Ibn Battutah is known for traveling around most of the known world back in the 14th century, but perhaps the least well known part of his travels was his sojourn here in Spain. Even still, in his Gift to Those Who Contemplate the Wonders of Cities and the Marvels of Traveling, he paints one of…
Movie set art-deco buildings crumble under an equatorial sun. Here colors break rules at their fancy…yellow and purple get on well when splashed across a mud brick wall while an envious lime green neighbor looks on. Vegetation creeps at these high altitudes, the advancing green takes its time, nothing’s in a rush over 2500 meters.…
This winter has been rotten, plain rotten. Rain can be a godsend in countries susceptible to drought like Spain, but enough already! Though Spring certainly doesn’t seem to be springing with any kind of force, let’s hope that the storks bring some good weather with them.
Over the Christmas break we went off again, searching for more of Ibn Battutah’s tracks…this time from Morocco to Spain. The trip ended, like Battutah’s in that lovely city at the feet of the Sierra Nevada, Granada. Of the few cities that live up to their hype and more. Even without the Alhambra sitting on…
I’ve chased Ibn Battutah’s ghost through Yemen, Syria, Turkey, Libya, Spain and even Cambodia. Each country has provided fleeting glimpses of the medieval wanderer, from his lions in Aleppo to castles in Fuengirola. Have a read about a recent pilgrimage to this traveler’s tomb in Tangier in the Sydney Morning Herald.
I do have to say that the Irish are some of my favourite people in the world. Whether it be in New Jersey, Baku, Vientiane or even Cork, they always seem to cheer things up. It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the greenest of places, but an Irish newspaper, The Irish World, has just…
Years ago while living in the south-western corner of the Arabian peninsula, now unnameable, the sun shone almost everyday…almost. At times the clear blue sky would darken with sand blowing in from the vast deserts that ring the mountains and then for about 2 weeks a year irregular monsoons would blow through and flood the…
Every traveler has been there…jet-lagged and coming out of an airport or getting off an all-night train where the only wink you got was from the fellow across the aisle with the extremely dirty fingernails, stepping into a new country with no language or local currency and suddenly the mass descends on you. If not…
Cold seems to be relative. The way you experience it depends on…well depends on more than your jacket. A relative you know is coming to stay, but can’t seem to say no to. I bloody hate the cold. Could be an entire childhood faced with frozen hair on dark mornings that lasted forever and then…
The good people over at Trazzler have given me even more reason to practice what I preach and travel deeper rather than further. I’ve been assigned a 10 piece series, exploring my adopted homeland of Extremadura, Spain and her sister region across the now non-existent border with Portugal. First stop Alcantara! Second Caceres Moving on…