Blue, Bluer, Superblue, Hammerfest

Hammerfest, Norway, January 2015

A flashback from a trip done previously

Hammerfest is a small town in the North of Norway, until recently the most northern town of the world. The town is on the coast, by a fjord, surrounded by mountains. In summer it's said to be lively, but in the middle of winter it slumbers cosily. We spent a couple of weeks in Hammerfest January 2015. We being a contemporary dance group and me being its lighting designer, planning a new performance in the residency of Dansearena Nord.

Welcome to Hammerfest!

My original plan for January was to go to Thailand hammocking, but one should be careful for what one wishes for, since one might get the very opposite.

It's not simple to get to Hammerfest, especially in winter: Our route proceeded from Helsinki to Copenhagen, from Copenhagen to Oslo, from Oslo to Tromsø and from Tromsø to Hammerfest, planes getting smaller and clientele less posh every leg.

This is not Thailand

It was a good trip, though. We got some work done, met some nice people, took turns in having a stomach flu and I even had some time to see the sights. If you really curb your speed, you might end up using one whole afternoon to see them. My list of recommendations is as follows, but most of all I loved the hues of blue, colouring the scenery all julianonderdonk.

I have no idea what this is

Hammerfest Church

Burning churches was a fad in Norway some time ago, so architect Harald Magnus was clever in advance in choosing concrete as the main material for the church, completed in 1961. There are triangles everywhere in the construction, also in the colourful glass painting by Jardar Lunde. Oh my Gordiskknute, that's one confusing altarpiece! I'm not quite sure if Christ is dying, ascending or being captured by aliens. Anyhow, it's a groovy piece of art

Museum of Reconstruction

Gjenreisningsmuseet tells a sordid story of Hammerfest during and after World War II. Shortly put: before the war Hammerfest existed, after the war it did not. As the German army retrieved, it was scorched-earth policy all the way. There were two options for people in demolished Hammerfest, to be forcibly evacuated to southern cities or to hide in the woods and caves, waiting for the Allied Forces to arrive – which took way longer than expected. Quite an experience, even after seventy years. Luckily, there's a museum cafe with ultimate comfort food: warm waffles. You'll need them.

There wasn't a sudden summer day in January,
the photo is from Wikimedia Commons, by Manxruler,
since I failed to take one

The Ultimate Blueness

At the time of our visit, sun didn't rise above the horizon at all. Still, there was some daylight, like for fifteen minutes per day. After that it started getting blue. And bluer. And then, even bluer. Then, it got Klein International Blue. Then, Klein International Bluer. Just when I thought it possibly couldn't get bluer than THIS, it got bluer. And then some. And then, it was dark. You could suggest that this blueness happens elsewhere, too, but hello, I'm a tourist and experienced it here so I won't listen.

It did get even bluer, but my camera refused to believe.

The scenery might have affected the lighting design
of the piece we were working on

The Arctic Culture Center 

Check their website, the Center might have something of your interest in the program: concerts, plays, dance, movies, you name it, mostly during evenings. The building is worth seeing in its own right, too, with a scenic window facing the bay, and a café, should it be open. The building is somewhat a landmark of the town, lighted blue during the dark.

Arctic Culture Centre, this is where we worked

Nissen Mall

A small shopping mall slightly resembling an offshore oil rig, Nissen includes an almost hipster café and a shoe store called Eurosko. Among the usual shoes, you can find some pretty cool traditional and traditional-ish shoes here.

Pieces of information
• More about traveling in Hammerfest area in the Northern Norway webpage, including Hammerfest Church and Gjenreisningsmuseet
• Other people exploring Hammerfest: Vagabond Baker
• Fresh after the trip, I wrote about it to Kummat kengät blog from shoe perspective, in Finnish.
• Arctic Culture Center's website, in Norwegian

Combi takes me to the Daffodil City

Izamal, Mexico, February 17th to 22nd 2018

Google had told me that Izamal is called The Yellow City and I added it to my itinerary immediately. As usual, I didn't quite believe the Internet and expected to find a few worn out ex yellowish buildings around the center, but since I kind of like yellow, that was enough. 

Oh my Gooseberry, was I happily surprised on arrival!

I took a combi, a van packed with fifteenish people, from Mérida after arriving there from Progreso by bus. I bought a blue 30 pesos chip from a man in front of the Similares pharmacy in the corner of Calles 65 and 54, pushed my suitcase to the back of the van he pointed me to and squeezed myself in the car. The van became filled with people quite soon, the chips were collected and off we went. The combis don't have timetables, they leave whenever they're full.

As the combi majestically glided in Izamal, I saw a town supersaturated in my favourite hues of yellow: egg yolk, yellow cab, sunflower, daffodil and banana ice cream from the days of my youth, working in a ice cream parlor! And not just a few buildings, but all of them in the centre. Well, with some white houses amongst them, but merely for ornamental function I guess. Like the white parts in daisies, only there to highlight the yellow.

The yellowest of them all is the Convento de San Antonio, a church/monastery in the middle of the town. It was built on top of a Mayan pyramid, which kind of gives a sour colonialist hue to the beauty of the building, and the city at large. The huge atrium seemed to be in good use of the locals, there was some kind of dinner party organized on the lawn, as I visited the monastery.

Pope John Paul visited in 1993, a statue was erected and
the city was painted yellow.

I very much liked the overall colour coordination,
enclosing even the trash bins.

I was quite colour coordinated, too

I'm afraid the deep and painful regret pictured here
was not originated from destroying ancient Mayan temples

Seen from the rear, the monastery looks a little like a theatre
decor, meant to be seen from the front only

The Izamal central area is conveniently rich with Mayan ruins, and there is at least one Mayan pyramid left, with nothing built on it. On top of Kinich Kak Mo, a temple designated to Sun god of the same name, there's a good view to the town and surrounding areas, in addition to historical value. Climbing to the middle level is quite enough, I tell you.

On the middle level.
Panting.

From Kinich Kak Mo temple,
you can see the suburbian, rougher side of Izamal,
comprising of approximately four houses

After all the climbing I was super hungry, but wanted a change in the menu, so I picked a Japanese restaurant on Calle 31, called Ikigai. Based on the miniature prices of the dishes, I induced them to be miniature sized, so I took three portions. Lo and behold, three full size meals were brought in front of me. Luckily, the food was not just affordable, but also very good, especially the Teriyaki.

The street plan of Izamal is a little more complex than in most of other, strictly grid planned cities in Yucatan, mostly because of the two instead just one central square and the monastery. In the picture above the smaller square, Parque 5 de Mayo. The larger one, Parque Itzamna, has most of the nice cafés, comfortably shadowed by the arched vaults, but in the corner of 5 de Mayo there is the Centro Cultural Y Artesanal, which inhabits most interesting specimens of folk art and design. I'm usually not that much into folksy things, but works here have pretty cheeky artistic touch in them and are not afraid to break out of traditionality.

Angélico Jiménez: Nahual (2006)

Angel Santos Juarez: Leon Coronado (2006)

Mauricio Hernández Colmenero: Calaca panadera con novia (2006)

I haven't paid too much attention to my lodgings in this blog, but my hotel in Izamal deserves an exception. Macan Ché consists of separate houses of different shapes and sizes, arranged in a big, lush garden, with pond like swimming pool and lots of hammocks. And a great breakfast. Every house and room is different so I guess there are murkier options, but I was super happy with my India room. First floor, windows on three sides it was almost like outside, in a good way. 

Of course, there was a hotel cat. Still al little shy here,
but sleeping on my laptop the next day already.

Corner of the India room

The hotel was far enough from the centre not to be totally yellow

Izamal was a perfect ending for my Yucatan trip. I still had five and a half hours bus trip to Cancun ahead of me – highly recommended, see a lot of small villages, just do not drink too much, no toilet in the bus – and then a night in Cancun where my flight to New York was to depart. But Cancun doesn't really even count. Except for realizing that I'm too old to sleep in a hostel, even in a single room. 

Way too old.

Pieces on information

• Izamal in Wikitravel

• Other people exploring Izamal: To Travel Too, Earth Trippers,  Mexico Cassie

One Night Stand with Soul Sucking Fish

Valladolid, Mexico, February 8th to 9th 2018

On my way from Holbox to Merida I decided to stay in Valladolid overnight, because of interest but also because of mistakenly leaving a gap in my hotel reservations. It was good bad luck, since Valladolid is a lovely place; beautiful, historical, elegant in a somewhat old fashioned way. The hotels seemed to be a tad cheaper than in other cities I visited – or maybe the valladolidians are just used to posher environments – so even I could afford one night in a fancy hacienda style hotel by the main square.

Softer hues of Valladolid

I quite enjoyed my hotel's restaurant and its Plato tipico.

Even restaurants around the main square are affordable and, at least the one I stumbled into, very good – even though I found myself sitting on a miniature chair by a miniature table, feeling quite Alice.  And, just like in Wonderland, a parade marched by all of a sudden. A miniature parade.

Right, food. There is a dish called Plato tipico, which translates roughly as Hello, I'm a tourist and can't decide what to eat. I ate that a lot. At its best, it can be haute cuisine symphonic assortment of best dishes of the area – and at its worst a selection of leftovers from previous decades' shoe industry. Ordering a plato tipico is living on the edge, baby. If you're a fan of Finnish Christmas ham, you should also try Cochinita pibil, slow cooked pork.

From the restaurant I spotted what I thought was an art gallery. As there were more than five people in and it was quite late, I suspected a vernissage. In hopes of free win... fresh art I rushed in and to the first floor to find something actually more interesting: Palacio Municipal's great hall with its huge paintings picturing the history of Yucatan. Interesting exhibition, beautiful building, nice view to the main square.

At the time I reached the gallery, the crowd had dissolved

If you'd like to visit a cenote, a sinkhole with fresh water in it, placed in a cave / half in a cave / no affiliation to a cave whatsoever, there's one beautiful half-in-a-cave example handy available in Valladolid's central area, cenote Zaci. As the tourist guides and Instagram constantly remind, you can swim in most of the cenotes and that holds true to Zaci, too. For a second I was sorry I didn't take my swimsuit with me and was too shy for a public skinny dipping, being sober and all. Then I noticed the ominous black, eyeless fish slithering in the water, just waiting to suck my soul to an ancient Mayan Hell, so I didn't feel so bad anymore.

Zaci is quite pretty, and in the mornings peaceful, too

Evil fishfolks, pretending to be harmless

I arrived to the cenote early when it was still closed (opens at 9 am), so I had a walk around the block to kill some time and get me an ice cream. As I happily consumed the smurf-coloured delicacy in one of the area's typical confidant park seats, I noticed a yellow church. As visits to museums and churches are an essential part of my adventurous travels, I headed in. The church was still half closed, but a friendly janitor waved me in anyhow.

St. Anne's turned out to be one of the most beautiful churches I've seen. It is not one of those overtly decorated piggy banks of God the most famous churches tend to be, but simple, even cumbersomely modest building, oozing the devotion of it's builders and users rather than showing off Jesus' wealth (irony intended). The detailed blue hued glass painting of the patron saint high in the wall is a beautiful contrast to the rougher shapes of the rest of the building.

In reality the glass painting is way bluer than my camera thinks

The peace of mind acquired in the church didn't last the trial of the Valladolid ADO bus station, though. About the station: There's one gate to the platforms, which you are not allowed to go through until your bus arrives. The gate area is full of people listening to the officer announcing the incoming buses and people elbowing their way to the just announced departures. I didn't succeed in finding a spot where I could hear the announcements and not be on everybody's way, so I shifted back and forth. I have to admit that I had a minor tourist meltdown after waiting for an hour, then being told my bus had gone already without me hearing the announcement, no money back – insert meltdown here – oh wait, no, there it is now, run! – insert one happy tourist elbowing her way to the bus heading to Mérida here.

Pieces of information

 • Other people exploring Valladolid: Gypsynesters, Charlie on Travel, Goats on the Road, Mangostania (in Finnish)

• Valladolid in Wikitravel