Feature

Troutbeck, Cumbria, United Kingdom “Good morning!” No reply. The man in black was looking serious as he strode down the path towards me. Maybe he had missed my greeting. “Good morning!” I repeated, this time a little louder. Anyway, the wind was picking up and it was possible the stranger had not heard. He was walking fast, alone, black rucksack in position, head down as if studying the grass-cum-stone surface of the lane. He was like a scientist on the verge of some earth-shattering discovery. Yet he was past within moments, looking[...]

Tripoli, Lebanon “The old train station? I’m a tourist. I know nothing about railways.” The man listened to my protest with bemusement. His English was good, his grey beard perfectly cropped, his bearing full of confidence. Rumour had it that apart from owning the Via Mina Hotel, in whose reception I was standing, he was also expert at yoga. “Go on,” he encouraged. “There you will see all of Tripoli.” With a friendly, backhanded sweep he directed me to the hotel’s front doors. “Tell me what you think when you return,” he[...]

Jerusalem, Israel I never met Jesus, but rather wish I had, as not only did a religion develop around him but an industry as well. There is no better place to see this than in Jerusalem and no better place in Jerusalem than the Garden Tomb. It was down a peaceful alley, outside the city walls, and a place I was encouraged to visit by friends. It was where they said Jesus had been entombed. I arrived at the tomb the moment the front gates opened in the morning; it was odd[...]

Chania, Crete, Greece I have a plan, a brilliant one for retirement. As I wander the streets of Chania, Crete’s second largest city, it is clear what I must do. I will join the Greek elderly, sit at a harbourside café table, which will be round, metal and maroon, and stir my coffee clockwise - it has to be clockwise for some reason - while discussing the problems of our era with likeminded retirees. I will grow a grey beard, develop a paunch, and stare into the distance with authority. For that[...]

Wisley Gardens, United Kingdom “Dinosaurs!” the two young girls exclaimed, in almost unison. “Where? Come on Daddy, let’s go and see.” With a young daughter dragging on each arm, their father smiled, reluctantly pretended to be pulled towards the river’s edge, and muttered as he passed, “Thanks, mate. I suppose it’s up to me to explain?” I smiled, then nodded in reply, as the episode was entirely my doing. I was in Surrey’s Wisley Gardens, the flagship of Britain’s Royal Horticultural Society, and was spending a day wandering its 97 hectares of[...]

Brussels, Belgium I was not expecting a taxi driver with a significant belly obsession. At least a Walloon cabbie who claimed to have had, some years earlier, a massive stomach that would not fit behind his wheel. The Belgian turned towards me, dangerously, eyes off the road as he spoke, me in the rear seat, him in front, and patted his now six-pack abdomen with pride. “I lost 85 kilos,” he declared smugly, chest puffed out. We were speaking in French, schoolboy for me, fluent for him. I knew what I was[...]