Poor me, but then I thought, wait...I've swum in some lovely places.
Let's narrow them down to 3 in no particular order.
Ginnie Springs, High Springs, Northern Florida
If northern Florida wasn't interesting enough in its own time travel way, these springs are perfect. It's a surreal place to swim among the Spanish moss while the alligators patrol out in the warmer river that the springs flow into (the big toothy grins don't like the cooler water).
Bir Ali, Yemen
Yemen never makes it onto the glossy Caribbean style travel brochures, but the emerald green of the Arabian Sea is a mighty match for hurricane alley. Just outside the town of Bir Ali you can camp on a deserted white sandy beach that seems to extend all the way down to Aden. Behind you the sands of the beach meet and mingle with those of the desert on the vol…
Writing in the local paper. Local Issues with a global take. I never translate literally and the editor trims at will to make it fit. Here's my version, then theirs.
One of the first
things that drew me to Spain back in the nineties was a feeling that people
generally minded their own business. Sure, they might comment, criticize or
even ridicule those who wore socks with sandals, ate in the street or simply did
things differently, but at least they let them do it. While the hyper-entrenched norms
of society exerted an enormous pressure on people to fit in, non-conformists
were mostly looked down upon, but not necessarily punished. If someone wanted to
transform a lovely nineteenth century house in their village into a three story
apartment monstrosity, well, if the law somehow let them do it, it was their
choice to do so. The homogeneity of streets and entire Spanish villages have suffered enormously
due to this, but if that’s the look the owner wants, well? Taste is after all a …
Last night's Minaret exhibit was not only a chance to share some photos that I've taken on my travels but an opportunity to retrieve and relive some dusty memories that had been lying forgotten in my 1.0 memory chip mind.
During the evening, a few astute visitors were quick to notice an early Soviet-era statue that features prominently in one of the photographs, thus refreshing my memory in regards to one of my favourite emblems in Baku, Azerbaijan.
While living in the city, my wife and I lived just off Nizami square/Metro stop in the infamous 'Beysh Barmak'. Baku's first 5-story building (thus the name) that was stodgily yet sturdily built during the years of Russian rule. The window panes hadn't been changed since the 5 year plans, allowing the winter wind free access to the flat, but it was a handy address that every taxi driver knew...especially given the fact that I speak no Azeri or Russian, no matter how much vodka I drank.