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Statistics |
| Unique Visitors: 35 |
| Total Unique Visitors: 212254 |
| Visitors Out: 2072 |
| Total Visitors Out: 2480 |
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| Cochin, Kerala |
| 2007-08-27 10:42:15 |
The train rattled along, inducing in me the sluggish fatigue of rock-rocking train travel and blanketing heat. I sat atop a wooden luggage rack in third class, legs crossed, ankles pressed into the hard wood, to prevent my mosquito bitten feet from dangling in the faces of the people below. The man beside me sat [...]
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| Mysore |
| 2007-08-21 07:16:56 |
The typical Indian bus resembles scrap. It is made of metal sheets, generously dented, perhaps a metre wide. The sheets are joined one to another by rivets, and this leaves a visible seam – covered and reinforced, in places, by a dull-silver strip.
It has rectangular openings positioned along its sides. The openings resemble windows, [...]
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| Village Homestay, Karnataka |
| 2007-08-08 02:27:28 |
A cock crowed, and crowed and crowed. I straightened, flopped my legs from the end of our just-bigger-than-single bed, and stood. I picked through a pile beside my bag, found a towel, toothbrush, toothpaste and the plastic tub containing our soap. I left Claire to sleep.
A sun-blackened man had slept in the next room. [...]
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| Goa |
| 2007-08-05 09:12:30 |
Vagator, one of Goa’s coastal tourist towns, was said by our guidebook to have “long been the hot location for the outdoor rave parties that made the Goa party scene famous.†But on the day that we arrived, with only a week till Christmas, and accommodation supposedly jam-packed, it was deserted.
The restaurants were all empty, [...]
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| Matheran |
| 2007-07-29 11:15:31 |
The miniature train, royal blue with shiny red trimmings, known fondly as the ‘toy train’, waited patiently on its narrow tracks at Neral Junction. We boarded, and began the slow, winding 800 metre ascent to Matheran, a small town set amidst mountains and forest – its name means ‘jungle topped’.
We sat opposite two Indian women: [...]
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| Mumbai |
| 2007-07-24 09:32:59 |
“An individual-to-individual callousness… is still so strong in the country that it is the greatest danger for a foreigner living in India, for it is a frighteningly easy thing to find it creeping into one’s soul.â€
A. M. Rosenthal, The Future in Retrospective
I stepped, not looking, and slid; swayed backwards, snapped forward, and stopped. A smear [...]
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| A Passage to India (with apologies to E.M. Forster) |
| 2007-07-11 06:09:05 |
“The brown skins, the bare feet, the nose-rings, the humped bullocks – all these things were foreseeable, seemed obvious and familiar from the moment of landing. The really odd, unexpected thing about Bombay was its birds. There are more birds in the streets of this million-peopled city than in an English woodland.â€
Aldous Huxley, Jesting Pilate: [...]
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| Jerusalem |
| 2007-06-29 15:05:07 |
A predawn haze lit the kilometre of road before us. We trudged along it, still groggy from the half hearted slumber of our bus ride from Cairo. Through a small strip ‘of no man’s land’ we entered Israel, and left Egypt behind us. The immigration office was small, with gleaming white tiles on the floor [...]
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| Tout Like an Egyptian |
| 2007-06-13 08:18:19 |
A train deposited Iain and I in Aswan four hours behind schedule. A crowd of soldiers in combat uniforms guarded the platform, torso sized shields in their fists. A large group of convicts had been transported in the train that had taken us overnight from Cairo.
“We must hurry now,†said Omar, who strode through the [...]
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| Cairo |
| 2007-06-06 00:36:12 |
Ports are transitional: the places where countries merge, before coexisting on boats. Men had staggered clumsily through the pitching Ulysses, which took us from Rosslare to Cherbourg. They drank Guinness in the cabaret bar, and watched wide smiling dancers perform can cans or off balance jigs. On the less bumpy journey from Brindisi to Patras, [...]
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| Petra |
| 2007-05-26 15:43:02 |
Deep in the desert of Jordan we roamed,
In a rose tinted city named Petra, borne from stone.
Three hundred years before Christ it was built,
The Nabataeans mastered carving, the heat did nought but wilt.
Spice and silk passed through Petra to the East,
Trade was commanded by the Nabataeans, long deceased.
Earthquakes shook the city, and people fled
But stone [...]
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| Amman and the Dead Sea |
| 2007-05-16 17:37:32 |
Heavy water rolled gently towards my toes, over thick layers of caked salt, like rock candy, which had sunk to the seafloor. I stepped gingerly forward, avoiding the sharp edges of broken salt, and the water got quickly deeper, along a slip sliding slope. Soon, I was in disorienting suspension, legs kicking the air, laughing [...]
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| Damascus: Part II |
| 2007-05-10 14:46:41 |
It was a crisp, cool morning, and Star Crossed Lovers café – where we had drunk our last chai the night before – was already awake. Wooden tree stumps were laid out in the spreading sunlight and the café’s dwarfish owner, wild curls on his balding head, noticed us immediately.
“Good morning!” he called, bustling about [...]
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| Damascus: Part I |
| 2007-05-02 13:15:10 |
Sharia ath-Thawra was a jumble of shining yellow taxis, fearlessly zipping between moving metal. Their drivers rested weary elbows on horns, hooting, blind to all but their destination. A pedestrian flyover was visible in the distance, beyond a mammoth neon Sony sign, about a ten minute walk away. But Iain and I had slept too [...]
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| Aleppo, Syria |
| 2007-04-22 17:50:58 |
I woke as we neared the Syrian border, my left cheek clammy and wrinkled. Saliva had collected on the headrest of my reclined bus seat, and gone cold. I rubbed life back into rubbery skin, and looked outside. The land was drier than yesterday, when I had watched the sun set over central Turkey through [...]
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| Cappadocia |
| 2007-04-10 17:45:24 |
The bedroom was icy. Fresh breaths of arctic air sifted through unseen cracks, under the door, through the glass. My foot lay exposed. I snuck it back under the weight of blankets piled on top of me: three of them, thick and soft.
A steel cylinder stood in the corner of the room, stuffed with newspaper. [...]
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| Gosh, Prayers and Broken Windows |
| 2007-04-05 17:51:59 |
My mother and Willie Turnbull, the author of this article, joined me for a week in Turkey while Claire was away, attending her mother’s wedding. I forced our swift schedule on them; they forced relief from The Budget on me. Willie offered to write this article. I gleefully accepted, but insisted that the title be [...]
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| Ankara |
| 2007-03-22 15:48:41 |
A man pressed my thumb down onto the greasy black ink pad, and into the space labelled ‘thumb’ on the page beside it. Forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, baby finger, one at a time, were all smeared in the black ink and pressed firmly onto the page. The man had an American twang, but looked [...]
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| Istanbul |
| 2007-03-14 17:20:40 |
“Allaaahuu Akbaarr.” The muezzin paused, drew breath. I held out a public phone’s plastic receiver, stretching the wire, and hoped my father on the other end could hear Istanbul being called to prayer. “Allaaahuu Akbaarr. Allaaahuu Akbaarr, Ash-hadu alla ilaha illallah.” The muezzin stopped, inhaled. Traffic snarled and casual banter dominated the city again. I [...]
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| Athens |
| 2007-03-01 11:34:08 |
Monastiraki square bubbled with the bustle of Athenians and tourists alike. Fruit sellers, bananas hanging from the awnings of their wooden stands, bellowed the price of their wares in rich resonant voices. The sweetest seedless grapes were piled up in bunches. Heart shaped chocolate donuts wafted their merciless scent through the crowds. Koulouri, sesame bread [...]
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| Rome |
| 2007-02-18 11:37:06 |
A single coin thrown into the Trevi Fountain, with your right hand, over your left shoulder, is said to ensure a return to Rome. The tradition might have originated in ancient Rome, when an another, older fountainhead existed here, at the meeting of three roads (tre vie) and end of an aqueduct, which served Romans [...]
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