that's what you get from a former British colony.
Red phone booths. Speaking of Britishisms. A red phone booth, in which you can insert a prepaid card to make calls, punctuates the end of many Maltese blocks. When one happens to be placed next to a chalkboard reading "Steak and Kidney Pies," you really feel ye olde influence.