As I tentatively climb the stairs to the women’s entrance I worry about what I am getting myself into. A public bath? All by myself? I don’t speak Turkish and I really know nothing about the culture. I’m nervous.
A bell tinkles as I open the door and enter into the quiet, inner alcove but no-one comes to greet me.
“Merhaba”, I call out towards the sounds of television coming from the next room.
A stout, older woman comes bustling out of the back room.… continued…
The Khongoryn Els, Gobi desert, are some of the largest and most spectacular sand dunes in Mongolia. Rising as high as 200 meters, the dunes are 7-8 kilometers wide and about 100 kilometers long.
Climbing the dunes is breathtaking, not only for the view at the top, but for the song the sands sing while you climb. Known as “Singing Sands,” the eerie music is evident when the wind blows, or when you walk or slide on the sand.… continued…
She was shaking. I thought she was cold.
It was less than half an hour before sunset. I’d already snapped a picture or two of the group of girls mooching about the old Roman theatre at Sebastia. The incomparably knowledgeable and insightful George Rishmawi had been guiding non-stop since breakfast time atthe other end of Palestine. I didn’t want to drop the pace. I was desperate to put my eyes in the way of Sebastia before the light went altogether.… continued…
There’s the usual scrum for the Exeter train at Waterloo. It’s always announced very late, and you can spot the people waiting for it. They stare hungrily at the departure board, poised to leap into action every time the board is updated. The collective adrenaline is enough to kick start a whole carful of elephants into action. There’s a tangible slump every time the board changes and they realise that the platform still hasn’t been announced.… continued…
Sunny, our affable hiking guide, told the Brazilian Princess (BP) and me we had two options: spend the first trek night in a local villager’s home, or sleep over in a Buddhist monastery.
Immediately visions popped into my head of spunky young novice monks waking us with gentle Burmese chanting in a bright, sunlit building domed with flowers and bells gently ringing in the breezy courtyard under frangipani trees. Elders would meditate with us, peacefully emancipating our attached western minds and inviting us into an enlightened state of nirvana – all before breakfast!… continued…
