There is a "pub" in Galway, city of the west coast of Southern Ireland, on whose door a poster announcing: "Last place where a beer before Boston (U.S.)”. Of course I took a pint to celebrate the ingenuity of the owner. And of course, also knowing that the statement was not true.
As, occasionally, question any reader of this "web" on the issue, say that, for next April, I have a new book in bookstores traveler, to which I called "In wild seas (a trip to the Arctic)”.
Back to Africa. Maybe back to Africa unless all imaginable Africas. In my Africa, on your skin, There are bars in which fuses look, linen napkin restaurants and painted lines on roads. All that awaits me back in Cape Town: European complexion, however, observed a black soul.
A little over a year since last time I traveled to Black Africa. And for a few days, I sailed on an old ferry, the "Liemba", on the eastern shores of Lake Tanganyika, one of the largest in Africa; lake area full of stories and legends ...
The Mississippi is a river that goes a long way. Uninformed people say that America has no history, as if history were an issue related to old age and time. Instead, I see history in relation to the intensity of life.
Last week I wrote about battlefields and, a little side, reffering me to the field of Gettysburg, wandering through which I walked a cold morning in March this year. The fierce fighting on 1 the 3 July 1863 on the outskirts of this small town in Pennsylvania ...
Graham Greene wrote that "over time, even the battlefields seem poetic places ". I've seen a few in the course of my travels, for historical inquiries inevitably push me towards them.