Cordoba - and how the amount of time you spend in a place can make all the difference.

Cordoba, Argentina

The world is a huge place, so even though we spend so much of our time travelling, we know that we are still never going to get to see all of it - it just isn't possible.

With that in mind, it can be difficult to decide whether to do a frantic dash between as many places as we can, or to spend longer in fewer, getting to know them a bit better. We also have to think hard about whether to return to a place we've been and liked, or to forego that in favour of a new destination that you might prefer, or may not like at all.

Cordoba, Argentina

In general, we do tend to travel slower, but we try not to return to most places. But we decided to make an exception for Cordoba.

I'll write about what we did in Cordoba in the next post, but for now, what we found interesting, was they way that our two different visits demonstrated how much your experience of a place can vary, depending on how long you spend there.

Last time we were in the city, it was a flying visit. It was the first stop on our Dragoman trip in 2011, and we only spent one day here. In an effort to fit in a few more of the sights, a number of us took one of these sightseeing bus tours, something we rarely do.

We quite liked what we had seen back then, with the grandeur of the old cathedral and the Jesuit buildings, being complemented by the more modern park and sculptures. However, having re-read our blog post from back then, it confirmed our feeling that we didn't really feel we'd had long enough there.

Cordoba, Argentina

So we decided to go back, and get to know the place a bit better, making it our 'luxury' treat for my birthday, and spending five days there, at a nice hotel. As it turned out, with the change to our travel plans, we added another three days at the start, staying at the same hostel that we had the last time. This was actually a coincidence, as Nic booked it, and he hadn't realised it was the same place.

This time around, we weren't so impressed. Yes, the old buildings - of which there are quite a few - were still lovely. And we did enjoy our hotel and some of the restaurants, but we were left a little disappointed with the city centre itself.

Cordoba, Argentina

It didn't help that Nic had sprained his ankle, meaning that we couldn't walk around as much as we'd have liked to, so we didn't get out to the park to see the Ferris wheel designed by Gustav Eiffel, (he of the Eiffel Tower,) or some of the other less central spots.

But our problem was a bit more fundamental than that. I suppose that we had envisaged a city a bit like Prague; somewhere with some great star pieces, backed up by nice general architecture, a cosmopolitan feel with stylish shopping areas, interesting products, and a few grand cafes. As it turned out, whilst it certainly does have the star pieces, I think that Nic summed it up when he said, as we walked through the main central shopping streets, that it is like being in Croydon.

Cordoba, Argentina

Now, with apologies to anyone who loves Croydon, I think that most people who know it, wouldn't exactly put it high on their list of places to go to. It's one of those towns that just has the same dull high street shops, lacks any positive character, and looks a bit run down. I should perhaps add that I haven't been there in the last few years, so you never ,  know, it may have undergone a transformation in that time.

So this is where Cordoba fell down for us. Once you spend a bit more time in the older area of Cordoba, you discover that they just haven't put in the effort to maintain the 'normal' shops and other buildings. The architecture looks haphazard, with jarring styles, and there are some rather ugly buildings, and bad conversions, that take away what character was there. A lot of it looks unplanned, unloved and a bit dull.

Cordoba, Argentina

It may well be that they just haven't had the funding available to spend here, which if so, is a shame, but we were left with the impression that if they could just get rid of some of the worst buildings, tidy up the rest, add a bit of colour, and encourage some more interesting shops and cafes, they could have a lovely city centre, that matches up to the promise of the more obvious attractions.

But it isn't all bad. On the plus side, the old bits are lovely, and when we looked beyond the centre, there is an area called New Cordoba, which is where all of the stylish and smarter establishments are setting up, and there is a nice little artisan area, which is also where the good bars are to be found.

We liked these areas, and I suspect that, if we were to spend longer here again, we would probably choose to stay around there, and may well find that we enjoyed the city that much more as a result.

So in this instance, it seems that a flying visit is great, because you just do the best bits of the tourist sights. A slightly longer visit is a bit disappointing, because you have time to visit the less impressive sights and see more of the dull and unattractive bits. But with a little longer still, you can get to know the places where the locals go, which raises the experience back up again.

Oh, and the photos on this post are from last time we were in Cordoba.

St Patrick's Day, Dallas style (Throwback post)

I don't know whether it is the leprechauns, but people across the globe, especially but not only the english speaking areas, seem to want to claim a bit of Irish ancestry.  Sadly I suspect the real reason people like the idea of being Irish is that they associate the nationality with Guinness, Craic and a whole lot  of drinking.

There are of course a lot of people with some Irish ancestry in other countries, particularly the States as so many emigrated there in the 1840s when they were hit by the potato famine.  But whilst there may be a bit of Irish blood there somewhere, it is pretty well diluted by now, and most of the descendants have never even been to Ireland, so I do find all of this claiming to be Irish just a bit ridiculous.

I'm not saying that people shouldn't recognise their ancestry, but really, when you were born in the States, your parents, grandparents and great-grandparents were born in the States, you've lived your whole life in the States, have a US accent, never even leave the States for a holiday, and obsess about the right to carry a gun, then face it, you're not Irish.

Mind you, it appears that being Irish may not matter anyway, as St Patrick was not Irish himself!  He was from Great Britain and was taken to Ireland as a child worker.  It is not clear where in Britain he was from; Scotland and Wales are both possibilities, but it is suggested he was from the north of England.

But whether people are truly Irish or not, there are Irish Bars everywhere.  Some are more "authentic" than others; for example I remain entirely unconvinced by the 'traditional Irish curry' being advertised in an Irish bar in Skopje, Macedonia.  And half the world seems to celebrates St Patrick's Day.

We were in Dallas for St Patrick's Day this year, and we joined our Couchsurfing hosts at the parade.  There were certainly great swathes of emerald green being worn, a lot of Guinness hats and 'kiss me I'm Irish' t-shirts.  And there was a lot of alcohol being consumed.

But aside from the green shamrock festooned decor, the parade itself could have been any other parade.  There was one pipes and drums band at the start, but beyond that there was not a hint of Irish music, traditional or otherwise.  There was no celebration of Irish ancestry or heritage here, unless of course your understanding of Irish culture is simply that a lot of drinking is done.

I'm not for a second suggesting that the Irish don't drink on St Patrick's Day, or a lot more often than that, but it is quite sad when that is the full extent of their attempt at embracing the culture.  And by the way, calling it St Paddy's Day may be OK, but St Patty's Day is just wrong!

And on the subject of drinking, where on earth do Budweiser get the idea that they can, with any seriousness, take a holiday that is famed for the consumption of Guinness, and use it to advertise Bud light!

So am I just being a miserable killjoy?  Well maybe, but I don't think so.  I like to see people celebrating their own culture and that of other people.  I like a good drink.  I just find it laughable that people pretend so hard to be something that they very clearly are not, just so they have an excuse to drink.  After all - who needs an excuse!

A right to die

In my last post I said that after we arrived in Cuba, my mum told me my aunt had passed away.  Whilst a surprise that it happened just then, it wasn't  entirely unexpected that she might die before my return, as she had made it very clear that she wanted her life to end.

I realise that this may seem an odd thing to write about in a travel blog, and it may not be easy to read, but I am writing it because I believe the issue of a person having the right to choose to die is important. It certainly was to my aunt, both on a personal level and in principle, and she was keen to bring the issue to people's attention.

My aunt had a disease called Distonia and as a result became a wheelchair user at the age of twelve, also developing increasing disabilities in the use of her arms and with her speech.  For many years she lived with her parents and was cared for by them; later she moved into a Leonard Cheshire residential home.  This was good, as she was able to take advantage of the activities that the home offered, and so she improved her quality of life somewhat.

As well as participating in arts and crafts, computer studies and therapies in the home, she was able to go on trips to theatres and sporting events, and to take holidays.  She became involved in improvement activities for people with disabilities, representing her peers at national meetings and writing to MPs and the media on issues such as the mobility allowance that she relied upon to enable her to make trips out of the home.  She took the opportunities to live and enjoy her life despite her disabilities.

However those disabilities were gradually making her life more and more difficult particularly as her speech made it harder for her to communicate with people in the way that she would have liked, making her feel isolated and, at times, lonely.  She knew it would only worsen, and a few years ago she made it clear to us that she did not want to go on living.

She started to look into the right to die.  With the help of a solicitor, she drew up documents saying that she did not want to be resuscitated or fed intraveneously, but rather she wished to be allowed to die. Of course that would only work if a life threatening situation arose.

Not wishing to just wait for that, she thought about taking her own life.  She had discussed it with my mum, and we were all very clear that this was not just a bad phase but what she truly wanted.  So we agreed to support her right to decide.

Someone else may have just been able to take their life.  But it was not that simple for my aunt.  She lacked the physical capability that is required for many forms of suicide, and the opportunity for most others.  She could perhaps have driven her wheelchair in front of a train, but understandably that kind of approach that could be dangerous and distressing to others is not one that she would have wanted to use.

And it is not a task that someone else can help you with.  Suicide itself is not illegal in the UK, but assisting someone else still is.  Whilst the Director of Public Prosecutions has given some helpful indications that they will not automatically prosecute someone who they are satisfied was genuinely acting in line with the wishes of the person, at present it would still be an illegal act.  So it would very likely cause significant difficulties even if, in the end, no formal prosecution happened.

So my aunt looked into the Dignitas Clinic in Switzerland where, in well defined circumstances, it is legal for a trained nurse to assist you.  It is costly, and my aunt had limited funds, so family would probably have had to help her financially, as well as in getting to the clinic for both the initial consultation and then the act itself.  It is unclear whether even just that help would still have been illegal.

There also was a risk that they may not accept her.  The problem is that the method of suicide is poison, which you have to take by yourself.  My aunt drinks through a straw and had difficulty swallowing quickly, so may have been unable to drink it herself, or worse, may have only managed to drink some, and do herself terrible internal damage but yet not die.

So if she decided to go ahead, this would be a difficult and anxiety ridden route for her to take, but she was actively considering it.

Then three days before we set off for Cuba, I went with my mum to visit my aunt at the residential care home where she lives.  When we arrived, we found that the home had called the GP out to see her, because they were concerned about her.

Without going into a lot of unnecessary detail, it was clear that she was not well, and the GP took it upon themself to call a non-emergency ambulance and have her taken to hospital.  Even though it is especially hard for my aunt to speak when she is ill, while we waited for the transport to arrive, she made it absolutely clear to us that she did not want to be treated if, without treatment, she could die.

When the ambulance came, they told us that even with the documents that she had, they were not permitted to withhold lifesaving treatment should the need arise, and that once at the hospital, a specific form was required, which could be signed only after she had been seen by two doctors.  And the form is only valid for three weeks.  We were astounded firstly that no one had told my aunt this previously, and that secondly the paperwork would have to be renewed so regularly to be valid.

Thankfully we made it to the hospital and got the proper paperwork done, but my mum and I repeatedly had to reiterate to the staff that my aunt was refusing to be treated until we knew whether what she had was life threatening.  

On a couple of occasions it had certainly looked like she was terminally ill, but she rallied.  By the early hours, they had decided that what she had was not life threatening, so we explained this to my aunt.  She was disappointed, but agreed to have the treatment.  We had been assured though that if at any point it became clear that her situation was potentially fatal, treatment could be stopped.

When I left for Cuba, as far as we knew she was not going to die, and in fact they were thinking of releasing her the next day.

Instead, she took a turn for the worse and stronger treatments were required to save her.  At which point my mum had to get into an almighty battle with the doctor to prevent him from treating my aunt against her will.  Despite the paperwork and despite my aunt's wishes, because she could be easily treated, and it was too difficult for my aunt to communicate clearly to him at that time, he was determined that he must save her.

My mum on the other hand, was equally determined that, despite how hard she found it personally, she would ensure that my aunt's wishes were adhered to, and she fought them all the way.  They referred it higher, and eventually decided to respect what my aunt wanted.  They made her comfortable but gave her no treatment, and in due course, she passed away.

So my aunt did get what she wanted, and whilst we are sad that she is no longer with us, we are glad that she did.  It is just a shame that it has to be so hard for someone with full mental competence to be able to do so.

Of course this issue is a complex one, and there will always be dangers that any system could be abused.  I am in no way advocating a system that allows someone to be coerced into ending their own life; it should only be on the clear and tested wishes of the individual.  And it should not be a replacement for good palliative care, just an alternative for those who wish it.  Because for some people, the quality of their life is more important than the quantity, and they are the only people who can judge whether or not they are content with the quality.

It seems wrong to me that we are prepared to let an animal be put to sleep in order to avoid it suffering, but we are reluctant to give people the ability to make that decision for themselves and help them to find a simple, peaceful and dignified way to achieve it.  Had there been a legal process in place in the UK, my aunt could have chosen her time to go, having said her goodbyes to people, and my mum would not have had the horrible situation of having to demand that her sister be allowed to die, when really all she wanted to do was to be able to support and comfort her in her last hours.