<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714531848041975780</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:00:55.387-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A–Z Travel Snapshots [E]</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1714531848041975780/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bristol Book Publishing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00592739586451396613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1714531848041975780.post-6686206987019816193</id><published>2009-12-21T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T10:00:50.189-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EAST TIMOR to EVIA</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EAST TIMOR&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; I imagined a green land of dense forest where guerrillas hid, but a woman who has just come back from filming the “cetacean soup” of whales and dolphins that gathers in a global hotspot beside the island tells me it is dry and dusty and has never recovered from the vicious occupation&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EBOLI&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Christ stopped here. We kept driving. It looked like a sorry southern Italian industrial town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EBRO ELTA&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; "&gt;The rice fields, thatched huts, marsh ferries and birdlife (my first encounter with a pratincole) are like a long sigh of acceptance that nobody ever hears.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EDINBURGH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; At the Festival one year, at the start of a performance of &lt;i&gt;Nelken&lt;/i&gt; (Carnations) by Pina Bausch, a dancer leaves the stage, beckons me from my front-row seat and leads me down the length of the Playhouse aisle. Her name is Paula, she says as we pass out through the exit door. And she asks me mine. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EL DORADO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Walter Raleigh, on his round the world voyage and quest to find the golden paradise, wrote so evocatively of his ride along the Orinoco, the first European in what is now Venezuela, that is seems a contemporary account.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;ELEPHANT ISLAND&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/b&gt;Heiroglyphics lapped by the Nile, Nubian villages, feluccah boatyards on the shore… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;ELLIS ISLAND&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; To visit here, to see the Immigration Hall and the luggage and memorabilia of the dispossessed Europeans, is to start to understand America.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EPHESUS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; No other Greek site gives such a good idea about day-to-day life in Classical times, from lewd graffiti to a magnificent library. And imagine it when the Temple of Artemis flanked its port. It must have been dazzling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EPIDAVROS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; From nowhere in the cooling day, people arrived across the fields through the olive groves to take their places on the stone seats to watch the masked performers, just as they did nearly 2,500 years ago. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;ESTEPONA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; From here you can see Gibraltar's rock, and Ceuta. A sudden realisation that Europe and Africa are no more than a sea kiss away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;ETNA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; We reached its feet at Taormina but mist kept it hidden. It didn't care that we had come a long way to see it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF6600;"&gt;EVIA&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; It's not so much the current I remember - changing direction in the channel 12 times a day and famously flummoxing Aristotle. It's the great rusting tankers on the bays of the mainland nearby. Greek ship owners all washed up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1714531848041975780-6686206987019816193?l=travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com/feeds/6686206987019816193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com/2009/12/east-timor-to-evia.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1714531848041975780/posts/default/6686206987019816193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1714531848041975780/posts/default/6686206987019816193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://travelsnapshotse.blogspot.com/2009/12/east-timor-to-evia.html' title='EAST TIMOR to EVIA'/><author><name>Bristol Book Publishing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00592739586451396613</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
