What are the Best Souvenirs?
Are the best souvenirs those with a great story, the rare finds, gifts from people you meet, the kitschy ones, or even the ones you didn’t buy?
Following my post about souvenirs from December1 last year, and a recent discussion here on Substack (find the links to related posts here), I’d like to dive into the world of my collection of souvenirs again. Don’t worry, I won’t bore you with my fridge magnet from Baku or the yurt keyring from Kyrgyzstan.
I’d like to highlight three souvenirs: one that can be defined as a great gift (from Pakistan), one with special meaning (from Ukraine), and one as a reminder of something you just happen to stumble upon (from Cambodia).
There are also souvenirs I didn’t buy.
I didn’t get anything in Algeria last year, mainly because I didn’t find a thing I liked. It could also be a sign that I need to return (I definitely would love to!). It was a short trip after all, just a peek into the north, between Algiers and Constantine. Despite that, I left the country with plenty of remarkable stories and a very hard-to-get visa2 in my passport.
And once again, I’m curious about your souvenirs—or, more precisely: why are they your best souvenirs?
An Egg from Ukraine 🇺🇦
For many reasons, I’m glad I travelled in Ukraine and got to know the people, the culture, the food and the drinks.
We arrived in Kyiv by night train from Minsk. That sounds rather aged now, doesn’t it? On one of our first days in the country, we experienced both traditional and modern Kyiv. That same day, I learned about the Pysanka eggs3 - and even saw an impressive art piece made from them. I brought one home, in Ukrainian blue and yellow.
The Pechersk Lavra monastery is one of the most important religious sites in Kyiv. The complex has several churches, and monks who died a long time ago are mummified in the monastery’s caves. Wearing long skirts and headscarves, we follow the crowd with candles. People shuffle past the glass coffins containing the monks. Visitors place their hands on the coffins, kiss them, press their foreheads against them, cross themselves in front of the mummies, or stand praying. Afterwards, we walk around the complex and hear music. We look over the wall and see a festival in the park next door.
That’s a whole different scenery! We leave the monastery behind us and walk via the memorial and the Motherland statue to the festival. Today’s programme features dance music. Upon entering, we see that it rather resembles a hip Western food truck party, but with significantly lower prices. There are sausages on a grill, homemade pickles, people in Ukrainian national colours, a weird-looking Daft Punk imitation on stage, and there is pivo all around.
Since the war started in 2022, I’ve been a volunteer in Amsterdam, helping in a refugee shelter. I just do the dishes while the Ukrainian chef cooks traditional dishes (occasionally, I’m allowed to cut some cucumber 🙏). We talk about food, recipes, the fresh produce she had in Ukraine, and living in the Netherlands. She always lets me taste things or even makes me cakes or dumplings. Because her birthday is around Easter, I gave her a nicely decorated Easter egg this year.
The King Sihanouk badge 🇰🇭
Between the death of King Sihanouk in October 2012 and the funeral in February 2013, quite some time passed. The cremation site still had to be built, at a cost of about $1.2 million. But by 2013, Phnom Penh was ready, and we were there. Not as an official Dutch delegation, but purely by coincidence.
The funeral of King Sihanouk lasts four days. On the third day, we join the event and walk to the palace together with thousands of Cambodians. Along the way, we buy a King Sihanouk badge, so that we look the part. Although we are not dressed in black and white like the locals, but in decent backpackers’ costumes. It is crowded everywhere, but everyone is in a state of peacefulness. Something you would expect on such a day. People queue to walk past the king’s coffin; others stand in front of the palace, holding portraits of the late king.
In the evening, fireworks are set off—and also some bombs disguised as fireworks. That is also a way of celebrating someone’s life. We suspect it is a generous donation from China, the country where the king has lived for a long time. Music echoes through all the streets; in front of the palace, we see hundreds of people sitting together, burning candles and incense, and still wearing the King Sihanouk badge with pride.
A Gift from Lahore, Pakistan 🇵🇰
After a road trip along the Karakoram Highway from Kashgar to Islamabad, Lahore was our last stop in Pakistan before heading to India (yes, we crossed the infamous Wagah border).
Lahore has a completely different dynamic from the Karakoram Highway and, in some ways, feels a bit like Kathmandu. It is chaotically busy. And hot. A constant stream of sweat is the result.
We walk through the old, lively city, full of historic buildings and the bazaar: roaring scooters, honking, swarming people, street food, big sacks of spices, and live chickens that are sold for about €1.45 each.
On the hostel’s rooftop terrace, we drink Pakistani pints. The hostel owner (truly the nicest ever!) arranges chapatis with shawarma for us. The last bit of Hunza water is finished as well. And no, it isn’t water.
Punjab
Lahore is in Punjab, just like Amritsar in India, about 50 km further on—our next destination. But first, we watch the people and the cheap chickens wake up in the historic centre, have breakfast at an eatery, and visit an old mosque, Lahore Fort, and the nearby Red Mosque.
In the hostel, there are plates hanging like the ones I saw on the richly decorated Pakistani trucks on the Karakoram Highway. I tell the hostel owner that I really like those trucks and ask him where we can buy something similar. He immediately grabs a chair and some tools to unscrew one of the plates from the wall.
Posts about Souvenirs
‘The stories make the souvenirs’ about the ideal characteristics of a souvenir by Souvenirs.
“A bad souvenir in one situation could be an amazing souvenir in another.”
‘The Scents of Thessaloniki’ is a piece about a sudden spree of souvenir buying in Thessaloniki by The Unplugged Traveler.
So I don’t usually buy souvenirs. But there was something about Thessaloniki that had me reaching for my wallet on several occasions.
The Travel Paradox dedicated a few very entertaining notes to souvenirs as well: Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.
“No thank you. No room in our backpacks, I always say. We do not buy souvenirs of travels – it’s one of our top 5 traveller’s rules.”
Of course, I’m recommending one of my posts. Naturally, I bought soap at the Soap Factory in Nablus, as it was the best factory I’ve ever visited!
More on this in Best Practice in Patience: The Algerian Embassy
The eggs are even listed by Unesco as Cultural Heritage
Thank you Marloes for including me in your newsletter. Part 4 of my series on souvenirs will be posted tomorrow morning. This one is about a very special ball of twine -- okay. that sounds weird. But hear me out ;-)
Sara, our suitcases are so packed that we don’t do souvenirs… or rather, we haven’t. We don’t do KFC either, but your piece has me yearning for some physical proof that we were there — in the small markets, amongst the people.
Maybe I should start shipping things back to our home base… or pick something tiny that doesn’t weigh much?
Such great ideas. I love this piece.