1. Granada, Spain
Clacking castanets, tapping heels, strumming guitars as flamenco dancers swirl their skirts, and the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas tower behind the mighty Alhambra. It's a formidable fortress atop a hill and enclosing a fantasy of sculpted arches and halls, palaces, mosques, reflecting pools and great gardens. Spain is a warm European land where North Africans created wonders of intricate Islamic architecture and conquering Catholic conquistadores brought back the gold of the Americas to gild their cathedrals and embellish them with the treasures of Western art. In the star-spangled night, we hopped from tapas bar to tapas bar, nibbling snacks ordained by a king and sipping the distilled essence of sun-drenched vineyards. In the languid, drowsy days filled with the fragrance of orange blossoms, we shopped for lace mantillas, silver crafted by mudejars and Spanish leather as soft and as glistening as the pelt of a colt. Then we fortified ourselves with paella, quaffed at a chocolate bar stirring our rich brew with cinnamon quills, and gorged on cheeses ripened deep in limestone caves. Spain is what you make of it but, try as you might, it is never dull. Ole!
2. Istanbul, Turkey
It straddles two continents, two cultures and blends in a smiling, urbane way with both — Europe on the west bank of the Bosphorus, and Asia on the east. We stood in awe in the great Ayasofya cathedral-turned-mosque-turned-secular museum by the iconic founder of modern Turkey, the great Kemal Ataturk. We could read the Arabic inscribed at the base of the dome, our guide couldn't. Ataturk had adapted the Roman script to his tongue in his thrust to modernise his nation. In the arched labyrinth of the Great Bazaar, we strolled, wrapped in the sensory impressions of a Byzantine Constantinople — spice-and-scent sellers, the wooly fragrance of carpets and the rich aromas of doner-kebabs sizzling on their vertical spits. We bought a blue Devil's Eye charm to hang over our door to keep good fortune flowing in. On the Bosphorus cruise, the heraldic history of this crossroads of civilisation unreeled past, then we stepped ashore and walked around the Topkapi Palace Museum. It was déjà vu experience — almost Mughal because the Ottomans shared the same steppe-nomad origins. And we saw the Peacock Throne.
Turks still have their original, steam-splash-soak-thud-knead Turkish Baths followed by thick-black-sweet Turkish coffee. Bliss.
3. Xi'an, China
Say "Shee-ahn" and you identify an ancient walled city, capital of China's first Emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi (Recommended: an English-speaking guide). We walked down the road from our modern Garden Hotel, set in an old garden, discovered the seven-storey Big Goose Pagoda built in 652 by Xuanxang, a Buddhist monk. He had spent many years in India and established a library of Indian books here. Delighted to find that he was the famous Chinese traveller-historian we know as Hiuen-Tsang. The Chinese have had as many invasions as we have had, and as much destruction. Visited the Dongmen, Eastern Gate, where they rang a bell when opening it at dawn, and the Western Ximen where a drum thudded before it was closed at night. Rebuilt? They wouldn't say. No, invaders had discovered the greatest treasure of Xi'an. Driving out of the city, through the windblown loess countryside, we visited the world's greatest, oldest, standing army. In huge, roofed, excavations, an estimated 8,000 terracotta warriors stood silent, motionless, menacing, guarding the tomb of their emperor as they have been doing for more than 2,000 years. From their superb souvenir shop, we bought a little replica of a warrior. Unforgettable.
4. Malacca, Malaysia
Truly Asia? Yes, indeed. In the 15th century it was the hub of the world, in our 21st, it's spinning into the centre again. Malacca showcases it all. Exiled prince of Indian origin, Parameshwara, founded it. The beautiful, replicated, Sultan's Palace could have been teleported from Kerala. Soaring high on the rotating observation dome of the Menara Tamingsari, we gazed across at the old Portuguese Fort from where the Iberians had dominated the spice trade, and a reconstruction of the ship that had brought them. Across the road from the ship was a 20th century windmill to evoke the Dutch era — they had ousted the Portuguese and established their St. Peter's Church, standing as a living shrine. Then came the Brits and set up their snooty club, now transformed into a museum commemorating the freedom that Tungku Abdul Rehman had wrested from the Brits. Also, in this central hub, there are other museums of costumes, stamps and the varied, and often bizarre, concepts of beauty the world over. We chug-chugged on a cruise down the river, experienced the heritage of the Malay-Chinese-Indian and fusion communities of Malaysia and dined on their cuisine, not wisely, but too well. Replete!
5. The Brahmaputra Cruise, Assam
It's more than a river. It's a flowing sea. For four days and four nights we sailed on it aboard the R V Charaidew, left our prejudices behind, embraced another lifestyle, a different world. The river is a great, muscled, life-governing creature. Sometimes, we stopped, drove strong bamboo spikes into the banks, moored, hopped into our tow-along ferry, stepped ashore. Lush lands clothed in reeds and forests of bamboo, Mishmi villages on stilts, a pretty girl weaving her trousseau, a notched bamboo to climb to the floor of the hut where protocol governs the seating of the family. "If the river rises, we will dismantle out hut and relocate it on higher ground as our ancestors have always done" — the pragmatism of the people of the river. We trudged through the monuments of the powerful Ahoms who ruled here for longer than the Mughals and the British, combined, dominated the rest of India. Then they vanished. On Majuli, the world's largest riverine island, we met the artistic monks of the charismatic seer Sankaradeva — musician, choreographer, painter, poet, mask-maker, social reformer, polymath. Our minds still sing as new insights quicken it like the life-giving flow of the river. Incredible.
6. The Rann, Gujarat
Once it was a bay of the Arabian Sea, then the waters had retreated, leaving a forbidding, crystalline waste. But when we ventured into the Rann, slowly, it came alive for us. The Rann is vast and varied and the salt deserts are just a part of it. Atop a hillock, or bet, spreads the ruined city of Dholavira, our first SEZ as old as history. Across cement-hard plains, herds of the beautiful wild asses thunder. We've photographed desert foxes with radar-antenna ears and shrimp-straining flocks of pink flamingoes dabbling in the salt marshes. Once unbelievably, quite unbelievably, we stood at a temple on a hill while the sun sank fiery-scarlet into its own reflection in the shimmering Rann.
The bells of evening aarti had stopped ringing when a priest emerged from the sanctum carrying a brass pot of prasad. He walked to a platform rising out of a scrubby slope, tipped out the blessed food, struck the pot with a spoon, and retreated. And the bushes began to move as hundreds of snapping wild jackals appeared and began to feast on their temple fare. Fascinating.
All these wondrous worlds can be yours if you seek them.
Clacking castanets, tapping heels, strumming guitars as flamenco dancers swirl their skirts, and the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas tower behind the mighty Alhambra. It's a formidable fortress atop a hill and enclosing a fantasy of sculpted arches and halls, palaces, mosques, reflecting pools and great gardens. Spain is a warm European land where North Africans created wonders of intricate Islamic architecture and conquering Catholic conquistadores brought back the gold of the Americas to gild their cathedrals and embellish them with the treasures of Western art. In the star-spangled night, we hopped from tapas bar to tapas bar, nibbling snacks ordained by a king and sipping the distilled essence of sun-drenched vineyards. In the languid, drowsy days filled with the fragrance of orange blossoms, we shopped for lace mantillas, silver crafted by mudejars and Spanish leather as soft and as glistening as the pelt of a colt. Then we fortified ourselves with paella, quaffed at a chocolate bar stirring our rich brew with cinnamon quills, and gorged on cheeses ripened deep in limestone caves. Spain is what you make of it but, try as you might, it is never dull. Ole!
2. Istanbul, Turkey
It straddles two continents, two cultures and blends in a smiling, urbane way with both — Europe on the west bank of the Bosphorus, and Asia on the east. We stood in awe in the great Ayasofya cathedral-turned-mosque-turned-secular museum by the iconic founder of modern Turkey, the great Kemal Ataturk. We could read the Arabic inscribed at the base of the dome, our guide couldn't. Ataturk had adapted the Roman script to his tongue in his thrust to modernise his nation. In the arched labyrinth of the Great Bazaar, we strolled, wrapped in the sensory impressions of a Byzantine Constantinople — spice-and-scent sellers, the wooly fragrance of carpets and the rich aromas of doner-kebabs sizzling on their vertical spits. We bought a blue Devil's Eye charm to hang over our door to keep good fortune flowing in. On the Bosphorus cruise, the heraldic history of this crossroads of civilisation unreeled past, then we stepped ashore and walked around the Topkapi Palace Museum. It was déjà vu experience — almost Mughal because the Ottomans shared the same steppe-nomad origins. And we saw the Peacock Throne.
Turks still have their original, steam-splash-soak-thud-knead Turkish Baths followed by thick-black-sweet Turkish coffee. Bliss.
3. Xi'an, China
Say "Shee-ahn" and you identify an ancient walled city, capital of China's first Emperor, Qin Shi Huangdi (Recommended: an English-speaking guide). We walked down the road from our modern Garden Hotel, set in an old garden, discovered the seven-storey Big Goose Pagoda built in 652 by Xuanxang, a Buddhist monk. He had spent many years in India and established a library of Indian books here. Delighted to find that he was the famous Chinese traveller-historian we know as Hiuen-Tsang. The Chinese have had as many invasions as we have had, and as much destruction. Visited the Dongmen, Eastern Gate, where they rang a bell when opening it at dawn, and the Western Ximen where a drum thudded before it was closed at night. Rebuilt? They wouldn't say. No, invaders had discovered the greatest treasure of Xi'an. Driving out of the city, through the windblown loess countryside, we visited the world's greatest, oldest, standing army. In huge, roofed, excavations, an estimated 8,000 terracotta warriors stood silent, motionless, menacing, guarding the tomb of their emperor as they have been doing for more than 2,000 years. From their superb souvenir shop, we bought a little replica of a warrior. Unforgettable.
4. Malacca, Malaysia
Truly Asia? Yes, indeed. In the 15th century it was the hub of the world, in our 21st, it's spinning into the centre again. Malacca showcases it all. Exiled prince of Indian origin, Parameshwara, founded it. The beautiful, replicated, Sultan's Palace could have been teleported from Kerala. Soaring high on the rotating observation dome of the Menara Tamingsari, we gazed across at the old Portuguese Fort from where the Iberians had dominated the spice trade, and a reconstruction of the ship that had brought them. Across the road from the ship was a 20th century windmill to evoke the Dutch era — they had ousted the Portuguese and established their St. Peter's Church, standing as a living shrine. Then came the Brits and set up their snooty club, now transformed into a museum commemorating the freedom that Tungku Abdul Rehman had wrested from the Brits. Also, in this central hub, there are other museums of costumes, stamps and the varied, and often bizarre, concepts of beauty the world over. We chug-chugged on a cruise down the river, experienced the heritage of the Malay-Chinese-Indian and fusion communities of Malaysia and dined on their cuisine, not wisely, but too well. Replete!
5. The Brahmaputra Cruise, Assam
It's more than a river. It's a flowing sea. For four days and four nights we sailed on it aboard the R V Charaidew, left our prejudices behind, embraced another lifestyle, a different world. The river is a great, muscled, life-governing creature. Sometimes, we stopped, drove strong bamboo spikes into the banks, moored, hopped into our tow-along ferry, stepped ashore. Lush lands clothed in reeds and forests of bamboo, Mishmi villages on stilts, a pretty girl weaving her trousseau, a notched bamboo to climb to the floor of the hut where protocol governs the seating of the family. "If the river rises, we will dismantle out hut and relocate it on higher ground as our ancestors have always done" — the pragmatism of the people of the river. We trudged through the monuments of the powerful Ahoms who ruled here for longer than the Mughals and the British, combined, dominated the rest of India. Then they vanished. On Majuli, the world's largest riverine island, we met the artistic monks of the charismatic seer Sankaradeva — musician, choreographer, painter, poet, mask-maker, social reformer, polymath. Our minds still sing as new insights quicken it like the life-giving flow of the river. Incredible.
6. The Rann, Gujarat
Once it was a bay of the Arabian Sea, then the waters had retreated, leaving a forbidding, crystalline waste. But when we ventured into the Rann, slowly, it came alive for us. The Rann is vast and varied and the salt deserts are just a part of it. Atop a hillock, or bet, spreads the ruined city of Dholavira, our first SEZ as old as history. Across cement-hard plains, herds of the beautiful wild asses thunder. We've photographed desert foxes with radar-antenna ears and shrimp-straining flocks of pink flamingoes dabbling in the salt marshes. Once unbelievably, quite unbelievably, we stood at a temple on a hill while the sun sank fiery-scarlet into its own reflection in the shimmering Rann.
The bells of evening aarti had stopped ringing when a priest emerged from the sanctum carrying a brass pot of prasad. He walked to a platform rising out of a scrubby slope, tipped out the blessed food, struck the pot with a spoon, and retreated. And the bushes began to move as hundreds of snapping wild jackals appeared and began to feast on their temple fare. Fascinating.
All these wondrous worlds can be yours if you seek them.