Sooner or later it seems, all paths in Marrakesh lead to the Jemaa el-Fnaa. The name (sometimes spelled Djemaa el Fna or Jamaa el Fna) means ‘Assembly of the Dead’ in Arabic; but a visit here suggests life in all its vibrancy. To call this the city’s main square doesn’t begin to do justice to it. This is a meeting place, a shopping centre, a performance space, a happening. It is surrounded by restaurants and cafés, each with a roof terrace to offer a ringside seat from where to observe all the action, but better by far to get immersed…
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Early morning by Lake Atitlàn. A lone fisherman drifts past, checking his lines. Volcanoes dot the horizon. In the distance a small motorboat speeds past; empty now but likely to be full of passengers when the lake’s ferry services start up soon. The jetties too are quiet, waiting for the lakeside villages to wake up.
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Plovdiv’s Kapana district is an object lesson in how to transform run-down into lively, neglected into loved. In this part of the city , a maze of small streets follows much the same pattern as the Ottoman souk which once stood here, although the mainly wooden buildings of that era are long since gone. The very name, Kapana, recalls that maze, as it means ‘Trap’; once among these streets it was hard to find your way out!
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Imagine an Olympic Games Opening Ceremony; full of spectacle and colour, involving tens of thousands of performers. Add a good dollop of political propaganda and unashamed messaging. Throw in hundreds of well-drilled cute children, all eager to please. Imagine too that this ceremony takes place every single night for several months. Now you have just a small idea of the scale of the North Korean phenomenon known colloquially as the Mass Games.
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In a previous post I took you on a walk along the River Tyne in Newcastle and introduced you to its famous bridges. But I neglected to mention all the public art to be found along the Quayside. So now I want to rectify that omission.
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The indigenous name for Victoria Falls is Mosi-oa-Tunya or The Smoke that Thunders, and it is a fitting name. The constant spray is as thick as smoke, and the roar of the water is indeed like thunder.
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Although we love to travel, we have always spent Christmas at home in England. Not for us the snowy ski slopes of the Alps, or the tropical shores of the Caribbean or Far East. Tempting as the latter sound, we save trips to warmer climes for February, when the long chilly season is really dragging. Christmas is a time for the comforts of home, and for family.
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In the Plaza de la Encarnación of Seville a strange structure reaches skywards. This is the Metropol Parasol, often referred to by locals as the Mushrooms, Las Setas de la Encarnación. The dramatic forms arch overhead, framing views of the surrounding streets and buildings.
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Just to the west of Seville’s city centre, across the Guadalquivir river, lies Triana. This former working class neighbourhood was once home to the Escuela de Mareantes (School of Navigation) which instructed many of the famous sailors of the 15th and 16th centuries. Both Columbus and Magellan studied there before their expeditions in search of new worlds. It is famous too for its tradition of ceramic tile work and its unique style of flamenco.
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We visited many strange and wonderful places on our tour of North Korea. But this is a short story about a place we didn’t visit. The Hungnam fertiliser factory was first established in Hungnam by the Japanese in 1927 and reopened by the Koreans after having been destroyed in the Korean War.
