None of us are able, at the moment, to gather new travel memories. Perhaps for that reason, the recollections of travels past become all the more precious. And what better way to trigger these memories than browsing through your mementos – old photographs, scrapbooks perhaps, and for those of us who buy them, objects and souvenirs.
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Why celebrate one festival when you can celebrate three? We hadn’t planned our visit to Cuenca to coincide with this particular weekend, when the city parties, but we were lucky to be here at this special time and to be able to join locals and other visitors in some of the fun.
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There's nothing like a carnival parade to stir up the emotions. There’s the anticipation among the spectators as they wait for the parade to arrive – can we see it in the distance yet? The excitement when finally it arrives, with all the colour and spectacle. The joy on the faces of the participants in the parade as they see the reactions. And the slight feeling of let-down when it has passed, seemingly so quickly after the long wait.
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After the deforestation of Rapa Nui, and the destruction of the moai, probably as a result in part at least of war between the tribes, the people needed to believe in something; if their ancestors could no longer protect them, who would? The answer was, one of their own.
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It happened that the Mogollon inhabitants of Chaco Canyon were forced to leave their home by a prolonged drought. Their ancestors had been told by the spirits ‘at the time of emergence’ that a place had been prepared in which they would live. So the tribe left their lands in Chaco and wandered through the American Southwest, pausing from time to time to call out ‘Haak’u’, which means ‘a place prepared’.
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Few would argue with the idea that the main contribution that Jamaica has made to international culture is its reggae music, and the man who did most to bring that to the world’s attention was Bob Marley. So it’s perhaps not surprising that he has achieved almost cult status on the island.
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The small boys who meet the boats arriving in Santiago on the shores of Lake Atitlàn know that the visiting tourists are here to see one thing above all others. They want to meet Maximón. It’s a good idea to accept the children’s offer as this intriguing Mayan idol (part saint, part devil) doesn’t have a permanent home in the town. Instead he is hosted by a local family, moving to a new house every few years.
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Only in North Korea, I thought, could you have a day of sightseeing like this! It was the country’s National Day, marking the 71st anniversary of the founding of the DPRK, and our itinerary for the day had been carefully planned to allow us to see how Pyongyangites celebrated the occasion.
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Gubbio took a little while to weave its spell on me. When I first started to explore it seemed simply an old and attractive Italian town perched invitingly on a hillside, like so many others. Then I attended the Palio, the festival of the crossbow fighters, a centuries-old tradition.
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For three days we had wandered the streets of the ancient walled city of Lucca. It was all very laid-back and very Italian. Then on the last day of our stay, everything changed...
