The trail across Española Island to the cliffs of Puerto Egas requires a little effort. In places it is almost like walking on stepping stones, moving from one lava boulder to the next along the route. But the reward at the end of the path is enormous – and I use that word advisedly.
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Because the moai of Rapa Nui represent real people, each has a different expression, something that becomes obvious the more you study them. But they were all ‘born’ of the same place, carved from the rock of the volcano, Rano Raraku. Its compressed volcanic ash, tuft, is soft and easy to carve – essential, as the natives had no metal to carve with, only stone tools.
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The Hoh rainforest is an ancient, almost enchanted place, green and mysterious. Some of its trees have stood here for over a thousand years, long before European explorers came to this continent. Draped with mosses and ferns they seem to stand outside time; a haven of stillness in an ever-shifting world.
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If you call a place ‘Paradise’ it had better be somewhere special! Luckily this area of Mount Rainier National Park really does live up to the name bestowed on it by Virinda Longmire in 1885. When she first saw this spot, carpeted with wildflowers, she is said to have exclaimed, ‘Oh, what a paradise!’
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It's impossible to imagine New York City without its skyscrapers, and it's equally impossible to imagine visiting the city without going up at least one of those skyscrapers to see the view from the top. The obvious choice might seem to be the Empire State Building but … maybe you should think again.
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On the vast plains of New Mexico, with their huge skies, and more cattle than people, it is not difficult to imagine a cowboy galloping over the nearest ridge. And wherever you go in this state, the ghosts of outlaws past will follow you, most notably Billy the Kid.
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‘We could hardly conceive how these islanders, wholly unacquainted with any mechanical power, could raise such stupendous figures’
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Until I visited, all my images of New Jersey came from song lyrics - Paul Simon's traffic-clogged turnpike and Bruce Springsteen's urban working class childhood.
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The early morning clouds hung so low over the forest that we couldn’t see the tops of the trees. And we certainly couldn’t see any howler monkeys! Just like us it seemed, they like a lie-in on a miserable morning.
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‘Valparaíso, how absurd you are…you haven't combed your hair, you've never had time to get dressed, life has always surprised you.’
