This morning I woke up to the sound of bells. I looked out my window and there was a small hamlet, complete with church. Being a week day, I took the sound as a summons to breakfast.
Where I stay when travelling adds – or take away – so much to a trip. I love being able to walk out the door into a place of local colour. The view from window or balcony is yet another dimension. Just being able to open the window to hear and smell, and so often taste, this new world unfolding around me – or better still, being able to walk onto however a small balcony to drink it all in. Continue Reading →
Nothing quite prepared me for these giant trees. I’ve seen so many images of them (and yes, we’ve all seen the movie) but to actually wander through the temples and see trees sprouting from stones is an eerie site. These temples were once thriving with people; then they were forgotten, and consumed by the jungle.
Some, like Angkor Wat, have been restored; some partially restored, others have been left largely the way they were discovered. Forgotten by the world, some temples became hideouts for the Khmer Rouge, while others are still being cleared of mines. But I couldn’t help but wonder – how many more of these temples lie hidden in the jungles of Cambodia?
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This photo encapsulates Hong Kong for me. Walking through LKF I spied a moomintroll – of course. Tove Jannson and her moomins are a world away from Hong Kong. Yet they are here, because everything is here.
That’s what I love about Hong Kong – from the fake antiques along Cat Street, a forgotten nunnery in Kowloon, the gathering of maids on their day off as they gather in parks and along walk ways, chattering away like sparrows, the tranquility of her bush walks – I always find something completely unexpected.
Always a reason to return.
Bruges, Brugges, Brugge – there are as many variations on the name as there are languages spoken in this medieval town.
I visited in late autumn, and found a magical town. Bruges is a delight for wandering, for eating, for museums (an exhibition of the Flemish Primitives was showing) – and for chocolate. I was lucky enough to see the famous Dog of Bruges before he died. The old town is criss-crossed with canals, and cars are few.
A delightful place to explore the past. This photo brings back the smell of damp leaves after a crisp autumn day.
Memories of Saigon where I was treated to a spectacular sight: hundreds of balloons released into the sky. They gently drifted away on the breeze, as a procession of a few score priests, (including one in full Orthodox regalia) crossed the road and walked into the cathedral.
I never found out the occasion, yet it was something I had not expected to see in a Communist country. Yet this is part of the reason I will always call her Saigon, in memory of he past, although Ho Chi Minh races to the future.