The Budget Babe's International Travel Advisor Fifi LaMode admits a fondness for fjords and a soft spot for trolls in the Land of the Midnight Sun. —TBB


by Fifi LaMode
Norway is probably the richest country in Europe. Oil is why. Before the days of North Sea oil, it was one of the poorest. Things are expensive here, VERY expensive. A pizza for 2 in a chain restaurant, and a beer apiece, will run $40. A meal for 2 in a nice restaurant? $300. Ok, that's the bad news. The good news is that the scenery is really spectacular. The fjords are beautiful, mystical, and ubiquitous.

Tied in with this mysticism are legends about trolls, strange little shape-shifters, which, as myths go, explained much of the unexplainable in the old days. For example, trolls sometimes change themselves into seductive women and thus keep the farmboys away from their chores. But here's how you can tell if it's a girl or a troll - the tail. They can't hide their tails. So if a lad is approached by a comely lass and has his suspicions, he'd do well to check under her skirt to see if she's hiding a tail.
OK, I'm not making this up - This is what trolls do. LOL

Back to the here and now - the big attraction in the Norwegian countryside (aside from the fjords), are wooden houses. You're thinking, "Oooooh, like we don't have that here?" Not with grass roofs, we don't. Why grass? Must be so the trolls can have picnics without venturing far from home! Every 25 yrs or so these grass roofs need replacing because the roots get too big and make cracks in the ceiling.

Again, I'm not making this up.

The effect is like something out of a fairy tale. Very cute. So we have lovely fjords and wooden houses with grass roofs. Very nice.

In contrast to the pristine countryside, city streets are not particularly clean, garbage cans are always full, and sidewalks have weeds growing out of them. Go figure. Grass on roofs, weeds on sidewalks. Maybe it's a "we're one with nature" thing.

What is also strange is the complete lack of fashion sense. For a wealthy European country the people are shabbily dressed. The young especially look sloppy and not particularly fit. The look is pretty much like the people in "My Name is Earl." Maybe it's because the clothes are so expensive? I don't think so. In other countries, like Poland and Croatia, people are less wealthy and yet many are elegantly and neatly dressed.

The upside is that, unlike in countries where fashion is a way of life, Norwegians don't really care what YOU look like. I wore the same pair of jeans all week because, why bother? Nobody seemed to notice. People were pleasant and friendly all around. You don't see flash jewelry or flash anything for that matter. Stores? The usual, H&M, blah blah blah. In an entire week I did not see one store that I could recommend. There are one or 2 upscale boutiques which feature local designers, (literally one or 2) and if you like folk-themed knits for $400 and up, you'll find something.

But for the budget-minded shopper looking for a local trinket, get a troll. A little one (about 4 inches high) costs around $15 and the odd little critters with long tails look cute when you get them back home.

An awe-inspiring journey to the cradle of Western Civilization has the Budget Babe's International Travel Advisor Fifi LaMode channeling the ancients and singing their praises. —TBB


by Fifi LaMode
Athens is great. It's big, it's busy, it's noisy, it's teeming with life. After a 10 hour overseas flight, it's downright overwhelming. We stop at a cafe in Omonia Square, the business hub of the city, sip a cappucino, and people-watch. Stalls abound, selling newspapers, chachkis, whatever. People from just about everywhere converge on this metropolis (a Greek word, you know).

But a different Athens awaits us in the evening. We go to Plaka, and from the ruins of the old city we look up at the Acropolis. My husband suggests we climb to the top. I ask where the cable car is. He says the ancient Greeks had no cable cars. I reply that the ancient Greeks were dead by the time they were my age!

We climb. It looks harder than it is—actually quite a gentle climb. Here we are, the Parthenon, in all its splendor. You've seen the pictures, but it doesn't compare to the reality, actually being in the same place as Socrates, Pericles, Demosthenes, et al. And the view takes your breath away. I'm choked with emotion and can not believe I'm actually here.

All the ancient history and mythology I studied as a child comes back to life in front of me. I touch one of the marble columns and feel it channelling the past. Athens, the birthplace of democracy. It's truly hard to convey in words what it feels like to be here. Looking out over the city, we wonder what it looked like for the ancients when they stood in the same place. It's hard to tear ourselves away.

At the bottom of the hill, we come across the ruins of the Agora, the marketplace, the forerunner of the shopping center. Now it's a tranquil place: There are just columns, some stone benches (where no doubt weary husbands rested while their wives tried on the latest jewelry and sandals), and some sleeping dogs. But it's huge. This was the real center of town in its heyday. The philosophers strolled down its streets with their pupils, along with ordinary citizens going about their day-to-day business.

When we see the crowded streets in the new part of town (actually, practically all of Athens is the new part of town—this is the only old bit), we stop and think what travelers a few hundred years from now will see of this busy city. But for now we ponder how short our time here is compared to the millenia of history we view during our travels. Puts all our problems in a different perspective, doesn't it?

Two hundred years from now, will it matter how much we saved at Macy's last weekend, or whether we saw some new film the first weekend it played? Will it matter 2 weeks from now? So what remains after OUR agoras have turned to ruins? If we live wisely, the same as in Athens: The principles, the philosophy, the art this wonderful civilization passed on to us.

The Budget Babe's International Travel Advisor Fifi LaMode soaks up the sights, sounds and soothing sea-air of the ever-evolving city of Varna, Bulgaria. —TBB


by Fifi LaMode
I admit I knew little of Varna before I went there. My primary reason for taking a cruise on the Black Sea was to see the Crimea, so I took little notice of the other stops thrown in to fill out the itinerary. This is one of the joys of travelling—sometimes the places you have the least expectations of turn out to be among the nicest.

Varna is the third largest city in Bulgaria, a Black Sea Port, and a spa town, due to its mineral waters. It is a popular resort among eastern Europeans and more increasingly, among western Euros as well. As in most old countries that are new again (due to the end of the Cold War, EU subsidies, and foreign developers seizing initiatives to make big bucks before prices skyrocket), you see many restored old buildings; these are in a turn-of-the-century Balkan Art Nouveau style. Very pretty. Many parks and trees; one park by the water has old helicopters, tanks, and other weapons of war on display. Can't read Bulgarian but I gleaned they were from WW 2. Interesting, but strange.

The downtown area is a clean pedestrian district with wide avenues, lined with trees and teeming with cafes. People are friendly, they look more Turkish than Slavic (don't tell them that—they were under Ottoman rule once and don't like to be reminded of the fact), and prices are relatively cheap (for Europe). It's a quiet, peaceful, yet lively town. There's a lovely Orthodox cathedral—Orthodox churches all seem to look like somebody's vision of heaven when you walk inside—plenty of paintings of angels and saints in bright, beautiful colors.

Not that much English is spoken but you can get by with a little of everything, English, French, German, anything Slavic. This will change, as many Euros, especially Brits, are buying retirement properties in Bulgaria.