“If you look up, at just the right time, you'll see a peacock on the ceiling,” our guide, Javad, explained as he walked us under the gilded and tiled dome of Sheikh Lotf Allah Mosque in Isfahan, Iran.
We craned our necks, searching for just the right angle. With the aid of sunlight passing through a nearby window, an image of a peacock — previously unseen, now tail shimmering — was revealed to us brush strokes. Intermittent cries of “Oh!” indicated when everyone in the room “got it.”
Traveling to Edinburgh and wondering: “What is the essence of Edinburgh?” We probably need to write a book to answer that in earnest. But if you visit Edinburgh for 3 days or 72 hours (and ideally more), this Edinburgh travel guide shares what you could see, eat, drink and otherwise experience to help you answer that question for yourself.
This is a story about faraway places and our relationship to the somewheres we dream of visiting. It's also about the fact that we fly to New Zealand next Monday.
Some places on our planet seem to lend themselves to the imagination, that is to the image of the mind, to putting eyes closed and attempting to place yourself somewhere you’ve never been. Think about it: there are endless beautiful places on Earth that evince all manner of beauty, but among them, there are a few special places whose reputation so precedes them.
One of those places: New Zealand.
If dreams really do come true, you could say that the Scottish Highland castle of Eilean Donan is proof.
Aye, the story — it goes something like this.
Never let the facts get in the way of a good story.
— Mark Twain said it. Scottish storytellers live it.
This is a story…about story. Or rather, the importance of stories to the Scottish Highlands.
“There was an unwritten rule in the Scottish Highlands,” Chris, our driver and guide, explained. “If someone came to your house seeking shelter and food, you must welcome them.”
Celebrations in the shadow of the Winter Solstice. They help us abide darkness and emerge from the shortest day of the year so that we may carry ourselves through deepening cold and, oddly enough, lengthening days until spring returns a few months later.
In this context, the measure of a place coming forth from this seasonal inflection might in fact be its celebration of the new year, and not only the energy with which it tackles this task, but also the tools it packs to do so. Edinburgh, and its new year's celebration, Hogmanay? No different.
Have you ever returned to a country and felt you were visiting for the first time, the experiences and locations so utterly different than before?
That was our recent visit to Nicaragua.
Amsterdam. Romantic canals, medieval trading houses, coffee shops leaking smoke and offering contact highs. A red-light district with voluptuous — or maybe voluminous — women seated in oddly-lit windows, looking bored and listless and occasionally interested. Bicycles. Tulips. Van Gogh. Art museums.
But street art?
Up until our recent travels into the heart of port wine country, and despite countless glasses of the stuff under my belt, I was still tempted to consider port as a heavy drink that was quaffed by older British men with a cigar after a pot roast dinner.
Then we traveled deep into the Douro Valley in northern Portugal, the epicenter of port wine. And there, things opened up to me.
Have you ever come away from a long weekend visiting a city, your map torn in half and frayed along the way? That's good old-fashioned map wear and tear, a sign that you've gotten lost many times. Sometimes you get to your original destination, sometimes you don't. Maybe you've found something else along the way, some unexpected discoveries.
That's what makes the weekend, your weekend, interesting.
And so it was with our recent long weekend in Paris for my birthday at the end of August.