If Gore Vidal visited Bali and Ubud

Bali in the Balance

On an island shaped by ritual and revenue, the daily act is not preservation but negotiation. 

Bali announces itself before it fully appears. The descent into Denpasar reveals a volcanic ridge through cloud, terraces cut into the hillsides, and a coastline that suggests calm. It is an appealing first impression, but the island is not simple. It is shaped by devotion, commerce, and habit, often simultaneously. I arrived expecting beauty and found a place negotiating its identity in public.

WC Fields: "Philadelphia, wonderful town, spent a week there one night."

W. C. Fields, real name William Claude Dukenfield, the famous American actor, comedian, juggler and writer active in the early 20th century, was well-known for his dry humour and cynical wit. Born near Philadelphia in 1880, he often referred to his birthplace in funny but disparaging remarks. One might wonder how, if prompted, he might have written a travel story that gives some clue to his true impressions. So, we asked him.

Emily and Charlotte Bronte in Moscow: Frostbite and Fancy in Red Square

 We came to Moscow as one might enter a dream that has hardened into stone. Winter had sealed the city in iron silence. Snow lay not gently but with authority, pressed into the streets like an edict, whitening even the darkest intentions. My sister walked beside me, her breath a pale banner unfurled against the cold, and together we crossed a world that seemed determined to remember us long after our names had fallen quiet.

If Mark Twain Visited Prague in Winter

It is a most curious fact that a man can grow quite frozen in body and yet remain red-hot in temper, and nowhere is this more evident than in Prague during the month of January. I arrived bundled, muffled, swaddled, and altogether rendered into something not unlike a trussed turkey, though perhaps less festive. The frost had the manners of a vagrant—bold, uninvited, and thoroughly impolite. It crept into boots, bit the nose, and showed a particular fondness for one's ears.

Where Empires Drift: A Passage Through the Bosporus

On a working waterway that divides continents, Istanbul reveals itself as a city shaped by currents, conflict and continuity, where ancient stone and modern steel drift side by side.

 The Bosporus was awake before the city admitted it. A thin light lay on the water like beaten tin, and the current ran hard and purposeful, as it had done long before men learned to give it names. The small ferry pushed off from the quay with a grunt of engines, nosing into the strait as if testing the mood of an old, unpredictable companion. Istanbul, sprawling and restless, leaned over the water on both sides, watching itself go by.

When Ernest Hemingway visited Rick's Cafe in Casablanca

I stepped into Rick's Cafe, the smoke-filled air clinging to my skin like a damp shroud. The sounds of clinking glasses and muted conversations enveloped me, transporting me to a bygone era. I took a seat at the bar, ordering a whiskey as I gazed around the room. The walls were adorned with memorabilia from the iconic film, and the staff moved with the precision of seasoned performers.

The bartender, a gruff but kind-eyed man, slid a glass in front of me. "Sour Jdid," he said, his voice low and gravelly. I took a sip, the tangy flavours mingling with the smoky atmosphere.

I spotted her then, a woman sitting alone at a table, her eyes fixed on some distant point. She was a vision in red, her hair dark and luxurious, her skin like alabaster. I watched her, mesmerized, as she sipped her drink, her eyes never leaving the spot.

If John Steinbeck visited the ancient city of Luxor

Travels in Dust and Time: A Journey to Luxor

The road from Cairo unrolled like a dry ribbon, a tether pulling us toward something older than cities, older perhaps than memory. Luxor, they called it now, though once it bore the name Thebes, a place of gods and pharaohs, of temples so large a man could lose his own smallness in their shadow. I came not as a scholar, nor as a pilgrim, but with the kind of hunger that comes from hearing whispers in stone.

A vintage visitors' guide to Egypt's Temple of Karnak

Welcome to the Glorious Temple of Karnak

Perched along the east bank of the eternal Nile, in the splendid city of Luxor—ancient Thebes—stands one of the most awe-inspiring architectural feats of antiquity: the Temple of Karnak. Here, beneath the ever-watchful Egyptian sun, echoes of the grandest pharaohs linger in stone, whispering tales of gods, kings, and divine power.

A Spirited Drive Along Victoria's Great Alpine Road

Picture this: a ribbon of asphalt unfurling across a landscape sculpted by ancient mountains, verdant valleys, and forests that seem to whisper tales of bygone eras. That's the Great Alpine Road, a 308-kilometre stretch of pure driving bliss that winds its way through Victoria's High Country. I recently had the chance to embark on this epic journey, and let me tell you, it's an experience that etches itself into your memory.

OMO: A Journey of Discovery

To visit the Omo Valley in Ethiopia is to be transported to another time and place altogther. We immerse ourselves in the bewildering diversity of cultures and tribal traditions.

The sun rose golden over the arid plains of southern Ethiopia, painting the land with the soft, amber hues of dawn. My guide, Alemayehu, a man with an easy smile and a knack for storytelling, had warned me that today would be unforgettable. The Omo Valley, he said, was unlike anywhere else on Earth. He was right.

If Ernest Hemingway visited Luang Prabang

Luang Prabang. A town shrouded in mist, like a forgotten memory. I stepped off the boat, onto worn wooden planks, and into the stillness. The Mekong River slid lazily by, a serpent of silver and brown.