TravelswithCharie

We drifted leisurely on the Nile, from Luxor to Aswan, and marveled at the temples and tombs of the kings. Every morning I woke up to a spectacular sunrise and the promise of new discoveries. Our guide took us to a historical site early in the day (before the crowds arrived and while temperatures were bearable) and there he would nourish us with interesting vignettes on pharaonic civilization. The evenings were devoted to sampling delectable Egyptian cuisine and colorful local entertainment. The unhurried and gentle life on the Nile with tremendous views of green riverbanks, bordered by sand and rock, will stay with me always.  ***** Images by TravelswithCharie

Karnak Temple   As the wheels of our plane glided across the runway at Luxor airport, I had the impression we were landing on a bed of sand. Egypt, after all, is a vast desert broken by the Nile River and delta. But rather than steaming Sahara-like temperatures, the chilly air had me buttoning up my jacket. Eyes heavy with sleep, I followed a group of people to a waiting bus where our guide outlined our plan for the day. We were driving directly to Karnak to avoid the hordes of tourists who were surely still drinking their first cup of morning coffee. I was quite unprepared for what I was about to see. Who was Amun for whom the great temples of Karnak and Luxor were built? In the Ban region where the veneration of Amun thrives, the locals refer to him as “The Unknowable Lord” because he represented the hidden life force of the universe. Amun rose in stature to king of the gods when he was later associated with Re, the sun god, for which he was accorded the name Amun-Re. When Amun-Re’s

Italian Riviera by Mario Borgoni* Memories of my first visit to Portofino linger like a favorite scent. We were driving from the south of France and across the border to Italy, ducking in and out of tunnels which stretches on for miles, when we got stuck inside one due to an accident that snarled traffic  along the coast of Genoa. It was a big relief when the line of cars finally started moving and we could breathe fresh air again. Today it’s different. I’m taking a public bus for the short ride to Portofino from Santa Margherita Ligure. Along the way, the driver honks the horn just before a blind curve and he repeats this at every bend to warn oncoming cars of our approach. It’s important that he sounds the horn often on these hairpin turns so drivers can stick to their side of this pencil-thin road. After the driver deposits us behind the Piazetta, I walk to the dock to get a good view of the sheltered cove. It is as I remember it. Waterfront cafés and restaurants, boats bobbing in t

We are in Rome because of my mother's long standing dream to see the Pope. Her parish priest has arranged for us to attend an audience with John Paul II. We pick up our tickets at the North American College near the Trevi Fountain on  Tuesday afternoon for the papal audience the following day at which approximately 15,000 people are expected. On Wednesday morning, we get up early and dress in our Sunday best. There are people already queued up to enter the temporarily enclosed square when we arrive at St. Peter's. We have to pass through a detector machine since the current pope was the target of an assassination attempt. It's early so we find good seats and while waiting, we let our eyes roam and admire the beautiful colonnades by Bernini, the dome of St. Peter's originally designed by Michaelangelo and the Swiss Guards in their striped uniform and beret. Gian Lorenzo Bernini's symmetrical colonnades consists of four rows of 300 Doric columns. Built during the papa

Horseshoe Falls* As luck would have it, it was raining all the way from Toronto to Niagara-on-the-Lake. Heavy rains and strong winds bent my umbrella out of shape as we stopped to enjoy some of the many attractions, leaving me drenched but exhilarated by the beauty of the region. Niagara-on-the-Lake is situated on the mouth of Niagara River as it rambles on its way to Lake Ontario. The temperate climate and soil condition have given birth to a thriving wine industry. This is how we found ourselves in a wine cellar being educated in the fine art of wine tasting. Following the example of our guide, we raised our wine glasses, peered through the crystal to check for color and clarity, gently swirled the goblet to let the wine breath, brought the glass to the tips of our noses to inhale the bouquet of the wine before finally sipping it, tossing it around in our palates as we savored its body. Last but not least, we were told to spit out the wine (for which spittoons were provided), but I o

Batu Bolong As our Combi van coughed its way up to Kintamani on the northern side of the island, the sky suddenly gave way to torrential rain quickly inundating the narrow mountain road.  The Combi sputtered then died.  Our driver started and restarted the engine in vain while our guide tried to reassure us that this rain would be short-lived as they always are in this part of the world.  The heavy downpour was now threatening to carry our van downhill with it.  Speeding vehicles were passing us, splashing muddy water on our van as they sped away.  After what seemed like an eternity, the engine sprang back to life and we slowly edged our way to Penelokan for lunch and front center row view of Gunung Batur (Mt. Batur) volcano and Lake Batur.  We sat impatiently through lunch waiting for the veil of mist that shrouded the volcano to lift.  A faint hint of sunlight and we finally caught a glimpse of Mt. Batur with its perforated peak surrounded by the lush valley floor and lake. All t