Cultivating Friendship

 

 

With nothing more than scribbled directions, I somehow found the ‘large blue gate’ of the old presbytère. Concealed behind ivy-clad stone walls, this former priest house was to be my home for the next month. In a tiny hamlet untouched by time, I would experience the authentic culture of rural France. Now more leaden in colour, the ‘blue’ threshold appeared foreboding with its sun-blistered paint cloaked in cobwebs and unkempt foliage. Nevertheless, curiosity and fatigue outweighed my fear, urging me to find out what was on the other side. In the midst of the presbytère garden, rising from a sea of wild grasses and prickly brambles, was a fabulous fig tree. Its outstretched bows were veiled in vibrant green leaves, a multitude of hands shielding its modesty. This mythical tree of life, wisdom and enlightenment was heavily-laden with my favourite fruit: plump purple figs oozing amber nectar. I had found my very own Garden of Eden in the heart of Provence! Subsequent days passed in a figgy haze, as though I were entranced by this sumptuous fruit on which I feasted at every opportunity. Alas, this enthusiasm inevitably reached a satiated peak, leading me to preserve and freeze this plentiful crop rather than see it go to waste. But as this equally had its limits, I decided to share my bounty with my fellow neighbours – a sociable gesture that would also allow me to explore the little hamlet. Built to withstand the ravages of nature, this small group of stone houses all faced the south, limiting their exposure to the fearsome mistral; while narrow windows and wooden shutters kept their interiors cool in summer and warm in winter. Practicality aside, these measures created an austere ambiance reminiscent of a ghost town, especially as these dwellings stood in the shadows of an eerie-looking turreted chateau. Ostensibly inhabited by an aristocratic count, its former glory was crumbling like its aging facade. Not one to be defeated, I plucked up the courage to knock on the first door I came to, basket in hand brimming with friendly figs. However, it required a lot more than figs to fuse a bond with these local residents, who were sceptical about my intentions. Some peered behind gaping shutters, blatantly ignoring my knocking, while others angrily complained about their own glut of this fertile fruit. Rejected and disheartened, I was about to abandon my neighbourly efforts when I came across an elderly gardener diligently cutting the church lawn with an antiquated mower. As he paused for breath I took the opportunity to introduce myself and offer him the shunned supply of figs. With a humble smile of gratitude, he accepted my gift and swiftly returned to his onerous task. In-keeping with the rest of its parish, the church was hidden behind closed shutters, its front door firmly bolted. Though I may not have been welcome at that particular moment, a faded notice informed me that the monthly mass was scheduled for the following day – hence the lawn being mown. This spiritual occasion would perhaps be a more opportune time to meet the friendlier folk of this small community. Come Sunday morning, I was somewhat hesitant, having been spurned the previous day, yet I was encouraged by the hope of finding more conviviality in God’s presence. When I entered the cold dark interior of His holy house, the small congregation remained totally oblivious to my presence as I quietly sought a vacant pew. Smartly attired in their Sunday best, these worshippers kept their eyes firmly fixed forward; be it in heavenly prayer or to avoid social contact, I had clearly been over optimistic. Resigned to the fact that friendship was not to be found in this hallowed place, I focussed my attention on the mass itself, endeavouring to follow the French liturgy while occasionally glancing at the service sheet for that Sunday. My distracted thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice reading the first lesson; it was the dutiful lawn-keeper, the only person to have shown any kindness the previous day. On concluding the reading, he respectfully bowed at the altar before making his way back to his pew. I couldn’t help but notice the difference in his appearance; his rather old-fashioned yet classically-cut suit gave him a distinguished air. Despite my discreet scrutiny, I inadvertently caught his eye; but, in contrast to his fellow parishioners, he gave me a nod and knowing smile. As I bashfully turned my gaze back to the order of service, it fell upon the name of the reader – none other than Monsieur le Comte of le grand chateau!

Brazil's Wet Wonderland

 

Pouso Alegre Lodge

Like Alice in Wonderland, I grew curiouser and curiouser when planning a long-awaited trip to Brazil. Little did I know that the Amazon rainforest had a close rival boasting even more wildlife species. I eagerly read the pros and cons of these two contenders, fervently debated on adventure travel forums. All this threatened my fine-tuned travel schedule, yet how could I possibly ignore this extraordinary location whose name kept appearing before my eyes: The Pantanal, the world’s largest tropical wetlands.

Further research informed me that The Pantanal is one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet where thousands of bird, plant, fish and reptile species live in its vast lakes, lagoons, rivers and marshes. My appetite had been sufficiently whetted for me to adjust my trip to include this extraordinary location. 

I promptly set about looking for accommodation, sifting through and rejecting modern setups that considered swimming pools and similar comforts a priority. Likewise, I dismissed those that looked too makeshift and not in-keeping with the rustic surroundings. I then stumbled across Pousada Pouso Alegre located in The Pantanal in the central-west Brazilian state of Mato Grosso. In the midst of flora and fauna, this lodge was established in the 90s by the Silva Campos family. I proceeded to correspond with the son of the founder, Luiz Vicente da Silva Campos Filho, whose relaxed character was to reflect the simplicity and authenticity of the lodge.

No sooner had my booking and organising finished than I was packing and flying off to the fascinating country of Brazil. After a swift tour of Rio, vowing to make a return visit, we flew to Cuiabá some 133km from our lodge. We had been recommended to hire a car, ‘one that is higher because of bumps on roads’.We promptly chose a four-wheel drive jeep, which we did indeed need when faced with deep tracks in the terracotta terrain, obviously carved by vehicles during the rainy season.

Luiz had sent us rather scant instructions on how to find the lodge, which were indicative of the isolated character of this area. I had been somewhat sceptical but they proved to be accurate: ‘Take the Transpantaneira road towards Porto Jofre. Look out for a police station, a gate and a solitary bar. Turn right, cross two bridges … and after several hundred metres you will find the lodge.’

Rickety Bridge

 

Bird of Prey

Known as the gateway to the Northern Pantanal, the Transpantaneira road is a single straight dirt track for 150km, its final destination being the settlement of Porto Jofre. It crosses over 100 wooden bridges, most of which seem in desperate need of repair and require a hope and a prayer to cross. This neglect reflects the absence of human presence, which is of benefit to the wildlife allowed to prosper in peace. The road is thus an ideal opportunity to observe flora and fauna ... ‘A veritable natural trail’ to quote a renowned travel guide’s description of the Transpantaneira. 

Tapir

Rhea

 

This is no exaggeration; the plethora of wildlife was like a welcome party staged by our lodge. Together with thin-legged egrets, we spotted many birds of prey nonchalantly strolling by the side of the road, totally oblivious to our presence. As we approached the lodge we passed what looked like a cross between a pig and a hippo wallowing in a pool of muddy water. It was neither of these creatures but a tapir, a herbivorous animal with a short prehensile nose. We were later greeted by a family of rhea elegantly parading around the grounds of the lodge. These flightless South American ostriches were equally indifferent to our existence, exemplifying their trust of humankind.

And this was no surprise given the farm-like surroundings of the lodge where wildlife lives in harmony with the nature-loving people that visit, live or work there. We were warmly greeted by Luiz who showed us around the simple yet comfortable dormitory-style guest accommodation, complete with mosquito screens, ceiling fans and outdoor hammocks. We then enjoyed a healthy lunch of fresh local fare, including creative bean and vegetable dishes, with meat options, all served with rice or potatoes. This hearty fortifying cuisine provided vital energy for adventurous nature seekers.

It was November and thus a quiet period for tourists. We were in the sole company of two avid camouflage-clad ‘twitchers’ from Spain, complete with impressive looking cameras with telescopic tripods and telephoto zoom lenses. They enthusiastically explored the grounds at sunrise and often brought their finds to breakfast – notably a wriggly black snake that was supposedly harmless.

The lodge offered wildlife spotting safaris on foot, horseback, by jeep or canoe. Whilst perusing over the options, we learned some interesting facts about The Pantanal – little known to many. Stretching across three South American countries (Bolivia, Brazil and Paraguay) for more than 42 million acres, The Pantanal is the largest tropical freshwater wetland in the world. By definition, a wetland is an area of land covered by water, be it saltwater, freshwater or even a combination of the two. This gigantic ecosystem is an ideal habitat for wildlife, providing protection of species while sustaining their reproduction. There is thus a high concentration of wildlife, outshining the Amazon in number and variety.

Caiman

This includes the endangered jaguar and its caiman prey whose relative densities are greater than anywhere else in the world. Part of the alligator family, caiman have scaly skin and live a fairly nocturnal existence. They inhabit Central and South America, from marshes and swamps to mangroves, rivers and lakes.

The Pantanal is home to approximately 3,500 plant species, 650 bird species, 325 fish species, 150 mammals, 50 amphibians and 100 reptiles, including jaguars, caimans, capybaras (native to South America, the world’s largest living rodent), tapirs, coatis, rheas, giant otters, anteaters, armadillos, capuchin and black howler monkeys, toco toucans and hyacinth macaws (the largest parrot on the planet). The Pantanal also supports human life by sustaining the livelihoods of millions of inhabitants of South American communities.

Capybara

 

Howler Monkey

We chose a guided safari on-foot that took us across grassland and swamp areas where we spotted numerous colourful birds clinging to the rushes. A family of capybara casually scouted the earth for food, whereas stripy tailed coatis playfully dashed in and out of the bushes. As we wandered through forests, passing trees with wide buttress roots, our sharp-eyed guide pointed out lace-like toadstools and gigantic spiders on thick sticky webs. While howler monkeys jumped from tree to tree living up to their name with their wild cries. 

 

Dwarf Owl

We also opted for a night safari by jeep, to give us another perspective of the wildlife. It was rather eerie to see the beady golden eyes of caimans opening and closing their fearsome snouts in the shallow waters. Anteaters equally like to roam in the dark hours, often in groups; whereas a lone dwarf owl twirled its head and greeted us with a shrill hoot.

The rest of our time was spent relaxing in our hammock on the terrace, swatting up on wildlife we had seen and other potential sightings. Scattered across its extensive property, the lodge had a host of trails that we explored independently at a leisurely pace. These gave access to diverse environments, from dry to flooded forests, savannahs and swamps, each rich with species of The Pantanal.

Whether a novice or a wildlife enthusiast, The Pantanal gives visitors a first-hand experience of nature in an isolated environment – where your encounters will have you grinning like a Cheshire cat!

Having given my amateur viewpoint of The Pantanal, I thought it would be interesting to ask a couple of experts their main reasons for visiting these wetlands:

Luiz Vincente da Silva Campos Filho, owner of Pousada Pouso Alegre:

‘The Pantanal is an ecological region that is rich with animal and plant species from different South American biome. It is easier to observe natural life in The Pantanal because the landscapes are more open and offer better views. Visiting The Pantanal is an opportunity to experience nature that has not been affected by a human presence.’

Rebecca Field, renowned wildlife photographer:

‘The Pantanal is an ideal destination for adventurous nature lovers, offering an enormous variety of birds, mammals and fish – all unspoiled by human development. Jaguars were at the top of my list as a reason for going there, together with birds. A birder would be overwhelmed by the sightings of so many species, notably the hyacinth macaw, jabiru and toco toucan. The Pantanal is a rewarding photography destination where one can easily discover and photograph rarely seen wonders of nature. The Pantanal provides a broadening, life-enriching experience like no other and is simply unforgettable.’

 

 

Sri Lanka 2020

 

Curious Contrasts in Southern Sri Lanka

Embark upon a voyage of diverse discoveries along Sri Lanka’s southern coast … From beautiful beaches off the beaten track to colourful culture in the heart of a Sri Lankan home. And history comes alive in the ancient port of Galle where exotic goods were traded in the time of Abraham. Or simply relax in an eco-lodge offering timeless tranquillity in Sri Lanka’s luscious landscape.

 Characterful Coves

 

As you descend from the fragrant plantations of Sri Lanka’s green heights, the air is freshened by salty breezes from the crashing waves of its southern shores. Outlying reefs provide protection to the secluded palm-fringed coastline, while forming shallow lagoons for a few fishing boats or the occasional local bather. There is a certain serenity associated with a somnolent Sunday when time seems to take on a different meaning … And there is no better place to spend a day of rest than Mirissa, a small coastal town whose attractive beach offers relaxation under a palm-thatched umbrella. Its foamy crests entice energetic surfers and its coral reefs inspire keen snorkelers; while others come for its impressive sightings of whales, dolphins and turtles.

Mirissa has a certain hippy vibe that sets it apart from Sri Lanka’s typical tourist trail. Pastel coloured beach shacks sell healthy juices and the latest in vegan cuisine – popular favourites among its beatnik clientele. The beach is equally frequented by the locals, particularly at the weekend when small groups gather for picnics or ball games. The town itself is dotted with cafés and restaurants, together with small shops selling local artifacts and surfing paraphernalia. There is range of places to stay to suit every budget, from hostels to boutique hotels, as well as eco-lodges and ayurvedic yoga retreats.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

Further accommodation can be found in a hospitable homestay that provides an authentic insight into Sri Lanka’s domestic culture. Dotted along the southern coast there are many host families inviting guests to their homes – often rather modest, yet creatively decorated in a bright palette evocative of Mexican casas. This creativity extends to welcoming touches, be it pleated bedspreads adorned with fragrant flowers or fresh juice topped with tropical fruit.

Although respectfully revered, guests may be asked to help prepare the evening meal. Commonly adept in the art of cuisine, their Sri Lankan hosts skilfully choreograph this gastronomic performance – grating, slicing, sautéing an array of herbs, spices and vegetables. This pan-frying dance is akin to a culinary ballet producing a grand finale of subtly spiced vegetable dishes to tantalise the tastebuds. This sumptuous feast is generally eaten together; and while Westerners enjoy conversation, most Sri Lankans relish their meal in silence – social discussion is usually before the meal. Cutlery may well be provided for guests, but Sri Lankan hosts traditionally eat with the fingers of their right hand. This custom originates from Eastern religions that consider the right hand to be ‘noble’ and the left hand to be ‘unclean’ as it is used for bodily hygiene. Another Eastern tradition is to leave a small amount of food on your plate to indicate satiety, whereas a clean plate signifies that you are still hungry.

Sri Lankan hosts tend to retire to slumber soon after the evening meal, and then wake early to prepare a breakfast for their guests. This normally consists of fresh fruit, ‘pol roti’ (coconut flat bread) or ‘hoppers’ (semi-spherical pancakes), which may be accompanied by lentil dahl or curry – all served with herb-infused tea. Although Sinhala is the common language, many Sri Lankans have a basic knowledge of English; so, with the help of sign language, guests can strike up a good rapport with their hosts and some even stay in touch with these generous-hearted families. On a parting note, gifts such as a memento of the guest’s home country make a nice gesture of thanks.

Historical Treasure

The charming coves of this southern coast are equally famed for their stilt-fishermen. Popularised by an iconic photograph from the 90s, this stilt-fishing method is sadly no longer economical, so is seldom practised. The few stilt-fishermen that remain are now earning more money posing for photographs or teaching tourists this bygone skill.

By contrast, the common technique now used in Sri Lanka is ‘beach seine’ or ‘drag-net’ fishing, which involves encircling a large area of water with a net to entrap a considerable quantity of fish. This is a customary sight when entering the town of Galle by way of its bountiful bays. Crowds frequently gather round to watch a merry band of men ‘play tug-of-war’ as they heave on ropes hauling their winnings ashore. This daily catch is usually destined for the fish market lining the roadside behind the beach. Shaded by corrugated awnings, these makeshift stalls are laden with shiny fish – including those caught at the crack of dawn by local fishermen whose colourful wooden boats and tangled nets punctuate the beach.

Beyond this hive of present day activity is ‘Galle Fort’, steadfastly resisting the passage of time upon its rocky peninsula. Within the walls of this robust fortification is an attractive residential community whose quiet tree-lined streets and well-preserved buildings invite you to simply amble and take in the surroundings.

Some travel reviews misleadingly wax lyrically about Galle Fort’s pastels, yet in reality the majority of the buildings are whitewashed or sand coloured. The local architecture reflects the styles of former colonial powers (Portuguese, Dutch and British) harmonised with Sri Lankan designs ornately carved in wood or cast in stonework. The buildings are well-adapted to the local climate: verandas and balconies offer outdoor living space, while louvered windows allow indoor ventilation; then shutters are used to keep out heat and daylight as well as inclement weather. Further insulation is provided by the barrel-shaped terracotta roof tiles, equally favoured for their durability.

Long before the arrival of Western seafarers or colonists, Galle was a key maritime trading port on the Spice Route (from Eastern China to Western Europe). Local cinnamon was exported to the Middle East, as far back as 2,000 B.C.; and ivory and peacocks were sent to King Solomon!

It was then in the 16th century that the Portuguese instigated the fortification of Galle, which was somewhat by default as it had merely been their haven in a storm. The Dutch subsequently seized Galle in the mid-17th century when lending their support to the Sinhalese, peeved by the Portuguese presence in their country. The fortress and community were greatly transformed by these Dutch colonists, improving the housing and the infrastructure – their state-of-the-art sewerage system still exists today! Changing events in Europe led to the British rule of ‘Ceylon’ from 1796. Their new name for the country was not dissimilar to the Dutch ‘Seylon’, which evolved from the Portuguese ‘Ceilao’ based on the Latin ‘Seelan’, commonly used in Europe at that time.

The successful tea and rubber plantations of the British era not only popularised the nation of Ceylon across the globe, but also gave rise to further development of Galle harbour and refinements to the existing infrastructure. Elegant houses and ‘home comforts’ were provided for the plantation owners, including libraries, billiard rooms, tennis courts and even a race-course! Banks and other financial institutions were established, along with a postal and telegraph system; trains were also introduced, followed by motor cars – long before the arrival of the ubiquitous ‘tuk-tuk’ auto-rickshaw.

Galle Fort’s vibrant history has created a multi-ethnic and multi-religious population – principally artists, writers, photographers, designers and poets – that lives together in harmony. Totalling approximately 90,000, over half of these are Sinhalese, followed by a strong Moor presence; the rest are either Malay, Eurasian or expatriates of the former colonies. The small businesses reflect this arty multi-cultural community: cafés serve gelatos and espressos, while chic restaurants offer fusion cuisine; and boutiques sell handmade ornate accessories and embroidered, printed clothing. Authentically maintained and restored, the impressive colonial-style hotels include ‘The Galle Fort Hotel’, said to be ‘a living piece of history’. Dutch street signs also echo a bygone era; and the name Ceylon is nostalgically present, from commercial signs to retro souvenirs. It is still considered by some to symbolise prestige, despite the official name change to ‘Sri Lanka’ (resplendent island) when it became a republic in 1972.

The preservation of Galle Fort is largely due to its previous trading wealth, as well its governance over the years. The current Heritage Foundation and affiliate institutions clearly work hard to protect, preserve and develop the Fort’s history and archaeology – thereby meriting its status as a UNESCO World Heritage site. The ancient interior is equally protected by its ramparts, resilient over the centuries and thankfully not breached by the Boxing Day tsunami of 2004.

Galle Fort is certainly a unique place, ideally visited at leisure with time to stop and stare and enjoy many an enchanting tale while sipping tea in the shade of a veranda.

Back to Nature

 

 

By contrast, you can discover Sri Lanka’s rustic reality by meandering along a bumpy dirt track, through cattle fields and palm tree plantations, that takes you to the ecolodge, ‘Huma Terra’ – the promise of good fortune. You will be greeted by your host, Jean-Loup, a French expat who is nevertheless very much at home, commonly attired in a Sri Lankan sarong; while his long hair, beard and sun-weathered face gives him a rather bohemian air. Jean-Loup’s quiet demeanour may hide his warm-hearted character, but this will doubtlessly emerge during your stay … starting with him gallantly carrying your suitcases up the steep steps to your unique accommodation. Cradled in the branches of a large tree, this enchanting abode is reminiscent of childhood fairy tales.

 

Huma Terra is a perfect place for an eco-retreat – literally in the heart of nature. Strategically located for tranquil privacy, each of its five treehouses is a circular structure wrapped around a tree trunk and topped with palms. Mosquito screens replace walls and windows, creating an open-air ambiance. The carefully thought-out design and construction, in locally-sourced quality materials, reflect the unrelenting dedication of Jean-Loup and his French wife Solange. Having spent a substantial length of time searching to find the best location, it took several years of hard work before finally realising their dream. Surrounded by palm forest and rice fields, they had evidently found the ideal terrain – complete with freely roaming animals and family donkey peering from his pasture. The property itself is naturally landscaped with an array of tropical plants and flowers. Harmonised with this flora and fauna are the wooden cabanas housing the lounge area, dining room, bar and kitchen; next to which is the pool whose dark jade tiles merge with the verdant vegetation beyond its infinity edge.

Amongst her many roles, Solange is the chef de cuisine, who creatively prepares gourmet dishes using fresh local ingredients. And breakfast, or should I say ‘petit déjeuner’, is very French with ‘pain et confiture’ and even a Sri Lankan croissant known as ‘kimbula banis’. They also serve pressed juice and local eggs; and the pièce de resistance is the freshly ground coffee – a welcomed contrast to the instant Nescafé that Sri Lankans proudly offer to tourists!

It is a truly beautiful place to spend a few days simply unwinding, reading, swimming or even exploring the environs of Huma Terra through forest and fields – where you may occasionally come across a small dwelling or a few curious children, friendly dogs or locals going about their day.

Huma Terra is the perfect place to end this southern jaunt, where you can reflect upon fond memories of curious contrasts on this resplendent island.

 

Brazil & Argentina 2018 - Rain in Rio

 

 

This will be your view she said pointing to the screen – dense white clouds and no sign of Christ!

I was in Rio de Janeiro for a couple of days during a comprehensive tour of Brazil. My first day was spent exploring the city, admiring vibrant stained glass streaking the Mayan-style pyramid cathedral. I witnessed eclectic fine art in its national museum, where classic oils contrasted with florescent mirrors of modern day. Then a steaming shrimp moqueca was savoured at a street stand, rubbing shoulders with the locals. Whereas a rich espresso was sipped at the elegant Confeitaria Colombo whose sinuous art nouveau transported me back in time.

This whistle-stop tour of the city was beneath azure skies and dazzling sunshine; just the type of weather one expects during a Brazilian springtime, leading one to complacently ignore meteorological forecasts – until good fortune changes …

I was awoken by explosive bangs and splitting cracks, like someone moving heavy furniture in the room above. But the subsequent resounding pitter-patter made me realise that I was in the midst of a thunderstorm – not the best conditions for visiting Christ. I grimaced despairingly as I looked at the rain-sodden tropical garden where I had eaten breakfast the previous day. The birdlike heliconias and droopy elephant ears were relishing the weather more than me. I munched crispy granola and sipped freshly squeezed juice in the sombre dining room, while contemplating the torrents, willing them to stop. The loquacious manager cheerfully predicted clear skies for that afternoon – most possibly out of sympathy when she discovered that this was my last opportunity to see the Redeeming Lord.

My boutique hotel was in the hilltop district of Santa Teresa, currently shrouded in ashen clouds. The area offered ‘a village-like vibe’ with its colonial mansions, now home to artists’ studios, restaurants or cocktail bars, interspersed with street art daubing the walls of the steep winding streets … All of which I was to discover whilst biding time, mackintosh-clad beneath a brolly, endeavouring to remain positive. As I sought shelter and sustenance in a quaint café, an empty tram morosely glided by, equally lamenting this inclement weather. The afternoon was upon us, but there was no sign of this incessant rain abating.

Or was there? Forever the optimist, a faint glimmer of light beyond the grey haze convinced me to boldly venture to Corcovado mountain. First I had to find a taxi, which was a rare commodity on this dismal day. After a wet twenty minutes, subjected to incessant showers and tyre splashes, a familiar yellow vehicle came to my rescue. The driver questioningly raised his eyebrows when I said ‘Cristo Redentor por favor’ – either in response to my broken Portuguese or choice of destination or both. Nevertheless he agreed to take a foolhardy tourist to the sacred peak.

Despite his good intentions, the road up to the mountain was steeper and wetter than anticipated, making the wheels of the car whir in desperation then zigzag backwards in defeat. After a couple of attempts, the driver gave up his battle, with the parting words ‘Bus go to mountain’, as he deposited me at the nearby bus station. Yet, unbeknown to him, the buses had also ceased to operate on account of the weather.

Determined to carry out my mission, I had no choice but to bow my head against the deluge and make my way to the train. I carefully clambered the slippery slope that eventually led me to an empty station. Totally devoid of tourist queues, there was just a couple of idle staff in the ticket booth.

With a look of surprise and pity I was greeted by one of these uniformed ladies who, almost apologetically, proceeded to indicate the live videos of what I would see at the top of the mountain. Cloaked in white and hidden from view was the vista over Sugarloaf Mountain and Guanabara Bay; while Christ was equally nowhere to be seen. Like staking a bet, I dutifully paid the twenty-dollar fare then boarded the train, resolutely optimistic.

Once at the top, I climbed the steps to the foot of the Redeemer and stood there all alone, patiently waiting for him to emerge. A faint breeze shifted wisps of clouds, revealing part of the elongated statue with arms welcomingly outstretched. Then Christ’s gracious face was unveiled, displaying a tender gaze that seemed to acknowledge my unrelenting faith and courage in taking the risk against all odds.

 

 Venice - September 2021

 

Espresso

Intense aromas tempt and tease

And dance on palates seeking to please.

Locked in an ovoid,

A nugget of gold,

Stunning sensations,

Rich and bold.

Coated in crema

Concealing within

This Powerful potion,

A veritable sin.