Travel Stories

Spectacular is the only word that can describe the view from the plane window flying into Jackson Hole, Wyoming. One gets fearful as the Grand Tetons appear as though they will scrape the bottom of the plane at any second. One ponders whether at any moment the airline will play some documentary soundtrack to fit the experience; something with drums and trumpets. This, of course, presupposes that you are one of those fortu...

IF ONLY If my mum was different If my dad wasn't sad If my sister didn't tease me Then I would be glad If the war hadn't happened and my Uncle Archie didn't die My Dad would be happy And so would I If my sister didn't talk so much and take over each day Then I would tell people What I really want to say If my schooling had been different and I had got by just fine Then any career going would have been mine If I had stood...

One Sunday afternoon Claire and Llago hit the road to Tlaquiltenango to visit Guillermo Manon and his family who lived close to nature in the woods. Their only source of water was a well. The children loved the spontaneous hammocks that Guillermo made them by tying two ropes between two trees then folding a blanket over them. Just before the turning to the village Claire said “look pointing to a road sign, “Acapulco 300 K...

I returned to Paris as in days gone by, Now that I’m here, I’m not sure why, For the city that once felt like home, Is a joyless place when you’re alone. I can’t help but recall the older days, Of sipping wine in corner cafes, Romantic dinners by candle light, That lasted well into the night. The walks along the river Seine, Huddled together against the rain, Hand in hand we’d stroll the street, Stealing kisses, so discre...

 A wanton breeze blows o’er the sea,Far away from his place of birth;A colt unbridled, roaming free,A reckless child of sun and Earth;Forsaking gloom and winter rains,Fleeing the lands devoid of light,Across the lapis tinted plains,O how exuberant his flight!To shores untravelled since the yearsWhen hither the elect of God;Away from servitude and tears,With feet unshackled proudly trod.Here I too stand and gaze with joyUp...

 Every pebble in its placeUpon the quiet shore,Every bloom I see does graceThese hills a little more.Every tree its fragrance lendsTo scent the summer air,Every bird its sweet song sendsWhile perched I know not where.All this below a cloudless sky,Before a tranquil seaWith time enough to rest the eyeAnd set the spirit free.Leaving, my heart begins to yearn,Adieu, until my glad return.