TORTOLA

When I went from Virgin Gorda to Tortola the huge cruise liner Queen Mary 2 was anchored in front of Spanish Town and the small passenger ferry I was on passed very near to the sea giant.
Tortola is the biggest of the British Virgin Islands and its main center and harbour, Road Town, is the region's capital. Almost every day, at least in season, ferries are stopped there, while the passangers go on island tours and shop, which ensures lots of people in the streets aroung the bay. I went a little bit out of the center and was rewarded with a visit of the old residence and gardens of the British Governor-General, now a museum open to the public. It is a charming mansion, built on a small hill allowing fine sea views, and it is maintained like in its noble past days. Just see the dining-room, where Queen Elisabeth had meals while on visit to the island many years ago.

ATLANTA

In a few days I will have a stopover in Atlanta, on my way to Panama. It has already happened to me, with the difference that in 2007 it was a night stopover both ways, which allowed me to see downtown Atlanta twice. I was not really impressed by the city. If I compare with all other Olympic Games cities I know, it is by far the one I felt less enthusiasm with.
The airport is very big and, I suspect, was the first world-wide to have an internal underground train system to link the various terminals.
A little bit out of the centre is the atraction which caught my eye and my mind: the houses and monuments linked with Martin Luther King, in Auburn Street, which was, long before the Civil Rights Movements developed, a district for the wealthier segment of the black community. MLK was born, leaved and preached there. It is now classified as a National Historic Site and includes the family's home, the Ebenezer Baptist Church, a visitor center and gardens, a Community Center, the King Center with an exihbition and, more rewarding for my feelings, the MLK' Tomb in a beutiful open public space.
If passing through Atlanta this is the feature you ought not to miss!

LUANDA

I have just read that Luanda, Angola's capital, will have a new iconic construction, a huge 325 meters high building with 70 floors. That's fully in accordance with the recent fact (2007) that Angola joined the OPEP, the Organisation of the Petroleum Exporting Countries. Money becomes an easy matter when the pumps discharge so much amounts of dollars! Of course someone may challenge the way the barrels money is distributed and invested, but definitively this is not at all an ethic problem for most of the leaders of the continent, just a problem for those outsiders to the elites of rich developing countries.
Before Angola was an independent country I lived in Luanda and from 1967 to 1971 worked in the then tallest building in Angola, which was also Portugal's tallest one, as Angola was politicaly  portuguese. It has 23 floors and is 90 meters high. I have been Inspector and then Chief-Inspector of Banco Comercial de Angola, an affiliated bank of Banco Português do Atlântico and my office was on the 3rd floor, till I moved to Mozambique. After  indipendence the bank was taken over by the MPLA Government and changed its name twice; it is today the BPC, Banco de Poupança e Crédito. On top of the building there was a big electric panel with the letters BCA; now the letters are naturaly BPC. The upper floor has a fantastic view of downtown and the bay, best in the night, for my taste. Was the construction of the then imposing private-owned BCA building an ethic problem at the time? Well, not by Luanda's 2009 standards.

MONTSERRAT, CATALONIA

Montserrat (jagged mountain in english) is unusually shaped, which makes it so attractive; I suppose this is the reason why a monastery was founded here on the XI century and, although Napoleon's troops totally destroyed it and killed the mooks, a Benedictine successor is there and very much alive. The Dark Virgin, a XII century wooden sculpture, is venerated there and is host to lots of pilgrims.
The mountain is some 50 kilometers from the great city of Barcelona and constitutes one of Catalonia's big attractions. Aditionally it gave its name to the homonym island in the Caribbean - but visually I do not see any coherence on this. I tend to say that, when in Barcelona, a day-visit here is an absolute must. The monastery is very big, very well maintained and includes, in addition to the Sanctuary of La Moreneta (the Dark Lady), a museum, a library and a boys' choir performing almost every day. Beyond the religious complex, the mountain itself deserves to be walked and climbed; it is  now a Natural Park and is well structured for allowing the visitors great views. Enjoy your visit!

MONTSERRAT, CARIBBEAN

Sometimes we talk about devastation, as sometimes it happens. In Montserrat it came in a tremendous way, very rarely in modern times anything of the kind happenned that touched such an incledible pourcentage of the population. This is because it is such a tiny island with around twelve thousand inhabitants before the big eruption, may be only fife thousand by now.
In 1997 a massive explosion of the Soufrière Hills volcano distroyed more than half the island, including the capital and forced the dislocation of most of the locals; such a part of the island is still an "exclusion zone", due to the risks of renewed sismologic activity.
I went there on a day trip from Antigua, which this is fairly enough to see what is available. Everything to be seen is related to the tragic events of 22 years ago.
First you are taken to a valley which defines the line of separation, where you can walk on ashes, lava and boulders and see nice abandoned villas. Then you go to the Volcano Observatory, located on a high position but out of the possible lines of destruction when the volcano stikes. From the mirador you have the volcano mountain in front and you see Plymouth,the (ex)capital, near to the sea and with just a few towers and houses above the ashes and debris: most of it lies now under the surface. Later at another mirador you can see, on the east side, the old airport - or inded what remains of it.

SPISSKY HRAD

It is said that Spissky is the biggest surviving (although ruined) castle of Central and Eastern Europe. So, I ought to visit it. Especially that the first time I passed on the area, going from Levoca to Presov, I passed not far - but at the time I was not yet a fan of WH. The second time, touring the North of Hungary by car, I decided I should not miss Spassky Hrad and took a detour to Slavakia; the two countries were freshly EU members, but not yet "Schengenland" ones, so the border checks were in place, but on a relaxed mood.
At a curve of the road Spissiky Hrad appeared in the distance, bravely on top of a big hill. I stopped at Spissky Kapitula, the nearby small town, just down the hill; here you have fine views of the Hrad from an underneath position. Then I proceeded to the castle. Being in such a proeminent position, I could devise (it was a fine Summer day) the Tatra mountains in the distance. I took my time to stroll around the castle and also to walk outside its precinct on the grassed slopes around it.
Later I drove back to Hungary, via Kosice, and stopped for dinner and sleep at Tokaj, the town of the country's famed sweet wine. The next morning I walked on town and climbed up the vineyards on the hills follwing a copious hungarian-style breakfast - on a happy mood, having added two more WH sites to my personal "collection". Sadly on that evening Portugal was to loose the final of the football Euro 2004 championship. Life is never as perfect as one hopes!

VIRGIN GORDA

I took the small passanger ferry in Charlotte Amalie,United States Virgin Islands, in a gorgeous tropical morning and landed quietly in Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda, British Virgin Islands, an hour later or so. The name of the island is not that gracious, if you understand latin languages and Columbus is supposedly the man to blame, because from the distance it looked to him as a lying fat lady.
As it was the low season I did not care to reserve a hotel room, which on arrival the immigration control office disliked and ordered me to go for a room and return to get back my passaport after the booking, which I did with no problem, as I had already an idea where to stay. Later in the day the hotel esplanade and bar, just in front of the beach, gave me the opportunity of a very beautiful sunset, with some other BVI islands and islets in the distance. Before that the afternoon had been rather stiily, there is no argument for any stress in these islands of absolute non challence and tropical quietness. I had just a short walk to the the Baths, more or less the only island's tourist spot, apart from the resorts. One can have a bath in the warmness of the sea waters under the protection of huge granite boulders, sometimes creating grottoes open to the sea.

BAARLE-NASSAU

Know nothing about it? Do not even know where it is? No problem, it is not that important, it is more about the fun! It is about enclaves and exclaves: the concepts are not so complex in themselfes - but its praticalities always seem funny and odd. Notice for instance another case: Ras al-Kaimah Emirate has a round enclave inside an Oman territory, which is itself a round enclave of Ras al-Kaimah.
I kown about Baarle-Nassau since the winter of 1982, when I took a trip from my Luxembourg base to the Netherlands. After visiting the mushroom-like building of the science and technology Evoluon museum in Eindhoven, raised to celebrate the 75th aniversary of Phillips, a careful looking on a small entry of my travel guide led me to Baarle-Nassau.
Rights, claims and arrangements,in short History as it happens, are responsible for the strange situation. When Belgium separated from the Netherlands in 1830 the odd forms of "borders" simply followed the status quo dating back to XII century feudal times, when the Duke of Brabant and the Count of Holland were having conflicts about their respective possessions. We can now take advantage of such conflicts by seeing houses which are half in each country, passing to Belgium though an enclave to go to a sub-enclave of the Netherlands, having a drink - if my memory is still reliable! -in an "international" coffee shop which has a table with half of it in each country and other subtilities of the kind. Enjoy your drink and pay it now in euros, while earlier you could be tough with the owner about how to pay: dutch guilders or belgian francs.

SINTRA

Of all 890 WH sites, the nearest to my Estoril home is Sintra (and the nearest to my Brussels apartment is the Grand-Place). I shall not self-complain!
In fact Sintra's nomination does not pertain to any specific building or monument and is officialy labelled "Cultural Landscape of...". Anyhow some architectonical and vegetal structures are remarkable and must be considered: The Royal Palace in town, the Moors Castle, the Romantic Pena Palace, the Seteais and Monserrate Palaces, the masonic Quinta da Regaleira, the Capuchos Frairy, plus several ancient churches, parks, forests and the narrow crooked streets in the urban centre. Are the well known and well eaten "queijadas" (cheese cakes) also part of Sintra's cultural landscape? And what about Lord Byron verses in "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage" where he writes "Sintra's glorious Eden intervenes in variegated maze of mount and glen."? The word is for the heritage specialists - but for me both are also part of it: I have made up my mind since when I begun visiting Sintra, well before it was appointed a WH site.
In the picture: Quinta da Regaleira in a winter foggy day.

ADEN

I have never visited Aden, or better said have only been once in its airport. It was in 1976 on an Aeroflot flight between Maputo and Moscow, with outbound stops in Aden and Cairo and inbound in Mogadishiu. All the family was in the plane, wife and three children.
I still remember perfectly well two things about this stopover.
First: as soon as the Tupolev touched down and braked, I begun seeing from my window seat some MIG15 jet fighters semi-hidden in between airfield buildings, a sequence of hangar-aircraft-hangar-aircraft-etc.. At the time Aden, as an independent country under a marxist regime, was a stategic ally of the Soviet Union, with strong air and sea facilities for the soviets. Years after and some conflicts, revolts and peace arrangements later, Aden (or South Yemen) agreed a reunification with North Yemen, to form what is today Yemen.
Second: the free shop was open (not sure how marxist-leninist the concept is!) and I got a bottle of VAT69 whisky for thee american dollars. Very cheap even by then prices and my first experience of spending dollars at the profit of communism.

TROMSO

The city has not much to offer indeed, but this is not an argument for a tourist who feels itself to be of a strong reputation. It has the Artic Cathedral, a modernist church from 1965 and a bridge linking downtown (in an island, which also contains the airport) with the mainland; both are visible on the back of the picture. Plus the Hurtigruten, the famous ferry line: a big one was on the port when I passed by.
With the exception of the Svalbard Islands, about which I will make entries later, Tromso is the northernnost city I have visited, more than Kiruna in Sweden and Rovaniemi in Finland. And of course at 69.4 degrees it is upper the Artic Circle. When I was there it was the midnight sun period, but frankly I can not confirm it: having already seen it in Narvik, I went to bed by 11pm and it was not dark.
Tromso has also an University, "the northernmost University of the world" and a beautiful well structured Artic-alpine Botanical Garden, where I strolled for more than an hour.

TSAVO PARKS

Suddenly the buffalo attacked and the driver speeded up the jeep without warning. The man on the left fell on his wife, the wife fell on me and hopefully I did not fell on the driver. Not because of these falls, I supppose, the bufallo decided to stop the atack and we all laughed.
I do not know whether this is a dayly scene in Tsavo East Park, but it happened! The rest of the day passed with less emotion but more beasts. Lunch was in the hotel inside the park, with a view to a herd of elephants. Later we left the park at the Voi gate, passed the town and drove to Tsavo West Park. The two parks have a long common border, the highway and the railway separating both, but not at Voi. The night was passed at Salt Lick Safari Lodge, a surprising hotel with the rooms built in hut-like houses above wet grassland, the dining room with direct view (not even glass windows) to elephants drinking on a pool and the reception door shut by night to avoid animals entering. From my room I saw elephants passing by!
The following morning we were graced with a tour to see buffalos, girafes, deers, zebras, cobras,monkeys, pheasants and so, including a somnolent lion lying around bushes. As a standard extra for everyone on gorgeous sunny days we saw perfectly Mount Kilimanjaro in the distance, at the best of its superb.

BAALBEK AND ANJAR

From Beirut it is up and up and up the mountains. No harm anyway, the enthusiasm to see Baalbek is too great. You look left and it is a nice valley, green and populated. You look behind and it is the magnificent coastal plain of Great Beirut. Then you reach Mt. Lebanon' hights and it is down and down and down. The Bekaa Valley, extense and fertile-looking, is in front of you, the syrian mountains also, more in the distance. As you reach the valley continue eastwards till Anjar. It is a huge ruined city, said to be "a unique testimony to city planning under the Umayyads". Take your time and stroll around, think about how all great human achievements do perish. When your soul is happy return back, go to Zahle and proceed North through the valley, in the middle of fruit trees and other plantations. When arriving in Baalbek breathe fully and begin enjoying such a marvel: a phoenician city, then Greek Heliopolis, then romanized to huge structures un-paralleled anywhere. The Temple of Jupiter, the Temple of Bacchus and the Great Court are some of the features not to miss. Once again take yout time and try to feel in your skin as in your mind how much History is made of change.
On the return do not miss one of the vineyards chateaux which accept visits and wine tasting. Take your time and think how, whatever the changes of History are, there is allways some pleasure along the road.

422 METERS BELOW SEA LEVEL

This is currently were stands the water level of the Dead Sea; later it will be even lower, as the volume of liquid is receding every year, due to the capture of the river Jordan waters.
I have been three times at this lowest area on the land surface of Earth. The first, coming from Amman, was on the Jordanian side of the lake and included a lunch in a hotel facing the waters and a bath on its greasy waters with the classic picture of reading a newspaper while floating. The second, coming from Jerusalem, was on the Israeli side with a very similar tourist programme. The third, a few days later, was just passing by on a trip from Tiberias to Jerusalem and bypassing Jericho, which was not possible to visit because of the state of play of the relations between Palestine and Israel.
While descending from any of the two capitals, which are built on high ground, one must obviously pass by level zero. In both cases the points of the mean sea level are duly indicated by marks. You can see a picture of me on the Jordanian mark and imagine as if half my body was under water and the other half above water.

LOCKERBIE

The name of Lockerbie has again resurfed in the news, because of the Scottish Government's decision to allow the only convicted person of the plane's bombing to go free on compassion reasons.
In he Summer of 1990 I had a few days of political meetings near Limerick, Ireland and decided to go by car after inviting my old parents to come along. We used the weekend to travel: having crossed the Channel we headed North, instead of taking the short way through Wales. Before reaching the (un-controlled) border between England and Scotland, we took a detour to visit the Hadrian's Wall, a World Heritage site, as we did the next day in Northern Ireland to visit and walk on the Giant's Causeway, another WH place. Some ten minutes driving after the border we turned right to respectfully visit Lockerbie, a familiar name to me since in 1988 the PANAM flight 103 exploded in the skies and most of the wreckage landed in the village. I got a feeling that, given the plane was flying at around 800 kilometers per hour at an altitude of some 10,000 meters, the explosion may have ocurred still above England space and then inertia and gravity led the parts of the plane to finally touch down in the scotish village.
The next morning we crossed the North Channel from Stranraer to Larne.

4.335 METERS ABOVE SEA LEVEL

A journey by coach from Ollantaytambo to Puno looks like an adventure. Ollantaytambo is on the valley of the river Urubamba, better known to tourists as the Sacred Valley, in the Cusco Region; Puno is the capital of the Region with the same name, more to the South, on the Altiplano. The road passes by two interesting Inca villages, Calca and Pisac, this one with a major site of an Inca's fortress ruins; just after Pisac it crosses the river and begins climbing, as the valley comes to an end and is replaced by a canyon. From here till reaching the main highway linking Cusco and Puno it becomes a secondary road for some 60 kilometers, almost all the time up and up, the further up the more the vegetation gets rare. Here and there, towns and villages appear, notably San Pedro, which has the important Inca ruins of Raqchi, one of the holliest temples of all the Empire. Much later in the desolated landscape the coach stops for pictures: it's the separation point between the regions and the highest point in the road: a panel reads 4.335 meters above sea level. It's the highest spot I have been in so far! To the left, on the adjacent valley, I see passing the tired-looking train bound for Cusco. From here it's just going down till populated Juliaca, but not that much in fact: Juliaca is at 3.825 meters. Half an hour later on a now rather flat road the coach reaches Puno, by the Lake Titacaca and one feels happy for finally seing it.

THE BEST TRAIN STATIONS

Journalist Jaime Cuninngham recently published in NEWSWEEK a laudatory article about the best train stations he has spotted. I do not take this kind of exercises as something with the value of a doctrine, just a laudable point of view of a person with a degree of specialisation on the issue and who has travelled long enough to minimize the risks of what he has missed. Interestingly he chooses 9 "best" worldwide train stations, instead of the classic figure of 7 which has been favoured since long ago.
Let me divide the nine stations in two groups, those where I have been and those where not. I have been in St. Pancras (London), Grand Central Terminal (New York), Chhatrapati Shivaji (Mumbai), Central Station (Antwerpen), Central Railway Station (Maputo) and Atocha Station (Madrid). I have not (yet) been in Dare des Bénédictins (Limoges), Lahore Railway Station and Hua Hin Railway Station ( Hua Hin, Thailand), in spite of having already visited Lahore and Lomoges.
For several years the Maputo, earlier Lourenço Marques, station was very much familiar to me and I often passed by: the bank in which I worked was just some hunfred meters form the huge square which ensures the arquitectonical proeminence of the railway building. The one in Antwerp, which has enjoyed a big refurbishment years ago, is familiar to be, through my twenty years of living in nearby Brussels.
Had I been asked to pick one as the "biggest" I have no doubt on the choice: that in Mumbai (earlier Victoria Terminus). I suppose it is the number one, worldwide, in terms of size and number of daily passengers, but by "biggest" I do not mean it, rather the quality of its arquitecture and the overall beauty of the building. It is a real masterpiece and that's why it has been deservedly classified as a World Heritage site. Have a look at the picture!

TOWERS IN THE MIDDLE OF RIVERS

Few castles in the middle of rivers? Well, what about church towers in the middle of rivers? May be even fewer, or may be not.
The fact is that I know two of them and have passed by. Both are in the rivers, lakes and canals system which links Moscow and Saint Petersburg by water, a gigantic public works project carried on during the harshest period of Stalin rule. A lot of villages were "sacrificed" by the project and are now below water level. In some cases the towers of the respective churches were high enough not to be fully engulfed by the waters, so they now remain lone witnesses of a bygone past.
Free of charge, I allow you to see them as exactly as I did from my boat.

ALMOUROL

How many castles in the middle of rivers do you know? Not many for sure, as few do exist.
I only know two so far, both visited: one in the Rhine, the Pfalz by Caub, in a small sandy island and Almourol, a solid medieval fortress standing on a granite rocky island in the medium river Tagus. The name Almourol explains it all, although I do not know the exact meaning: it's related to the moors, who built some defensive structure on a site earlier occupied by the romans. After the moors were defeated, the island was given to the Templar Knigts and they built the castle still existing today, with the external walls and towers almost intact, but with the interior a lot ruined. The view from the higher tower is imposing and refreshing, as you may see yourselves, first best by paying a visit ( nearest town is Constância, where lived Camões, the great Portuguese XVI century poet), or, second best, by looking my annexed picture.
If I may argue with myself, there is a third castle I know in the middle of a river: facts are that it is more just a tower than a castle and it was in the middle of a river but it is no more, as the river shore advanced. It is the Belém Tower, in Lisbon, which is a World Heritage site.

THE FORBIDDEN CITY

It was forbidden to non welcomed visitors during the imperial times, it is now available to every one during the opening hours once the entry fee has been paid. I paid mine and was by no means alone: my stay in Beijing coincided with a holiday week for all (comemoration of the declaration of the establishment of Communist China on October the 1st) and the city was crowded with chinese tourists from other Provinces.
One never enters the world's largest palaces complex without some sense of humility and also, in my personal case, with some pride on accomplishing an youth dream of a semi-mithycal nature I had well before the place was declared a WH site. My wanderings in the palatial city took the full day, as I only left with the last ones under the pressure from the staff. Being fully surrounded by a high thick wall plus partially by a large water moat, the Forbidden City does not feel the permanent human turmoil which goes on outside; more than forbidden it is probably secluded. In its conception it was perceived as a place for those happy humans who are far above the other humans, purer and nicer on their superiority. Just get an idea through the nomenclature of some of the building structures: the Gate of Supreme Harmony, the Hall of Preserving Harmony, the Palace of Heavenly Purity, the Palace of Earthly Tranquility, the Hall of Mental Cultivation, the Palace of Tranquil Longevity, the Gate of Divine Might, the East Glorious Gate, and so on!
When I left all these marvellous concepts and skilled adorned rooms it was like falling into the standard routine, hopes and headaches of normal people.