Riad Dar Badra is situated in the old town, ten minutes walk from the famous Koutoubia Masque and Place Djamaa El Fna and the Souks, markets which are full ofsmall shops sitting cheek by jowl, full of hundreds of different articles, perfumes, spices, jewelry, clay pots, carpets, lamp shades, clay pots and ceramics and many more things. Haggling goes on all the time, the shopkeepers block your way, shake your hand and literally force you to enter into their small shops to have a look around. It can be a hassle if you do not have the patience. And even if you buy something, you will never know if you paid the right price or not. I bought a straw hat, the vender wanted 150DH, I offered 20DH and he accepted with such alacrity that I knew I could have paid even less. And indeed, a few hundred meters further in the market I found the same hats selling for 10DH.

We wanted to go on a day excursion to the waterfalls, the tourist office Rep wanted 300DH pp, and before I could start bargaining, he himself was willing to accept 200DH. Another thing to remember is to keep small change handy, coins of 5 &10DH, notes of 20DH. Otherwise you will get nasty surprise of not getting any change. If you have to pay 3DH for a glass of fresh orange juice in Jemma El Fna, don’t pay with a 50 or 20DH note. In Morocco there are four prices for everything, one for the locals, another for people from the north (Tangier and Casablanca since they have more money) yet another for the foreigners living in the country and non-resident Moroccans who come to visit, and the fourth for tourists. So a watermelon which may be only 0.60DH a kilo, could cost upto 2.50DH to a tourist. I bought a kilo of fresh oranges for 0.66DH a kilo for which the vender demanded 20DH a kilo. So bargain over everything, whether you want to buy or not, but not over a glass of fresh orange juice. It cost only 3DH for god sake.

For Muslims September is the holy Ramadan during which they must keep fast during the day, they have to eat before sunrise and again after sunset. Because of this the opening and closing hours of many places of interest were changed.

There is a hop on and hop off tourist bus service (130DH pp) but if you are a good walker, many places are within walking distance and you can enjoy the atmosphere of narrow streets, the Kasbah and Souks too. Or you can hire a horse carriage and do the sightseeing at a trot, observing the motorcycle and taxi drivers committing kamikaze through the chaotic city traffic or see men urinating against the city walls. Sounds and smells of El Maghreb.

In the last five-six years Marrakech has seen a remarkable urban development, modern houses outside the city walls, new shopping center on Avenue Mohammed V with the inevitable McDonalds and KFC, wide and shady Avenue Mohammed VI with four & five star hotel complexes. The city has extended a lot with the affluence of tourist revenues.

Tomorrow I am leaving for Mexico with my son Alex, so I will continue writing from there about Marrakech and Essaouira which we also visited.

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The flight cost nothing but the taxes, luggage charges, credit card fee (20 euro for each person using the same credit card at the same time. Daylight robbery) came to 104.00 euro return. Although we lived in Malaga (Spain) for more than 20 years and Morrocco was just a hop over the water, my wife never wanted to visit it. She has something against the Muslim countries. But this time she was willing to go. The reason was warm weather and some rest, she read and re-read other bloggers' views and was satisfied that it will be alright to go. So we went and enjoyed it thoroughly.

The flight from Dusseldorf took three and half hours, with two hour difference in time, we were there in late afternoon (17 hrs local time) in bright sunshine, hot and dry, which lifted our sagging spirits. The airport is new, small but clean and we went through immigration without any hassle. The old city centre is barely ten minutes drive by car and we were dropped at the door of the Riad (hostel) Dar Badra by 17.30hrs. We had booked accomodation in this Riad on the internet, it had very favourable reviews by visitors who had stayed there. The rate for a double room en-suite was 35 euro per night (breakfast included) and it consisted of a sitting area, another room with a double bed and seperate bathroom. A very well decorated clean room. We stayed there three days.

On our arrival, we were greeted by the owner Dominique, an engaging & charming french woman who has been living there for more than five years. She speaks English and her maid Fatima speaks Spanish. Dominique welcomed us and we sat down in the inner patio and Fatima brought us hot mint tea, typical Morracan drink. Aromatic and refreshing. My wife has an affinity with strangers and in no time, all three women were engaged in friendly talk as if they already knew each other.

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We went to Spain and reached Santiago, which is a fabulous city, we enjoyed the food and wine on the way, but the journey was not fulfilling. Hundreds of books have been written about Apostel Santiago, many persons have written about their experiences en route to reach this holy place but we did not feel the same thrill. What we saw was the greed, selfishness, even arrogance of fellow travellers. They lacked the spirit of pilgrimage and humbleness, they were ordinary people, French (most) Italians (many), Germans (many) and some Americans, all for one reason or other, were on the road to Santiago. In one Alberge some one had written in Spanish an apt description of the fellow travellers:"hay mas gilipollas que peregrinos en El Camio".

I will write about our journey but at some other time. I will write about the wonderful places, the sights and sounds of rural Spain, a country I love.

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The city of Pamplona was founded by the Roman General Pompey in 74 BC and although the Pilgrims' Way to Santiago in Navarre begins on the slopes of Pyrenean mountains at Luzaide/Valcarlos and reaches Orreaga/Roncesvalles, (which is, because of its mountainous rough and rocky way, one of the most difficult parts of the pilgrimage and many pilgrims who start there develop foot problems) it has become the starting point for thousands of pilgrims and is the most popular route. This is known as the French Route, the most important because of the number of pilgrims passing through it, crossing the region diagonally, passing Pamplona and exiting at Viana towards Logroño in the region of Rioja.

Our hostel in Pamplona was in the center of the city, we just went down the street and reached the Town Hall and Government office building and be in the Plaza del Cassstillo. The plaza is full of terraces and bars and cafes, from which the city's daily life can be observed. The neighbouring streets of San Nicolas, Estafeta and Calle Comida are full of typical Tapa Bars where you can have a variety of tapas and a selection of best Navarre wines and cold Cider, which is a popular drink.

We rested in our hostel room until 11.00am. Simply could not sleep, so we got ready to visit the city. The morning was cool and although it had stopped raining steadily, it was still drizilling and the city looked washed and quiet. There was not much traffic and we strolled down to have breakfast and to visit the city's historical monuments. The city of Pamplona is small but is full of plazas and parks, churches and the world famous annual San Fermin festival which starts from 6th July and lasts nine days, full of frollicking and singing and dancing in the streets, drinking wine and eating regional food and generally enjoying oneself. We had bocadillos de jamon cerrano, chorizo and tortilla de patatas, cool red wine and delicious coffee. In another bar a little later, we had cod crockets and fish stuffed with mushrooms, green pimiento and bechamel. Delicious.

As I said before, Pamplona has may parks, the oldest is Taconera Park, designed in 7th century, full of wide pedestrian paths and sculptures. The Town Hall is an outstanding building, its facade of Baroque architecture of XVIII century as are the Palacio Episcopal and the Seminary of St. John the Baptist. There are many churches in and around the city and the outstanding is the Gothic Cathedral with its beautiful Cloister and its neoclassical facade. Two more Gothic churches are of St. Sernin and st. Nicolas, both built during the XIII century. and worth a visit.

We went to the Plaza de Torros (Bull Ring) and I saluted the statue of Hemingway. The Hemingway bar in front of the Ring has, since many years, a new front, and a shinning metal door. The bar was closed, so I do not know if it still kept the empty wine barrels as tables on which were piled ceramic jugs of wine and tasty tapas by the waiters and the customers just went on eating and drinking. As many of you must know, Hemingway had a long love affair with Spain and Pamplona was one of his favorite cities. Papa Ernesto is well remebered for his drinking orgies, long and winding talks about bulls and bull fighters and he even wrote two novels about them. "Death in the Afternoon" and "Fiesta: The Sun also rises", powerful and intense novels about the society attached to the Corridas de Torros.

We also had a very intense and pleasant day in Pamplona and in the evening, tired but content, returned to our hostel and rest and sleep and be ready to start early our walk towards Santiago de Compstela.

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our train to Pamplona left Barcelona at eleven O'clock in the night and we reached our destination at five O'clock in the morning. We had booked our train tickets on the internet and could find only sitting accomodation. However, to our amazement, the whole train was empty, as was our compartment. So we took off our boots and stretched out on the seats. We could see through the window, the rain falling in sheets and it rained the whole night and the next morning when we reached Pamplona.

In the next carriage, there were only three african men travelling, one of them was wearing trousers and a shirt, and a metal crown on his head. I found this so funny that I asked him if I could their photo, but he declined. I have met many africans, known some of them personally. In Spain, in England and France, in Morocco and even in Germany and Holland I have seen them in their traditional dress. However, I had never seen one wearing trousers and shirt and a crown on his head, in a train in Spain, in the dead of the night.

Since we arrived so early in the morning, there was no chance of going to an albergue as they do not open before 11-12 O'clock, so we took a taxi (4 euro) and the taxi driver dropped us in the centre of the city at a hostal (45 euro for double bed). We switched on the TV and were dismayed to hear the news that during the night, it had rained heavely in Barcelona and in parts of France from where we had planned to start our walk. So we decided to start the next day from Pamplona and went to bed.

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From the airport we disembarked at Sants station. Our train to Pamplona was leaving at 23.00 hrs so we had the whole day on our hands. We checked our packs in the locker and took the Metro to Plaza Cataluña, the centre of the city and its famours Rambla de Flores. The Rambla has always been known for its stalls of Flowers and sellers of Birds in Cages, its Cafes, Tapa Bars and Rrestaurants and thousands of people promenading from one end to the other. However, I was dismayed to see very few stalls, the old and popular Cafes were replaced by Fast Food chains and Brand Name shops and Boutiques. Wherever you go, MacDonalds, KFC, Subway and Starbucks stare you in the face.

Another change was to see South Americans running bars. People from Uruguay, Argentina and other countries have settled in large numbers in Spain and it was not the same eating Spanish Tapas in these places. In fact we found only one typical Tapa Bar selling Galician tapas (Pinchos on a toothpick), in one of the side streets. But the city was full with tourists, young and old and streets were bustling with people in the heady atmosphere Barcelona has. In fact whole Spain is bustling with tourists and visitors. We had a coffee, a beer and three tapas and paid 20 euros. Expensive, and were further surprised at the high prices of food, when we started walking from Pamplona toward Santiago de Compostela.

I will write about Barcelona and its many attractions, at the end of my chronicle of our journey, when we stayed there for three days, on our return from Santiago, and before our flight back to Germany.

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It is our aim to walk a distance of at least 200 kms, weather permitting. We are very excited about our journey and have read about and talked to people who have done the same journey. Every body tells us that this will be an unforgettable experience of our life.

We have traveled in Spain but never on foot, although we lived in Malaga for twenty years and for two years were living in Seville (Sevilla) and always talked about doing this pilgrimage, some how we never did it.

Every year there is a festival in honor of Virgin del Rocio in the province of Huelva but we never went there either. This festival is one of the biggest and most popular where more than one million people converge. Devotees from all over Spain and specially from Andalusia take part in the festivities.

The festival lasts for three days and is full of emotional devotion, religious ardor in a festive atmosphere. The visitors have a chance of enjoying the wine and typical Andalusian Tapas, listen to Flaminco and others songs in praise of the Virgin del Rocio. People come on horse back, in bullock carts and on foot, bearing the summer heat. The distance from Huelva to the Church of the virgin del Rocio is about eleven kms, and after the three days' ceremony, a typical country banquet of food (Comida Compestre) is offered to the visitors. It is an unforgeable experience.

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Late that evening, after we had a delicious dinner of CousCous and lamb curry, hummus and kebabs, Nan bread with Harisa (chilli paste), olives and Dates, drank many glasses of hot fresh mint tea, we met a Veterinary doctor and a man called Moussa. I do not remember if his name was Ahmed or Mohamed, every body called him Moussa. He was a Tuareg, originally from Mali but was settled in Morocco and knew everything about camels and their transportation. He was a tall and thin man, with a narrow pointed nose, deep set eyes and a cruel mouth, I remember it well. With his white robe and a long blue tunic on top, with a white turban on his head, he looked clumsy.

When I was young, I had read many books about adventures of soldiers of fortune, convicts and con men, who had joined the Foreign Legions to seek fame and fortune. When I went to live in the Canary Islands, I gave myself the nom de plume Tuareg. I was very fascinated about the stories of Tuareg warriors fighting the French colonial masters and French Foreign Legion which was garrisoned in Algeria. And their caravans journeying from Morocco to the legendary and mysterious town of Timbuktu.
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This meeting was arranged by my friend Hugo who knew many people in Marrakesh. After a long talk, much of it in Arabic which I could not understand, it was settled that Moussa will, on the next day, travel with us to a settlement on the outskirts of Marrakesh, where he had arranged for the Vet to examine the camels which were to be bought and brought to Casablanca. I promised to arrange for the payment with my businessman in the Canary Islands.

Early on the morning of the next day, we started towards the town settlement to view the camels. We were on the outskirts of the city, outside the city walls and going back towards Casablanca. The Tuareg Moussa took us to a place called Palmeraie, which we had seen while coming in to Marrakesh. Moussa told us that this place was the original settlement of the city, where there were more than 140,000 Date Palm trees and with a large Oasis. He told us that there was a legend that at night, Yusef Ben Tashfin, the founder of Marrakesh and his warriors, used to rest in this Oasis which was not populated with many palm trees. But the warriors used to eat the dates which they brought from other oasis's and they would dig holes in the earth with their spears and bury the date bones, which after a time germinated in Date Palm trees, thus creating the settlement with thousands of Palm trees.

Every village, town and city needs a legend, in Pune (India) there used to be a Temple of Hanuman (The Monkey God) and in its courtyard there was an ancient Banyan tree with a large girth. This tree was hundreds of years old and from its base to the top, there were literally millions of iron nails hammered in its trunk. And the tree was alive, green. The popular legend was that every night, Hanuman patrolled the city, and nailed the evil spirits to the tree trunk, which would otherwise scare the devotees of the temple.

As we neared the village, a languor settled over me, I was sweating a lot and my stomach was bothering me. Soon we reached the house of the man whom we had come to see, and before Hugo had switched off the motor, the wide metal door in the mud wall of the house opened and a swarthy Arab stepped outside, shook hands with everybody and invited us in. We entered a large cool room, more like a covered veranda, and settled down on thick carpets and pillow-cushions. Soon two young girls brought us hot mint tea, goat cheese, dates and fresh baked Nan bread.

By now I was not feeling well at all and would have declined to eat anything except to drink tea, but the Arab customs of hospitality obliged me to partake of food. The cheese was so smelly that I felt sick and ran outside in the courtyard and vomited. Our host immediately called some one and from behind the house, from another quarter, his wife and young daughter emerged, took me by the arm and led me to a tap in the corner of the yard. I wet my head and washed my face and arms, but the sweat just poured down my body and I was extremely hot, feeling feverish and uncomfortable.

Presently we left this place and after walking ten minutes, came to another large mud house. The stench of camels hovered over the place and the air was full of foul smell, which the camels emit while chewing their cud. I felt terrible and refused to enter the house. Every body else entered, and later when the Vet had inspected the camels which were for sale, the deal was struck, they came back and we started for Casablanca. The return journey was a torture and when we reached our hotel, I fell totally sick. The doctor who came to examine me told me that I had some virus in my stomach which could have been caused by drinking bad water or some bad food.

I sent a telegram to the businessman in the Canary Islands, told him to send details for finalizing the sale, and by next day had a reply in which he detailed about the shipment from Casablanca harbor. He also instructed me to buy 600 water jars to be sent to El Aaiun. I was flabbergasted. Now I told my friend Eric to take charge and with the help of Hugo to arrange for the completion of job at hand. I was feeling retched and wanted to go back to the Canary Islands.

Some time later, I learnt that camels arrived safely at their destination but all 600 water jars were broken on the way.

Marrakesh (Morocco) V remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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If a visitor bestirs himself from the mesmerizing spectacles of Djemaa El Fna, he can stroll around the Plaza in the labyrinth of Zocos (Souks). Most popular is The Semnarin, with its colors, aromas, variety of cloth and carpets on display. Or you can visit the casbah of Télouet (outside the city and 170kms) which is a very impressive Kasbah, albeit in ruins but attractive anyway and go further to visit the casbah of Ait Benhaddou, which has been perfectly conserved and is worth a visit.

Marrakesh is famous for the tombs of its kings, as is The Bedi Palace which is entirely constructed in Marble. Against the backdrop of snowy Blue Atlas Mountains are the waterfalls at Vuzoud, about 160kms from the city. And if you like the ethnic handicrafts, then a visit to Chichaova Coop Society is worth the trouble. There you will see the making of carpets with typical Berber designs and basic colours of red. The carpets are called Chichaova, which has given the name to the society of artisans.

My favorite museum is Dar Si Saíd, which is housed in a beautiful building of 19th Century, and has an important collection of Moroccan art, a colorful display of female attire, ceramics, carpets, Berber jewelry and articles of adornment. Its carved wooden doors with beautiful Ablutions of 10th century, etched in Spain on one single slab of marble. There are more than 200 Mesquites (Masques) with the beautiful designs and ceramics and etchings of typical Arab artisan work, all worth seeing. Moors conquered Spain in 9th century and their cultural heritage, Art, their buildings have left an everlasting impression in many regions of Spain, specially in Andalusia (Al-Andalus).

My favorite place in the evenings, whenever I visited Marrakesh, was the Casino at La Mamounia. I knew the Director of that time and went there almost every evening, together with some Indian business men, to drink whiskey and soda and gamble. Black Jack, Open Poker and English Roulette (One Zero).were popular games and every evening you saw rich and famous local dignitaries and Europeans playing there.

Moroccans are friendly people and once you knew them well, their hospitality knows no bounds. I made many influential friends in Tangier, Casablanca and Marrakesh where late in the night, whether we won or lost on the gaming tables, when we had a good amount of whiskey and had deliciously satisfying food, we would head towards a Cabaret. As I remember, La Mamounia also had a Cabaret, but now, after a lapse of so many years, I can not remember well.

That evening while playing Roulette, I made the acquaintance of yet another Italian business man, who was living in Paris but had come down to Marrakesh to play the tables. He usually went to Nice to play roulette because only there you could play American Roulette (with two zeros) which was lucky for him. Two zeros were lucky for me too, so we made a promise to sometime visit Nice together. I had been lucky at roulette, once in Gibraltar, at the newly opened Rock Hotel Casino, I had won, at one sitting, Five Hundred sterling Pounds. Quiet a sum in those heady days of 1960s.

Marrakesh (Morocco) IV remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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"Do you think that your businessman friend really means to transport camels by boat to Sahara?"

We were traveling by plane from Las Palmas to Casablanca and my friend Erick asked me this question.
Erick was Swiss, I have long since forgotten how I met him, but he became a friend and after some years he disappeared from my life. A very talkative guy, chain smoker like me, with a liking for free drink, he was a jolly companion. He knew many people in Las Palmas but was averse to working and was not interested in doing anything. We went fishing together, went to the island of Fuerteventura a few times, fishing and staying on the beach for a few days. It was him who knew the Canadian woman who had in 1967 bought a major chunk of beach front land at Jandia Playa (Beach) at a very cheap price and was selling one square meter for BP 1.00 (equivalent to 70 pesetas at that time).

I had sold many parcels of 5000sqm land to my friends and business acquaintances and sold even in Canada where I went in 1970. And now we were traveling together to Casablanca. I had phoned a friend of mine there, an Italian Jew who had lived in Morocco for many years and was in advertising and Insurance business and had very good contacts. I had explained to him our mission and he, without any comment, had promised to do what he could.

We landed in Casablanca late in the evening and there was a chill in the air but the change in the surroundings was remarkable. We took a taxi and went to a small hotel in the center, near the Hotel
Atlantique, where I used to stay during my visits there. A friendly and clean place run by an Spanish couple.

Casablanca was not the modern city with new buildings and mosques it is today, it was a chaotic city with buildings in need of repair, its boulevards and streets clogged with traffic and fumes of ancient motor vehicles. The city has always been influenced by French culture and architecture, with a hangover of a decadent Metropolis mixed with the authentic Arab ambiance. The white colonial buildings, impressive iron grilled doors on their facades, all have the unmissable Arab-Andalusian influence. You will hear more French than local language in the shops and streets.

Casa Branca (Casablanca because of its white colored buildings) as the Portuguese called it, was a city in which Berbers had settled as early as 9th Century when the influence of Islam was growing in Spain and in Europe. Berbers were against the Mohammedan religion, but by 14th century the whole region had become a haven for pirates who were attacking the Portuguese ships. So in 15th century Portuguese assaulted the city and named it Casa Branca and stationed a military garrison to protect their shipping lines. The rest is history, the French colonial rule in Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia and French influence in architecture, language and customs.

The daily life in Casablanca was and is even today, in and around its Central Market where you could buy fresh fruit and vegetables, live chickens and goats. The Souks were always full of pedestrians, buying clothes, spices and articles of art, and you would find every imaginable thing there. Streets full of shops, men dying cotton cloth and tanners in leather trousers, with naked torsos tanning leather, its overpowering stench assaulting your senses, the heat, the din of hammering on brass and ironware blasting your ears, shopkeepers shouting and pulling you to have a look at their carpets spread out in front. A total bedlam but so romantic, women in burkas covered from head to foot, young girls with blond hair and short skirts and blouses, men with long djellabas and others in western attire mingling freely in the streets.

The old city of Casablanca was located just off the town square, near the Medina, the main commercial centre, a lybrinth of narrow and dirty streets, near the sea and where many streets meet. During the daytime it was full of people, its bars and cafes full of men drinking mint tea and smoking water pipe, the hub con constant conversation reaching you as you passed, but in the evenings and specially at night, it was not considered safe to venture there. In hotels, bars and on the streets, you would find prostitutes and their pimps lounging in wait for their trade.
Morocco is El Maghreb and you may not find the salve girls, harems and houris of Arabian Nights there, but there is no derth of their cousins plying their trade at all hours of the day and night.

On the next day I phoned my good Jewish friend Hugo and set up an appointment to meet him at a restaurant near the Central Market, where they served delicious lamb cutlets and cuss cuss and cold local beer.

Casablanca (El Maroc) Morocco. II remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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In the year 1966 I left my job in Las Palmas and started my own business. But the wanderlust in my veins was very strong and I traveled for some months in Europe, visiting France, Italy, Austria, Germany, Holland and the U.K. I can safely say, without any false vanity, that until now I have not found a refuge in my life.

Around 1966 I came to know a business man who had recently settled in Las Palmas. He came from a country neighboring Spain. He rented a shop in the main business center, paid a hefty premium in cash, thus spreading the rumor that he was loaded.

At that time there was not much business with El Aaiuñ, the Capital city of Sub-Sahara which was under
Spanish control. General Franco was still alive and Spanish foreign Legion was stationed there. But the trade was growing and it was not infrequent to see men in long robes, heads covered with turbans and indeed Tuareg with their blue and white gowns, heads and faces covered, drinking tea in the shops and doing large purchases. At that time if a businessman wanted to visit El Aaiuñ, which was seldom and required a good reason, needed a special permit from Madrid. There was only one flight a week, going and coming back the very same day.

This business man was the first to increase trade with sub-Saharan market and had, without the general knowledge of many, opened a Cabaret in El Aaiuñ. A very strange and puzzling prospect indeed. One day I was sitting with him in his office (my office was in front on the other side of the street) and he casually asked me if I knew some one who would be interested in making some money, transporting some stuff to the sub-Saharan Capital.

I told him that indeed I knew such a person, and if he could give me some more details about this deal, I will talk to that person. He however, asked me to bring that person along and he will tell us both about the trip. So I spoke with this man, who was a friend, unemployed, married with a small child and I thought reasonably that he would be indeed interested. So one day soon after that we gathered in my office and over whiskey & soda, the businessman unraveled his proposal.

He told us that he had charted a boat in Casablanca to transport camels to Al Aaiuñ and he needed some person whom he could trust, to go along with the cargo. That he had persons of confidence who will take delivery. That he will pay good lump sum money for the trip. Now this friend of mine did not know any body in Casablanca and nothing at all about buying camels in Morocco. So we all had a good laugh and had some more whiskey and asked him as to who was going to procure the camels and why go to such lengths when camels could be bought somewhere in the Canary Islands and it was just a hop from Las Palmas to El Aaiuñ. He told us that he needed 48 camels and such number was not readily available in the islands, moreover they would come from Morocco anyway. As to who was going to buy the camels, would I be interested to go along and find some one whom I knew well to buy the camels? So we had some more laughs and splashed some more whiskey & soda in the glasses. It is not every day that such an offer comes along. Had he asked me to ride a camel caravan laden with salt to sell in Timbuktu, I would have jumped at the very idea. My heart missed a few beats.

Morocco to El Aaiuñ (Sub-Sahara) I remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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St. Blaise, Biagio or San Blas (as he is known) was the physician Bishop of Sebaste in Armenia who lived (c316) in a cave on Mount Argeus. He was the healer of men and animals and according to legend, sick animals would come on their own to his cave, to be cured.

Armenians are Christians and were persecuted even in the Roman times. There is still a huge controversory in Turkey about the Ottomans' genocide of Armenian christians before and after the First World War. In Roman times, Gnaueus Julius agricola, the Roman General and politician, who was the governor of Cappadocia, came to Sebasste to persecute Christians.

Bishop Blaise was arrested and Agricola tried to force him to renouce his faith and accept Roman Gods. On his refusal, Bishop Blaise was thrown into a lake to drown but he survived, standing upon the surface of the water and challanged his Roman persecuters to do the same, to prove that their Gods were as powerful as his own. Naturally they drowned. So when he returned to the solid ground, he was arrested, tortured and his flesh beaten and torn with wool brushes, then beheaded. For this reason he is worshipped by the Wool Merchants in Italy and Dalmatia (Croatia) and there are churches to his name in many countries. His memorial is celebrated on 3rd of February.

The wool trade in Italy was centered in Florence (Fiorenza! the City of Flowers) which was the capital of Tuscany) and employed thousands of workers. Although other industries like making of wine etc developed later, wool trade was the main industry. Merino sheep was imported from scotland and Merino wool even today is world famous for its purity.

St. Blaise in switzerland, named in honour of martyred Bishop, has a special charm. We parked our car in the almost empty parking area, there were three or four caravans standing on their parking lot and when I went to use the toilet, a man standing outside kindly told me that I could drink the water from the tap. Water was cool and refreshing.

Thus refreshed, we turned towards the lake, on our right a small semi-circle of a sandy beach, the beautiful mountains hovering overhead, beautiful houses perched on its slopes. The place had an atmosphere of complete calm and romance, which immediately put an spell on us. The morning was hot and we took off our clothes and dipped in the water with total abandon. Although we stayed on the beach for quite some time, only one solitary woman came to swim. No other bathers.

Straight ahead is the landing for boats and as we were gazing at the lake,a big boat/ferry came to the pier and some passangers got off. It was apparent that you could travel by boat to other destinations around the lake. Go visiting your friends and relatives, do some shopping.

On our left was a small harbour for boats, there were many boats berthed and people on board, some having breakfast. Every body greeted us and we returned their greetings. As if we were not visitors but well known acquintances. Where ever we went in switzerland, people in a friendly manner. Another nice and surprising thing was that we saw no nudity on the beaches, no scanty clad youngsters on any camp sites. In fact we saw no girls with a short short top or a mini skirt.

We were so enchanted with the beach, the lake and the mountains that we stayed there until late in the afternoon, and missed going up to the town center. So later we took to the road again.

But even now when I am writing about st. Blaise and remeber the mismerising effect of Bernese mountain range and the perfect soothing calm of St. Blaise, right now, I would rather be there than here in Germany.

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The lingua franca in Nauchátel is French, its architecture is French and many of its mid 17-18th century buildings are painted yellow. As are many buildings painted in Andalusia (Spain) and in some Mediterranean towns and sea side villages in Italy. The ambiance is also Gallic, the place was full of street life, crowded pavement cafes and restaurants serving good tasty food and fine French and Swiss wine. The day being hot, we sat down on the terrace of a corner cafe, had toasted sandwiches and a chilled Chateaubriand (Réserve) from Beaujolais. Then we went and had Crépe Suzette (Pan cakes to common folks) with banana and marmalade. As we would eat in Montmartre in Paris. Trés Chic.

In the after- noon I wanted to visit the Museum of Art, which I was told, has a fine collection of Mechanical Figurines. But I do not now remember, how or why, we chose to visit the mountainous town of Chaumont, which is set amongst the high peaks on an elevated area of Bernese Alps. From there we had a fantastic view of the three lakes of Switzerland, Lake Nauchátel, Murten and Lake Biel. The harbor was full of boats coming and going and the snowy edge of Bernese Alps hovering over it. A very enchanting sight it was.

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Biel is a small harbour town with a population of about 53,000 but we were told that there are more than one hundred nationalities living there. It must be the modern industries and world famous watch factories. It can not be that all those people are there for the Chess Tournament or the Wine Festival.

The Tourist brochure told us that originally the town was inhabitated by Celts and later by Romans, which means around l0th- llth Century. Biel is also famous for the Jura mountain range which seperates the Rhine and Rhone river here. The route of river Aare was redirected in Lake Biel as it was flooding the whole area. A stroll around the old city center is a thrilling experience, houses with medieval facades, streets so narrow as if they have been cut and chiseled out in between the buildings and even houses. Small town squares and peaceful atmosphere enveloped us. The day we were there in April 2006 it was a sunny and warm day, the water front cafes and bars were full. We felt as if we were in Cadiz or Huelva in Spain. It was wonderful.

In a Cafe we met two waitresses, one from Philipines and another from South America. They told us that Biel was famous for celebrating Chess Tournament (apart from making Watches). And that it was a wine making region. We had already seen the vineyards on the slopes of mountains when we were travelling but I was not aware that it was an important wine growing region. In May and in september there is wine tasting and in september a Wine Festival. If you are awine afficionado, head towards Biel. I think that summer is the best time to visit switzerland. We saw many bikers who had come on bicycles from Bern and mountain hikes is a popular way of visiting the place.

After staying in the town we headed towards the Lake. The first sight which caught our attention was the views of St. Peter's Island. The whole region has wild and dense mountains on both sides and we could see typical country houses perched upon hills in remote and deep valleys. We were wondering how the inhabitants came down to the town from such heights. And how it would be in winter, deep snow covering every gorge and every path. But I would not mind living in such remote places, I am a loner and solitute does not haunt me.

Lake Biel is a beautiful eyefull, boats and ships were coming and going, there are guided tours of the connecting lakes but the prices were not cheap. We also saw boats berthed on the pier with restaurants on open decks. So we took off our clothes and put on swimming costumes and sat down on the rocks to take sun and feast our eyes on the beautiful lake and the mountain range stretching all the way out.

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In Zurich there are Churrascarias, in Antwerp are Argentinian Grill Restaurants. In Spain they are called Asaderos and are very popular places to eat beef or pork steaks, spare ribs and Chuletones ( cutlets). In many towns, there are restaurants in the slaughter- houses (mataderos) where they serve fresh grilled bull meat and specially in the Bull Fighting Season, demand for meat from bulls killed in the corrida, are much in demand. The meat is slightly darker but very tender and considered to give you strength. In Morrocco in many restaurants whole skinned, stuffed goats are grilled in deep earthen ovens. It takes about four hours to grill the meat, which is then cut into pieces and served with rice and nan bread.

When I was young and living in Spain, for many years I went to Pamplona in the province of Navarra (north Spain) to participate in the Corridas celebrated every year. Outside the city and up in the hills there used to be a restaurant serving fresh meat of the bulls killed in the corridas. The place had a thatched roof and the interior and the ceiling of the house was full of vines. A big log fire was burning and over it were hung large slabs of meat. We barely sat down on low round tables than small tumblers (jaras) of wine were placed, together with fresh warm bread and olives. Small cups of onion soup were served and it broke the ice and you felt welcomed. Then you ordered the size and the side of meat you wanted and it was cut from the slabs and thrown on the sizzling fire. I have never forgotten the food we used to eat there. Some times I went there in winter and the first thing I would do was to meet my friends, have a Tinto or a Pintado ( red wine or red & white mixed) in a bar in the city, have a few tapas and then go to this restaurant. In the evenings it was nice to sit in its warm and cozy atmosphere, a roaring fire in front, drinking Vino de Navarra and eating fresh bread with olives and savor the smell of grilling meat and getting hungry until the food was placed on the table.

Pamplona is famous for its cheese & ham and fish croquates and ice cream and if you ever head towards Navarra, do visit Pamplona. It is a treat of a place.

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It was almost five O'clock in the evening and although we each have had a bread roll at noon, we were hungry so we asked the girls if they could recommend a restaurant where we could have some ethnic food. They told us to go to Aussersihl. Now this area, which in the old times was a working class residential district and now transformed into ethnic restaurants. May be we should have taken a trolly, however after 15-20 minutes walking, we finally reached the area which also consisted of inter-twining streets. In one street there was a Lebanese restaurant with a menu board sitting outside the door, announcing full buffet for CHF25.OO. We entered inside and on a small table were laid out a platter of humus which was dry, a covered metal dish contained grilled meat which had seen better days, rice and tabouli salad. No pitta bread, no olives and no fresh tomatoes. There were no other customers. We walked out.

Walking around we saw a Brazilian Churrascaria (Wood or charcoal grill on which large chunks of meat are grilled). But the place was closed and now we were quite hungry. Then we found Emilio's, an Spanish restaurant,
and sat down weary and hungry. It was nice to speak Spanish and it brought better service too. Spanish food, I have found out, you should eat in Spain. Whether it is Paella Valenciana, Fabada Asturians, Pulpo Gallego (Galician Octopus)marisco (seafood) it never tastes the same in cold climates. However Paella with shrimps and baby clamps was not bad, fried chicken in gravy was also alright but the house wine was nothing to write about.

The day had gone by and we could not decide whether to stay overnight and take a boat cruise the next morning and explore the city further. So we said to ourselves, we will surely come back to Zurick. It is only about 50 kms. from Basel. so we went to the garage, picked up the car and headed back to Basel.

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Zurich was founded in 15BC ( I think) by Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, a Roman General and later a minister in the reign of Caeser Augustus. He won the famour sea battle with Marcus Antonius and Cleopatra and brought Gaul, Belgium and Germany under Roman rule. And Turicum, in the swiss Alps, was a garrison town and Customs Post for merchandise entering Gaul (province of France) and Germany. Zurich was founded on the ruins of Turicum. So the city has Lake Zurich on its northern side and river Limmat flows from it through the old city to the south, with elegant shopping centers, old winding streets full of boutiques, art & Craft shops, bars and restaurants. You can easily pass the whole day walking, as we did, going from one place to another.

The morning of our arrival in Zurich was a sunny day, although it had rained when we left Basel and we were worried that parking may be a problem in the center of Zurich. However, we saw so many parking places that we decided to drive right upto the center of the city and easily found a parking garage. When we emerged on the pavement, we saw a large plaza full of people and there was a street market in full swing. So for more than an hour we strolled around, browsing and admiring articles on sale. "One man's junk is another man's treasure" so goes the saying and I also bought a copper jug for CHF 10.OO (a goog buy) and two flower vases for CHF 15.OO. I told the lady that I had no more money and she told me that she could not accept as she was just looking after the stall. So we started chatting and she told me that she was a Dietrician and she very kindly told us about places of interest. I got the vases for CHF15.oo anyway.

The best way to visit the city is by Trolly Bus or by bicycle, which we found out later, were rented free. But we decided to walk and it was a marvalous experience. The Old City is surrounded by river Limmat, from Quai-brueke (Bridge) you have a wonderful view of the city on both sides, the river rolling out in a great arc, excursion boats going to and fro, wide pavements to walk on. If you stand on Quai-Brucke, on the right hand side you can walk to Rathaus (Town Hall) passing Limmatquai. Before you reach the Town Hall, you can see Grossmuenster (The big Church) and on the west bank Fraumuenster and Paradeplatz.

From Rathausbrueke you have the wide open plaza with shops and restaurants and on a sunny day like we were lucky to have, you can sit on the terrace of a Cafe and watch the people go by. At Lindenhof (backyard full of Linden trees) is a beatiful park, from its high ground you can see the panorama of the city with the canals running on both sides of the bridge. Lindenhof is the site of ancient Roman Customs Post.

Zurich The Gateway To Alps remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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In Switzerland the traffic laws are very strict, heavy fines are imposed if you drive over the speed limit. Once for driving four kilometers over the speed limit, we were fined CHF11.00 and again for going 13 kilometers over the limit, the fine was CHF 185. The Traffic department took us for rich Swiss living on other people's bank accounts. So please beware. In Switzerland every body has a big automobile, most of the time you have to drive under 100kms per hour so I do not understand why people drive bigger and expensive cars. It must be the other peoples' money locked behind steel bank vaults which has enriched the country folk. I must say that gasoline also was cheaper, CHF1.16 per liter.

The scenery in Switzerland is breathtaking, while you drive along, the enchanting mountains, beautiful houses sitting on mountain tops, scattered here and there with long stretches of lush green in between, awakens the longing to be away from the clutter of cities, parking problems, noise and pollution. We city folk yearn for the quiet and solitude of the country side and slopping mountains. And Switzerland is just that.

We entered Bern from the east side and after more than half an hour of trying to find parking, we came over the bridge and were lucky to find a place right there, the fast flowing river Arre under us. On the left side of the bridge we saw a crowd of people and nearing the end of the road, saw a Bear Pit (Baerengraben) a large sunken arena with four or five shaggy brown bears. Bears are the symbol of Bern but the bears there looked forlorn and weary. I have posted some photos of bears on my Photo Gallery. But behind the Baerengraben, on the left side, if you go up the steep hill, you will reach the Rosen garten (The Rose Garden) with an enchanting collection of flowers and fantastic view of the town of Bern. Also at the back of the Bear Pit is a path leading to the wooded area where a small river runs through. An ideal place for spending an hour.

Bern is the capital city of Switzerland, my first impression of the city was of an Eagle jammed in a Canary bird's cage. It lies in the bend of the river and the view of the wooded hills and majestic Alps gives it a sense of quiet and peace. Although the city center was crowded with visitors, its cobbled streets and small lanes full of charming shops and restaurants, it gave a sensation of a monastery full of silent monks going about their daily chores. As if the hustle and bustle had nothing to do with it.

The old town center is wide, full of cobbled streets which run on both sides of the Marktgasse and the day we were there, some enterprising people had set up a charcoal grill in the street, selling Bratwurst with bread bun and a bottle of soft drink or mineral water for CHF 1.00. What a welcome idea and profitable too. We just sat down on the side of the arcade and had two helpings each. The road extends into lanes, old buildings with baroque arcades and many fountains. In Kramgasse there is an statue of an armoured bear holding the Standard of the city's founder Berchtold von Zaehringen. At the end of the street is a statue of Samson, a fountain and large figures on pedestals, which portray the city's guilds of various crafts. We tried to find out from the tourist office the year in which the city was founded but were given a tourist information leaflet instead. But I from a bookseller and gathered that the year may have been some where in the 11th century.

In Kramgasse is the house where Albert Einstein lived and worked on his theory of Relativity. He had studied at the University of Zürich. In one of the streets is the church of St. Peter & St. Paul, a Gothic building with a cool hermit like interior. From Postgasse (street) we went down to the old part of the city, window shopping, looking at the shops selling antique books and other crafts.

You can view the old medieval buildings clustered around the slopes of the river, all the main streets of the city meet at Nydeggbrueck where you can see Nydeggkirche (Church). Go down the steps leading to the riverside and you have a full view of the houses clustered on both sides of the river. ( I have posted some photos of the river and houses around it). The oldest part of the city is Matte, which for many centuries was the center of crafts made in the city. The streets and lanes are full of art centers. There were a few places where music is played, but they were closed. May be they opened in the evenings.

Bern is one of my favorite cities, its old cobbled streets, painters selling their paintings under the arcades, busy cafes and restaurants, shops selling arts and crafts with the exuberance of a big city, but at the same time exuding the timeless peace and quite of the Alps which have the city of Bern in a valley like atmosphere lying in the bend of fast flowing river Arre, like an impatient bride in a hurry to be with her lover.

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On the German border is the city of Freiburg im Breisgau, the capital of Black Forest. On the french border is the city of Mulhouse. Its railway is a gateway for trains from Paris, Brussels, Frankfurt and other european cities. There are easy connections with other major swiss cities too. The main city railway station is a hub of passenger activity and you can easily pass a few hours just watching the people, eating a snack or drinking a beer or a coffee. The prices though are high. A toasted sandwitch costs SF5.00.

My first impression of Basel was of a city in dismal state, East London in l960s. Derelict buildings which I thought were vacant, were occupied, roads in perpetual state of repair and traffic clogged motorway which leads you to the city center. Basel may be the wealthiest city in Switzerland but its residents go to France for their shopping in the supermarkets and to German towns for shopping for clothes and shoes etc. Switzerland is a very expensive country and Basel no less. A Bratwurst costs 1.50 Euro in Germany and in Basel 3.00 euros (CHF5.00). 100gms roasted chestnuts cost CHF2.00. The prices are double that in Germany and France. A cup of coffee CHF3.50 and in France and Germany CHF 1.50. When I was there we also went to Loerrach, the border town with Germany and to France for shopping. Swiss customs are sticklers for detail, one person is allowed to bring in only one kilo of meat, three litres of milk and so on, in the country.

But Basel is a quiet city, its tram network is perfect for going places and it is an efficient way of transport. In the city center is the Town Hall, renovated and quite popular, there is a daily fruit and vegetable market but there is not much variety of anything. But around the city hall are bars and restaurants and the majestic river Rhine which divides the city in two. From the Town Hall you walk a few hundred meters and are on the bridge leading to the commercial streets of the city.

The main attraction of the city is Barfuesserplatz (bare feet plaza), a hectic place and the Barfusskirsch (Church), which has been converted into a historical museum of Basel's pre-eminence of times bygone. What I liked most was the winding, steep streets full of small ethnic shops selling arts and crafts, jewelery and rugs, from India, Nepal, Tibet, Greece and many other places. We found a Spanish Tapa Bar but just looking at its menu and prices was enough to turn us away.

The old streets have names like Saddle Street, Tailor Street, Fish Market street etc. Just like in London, Brick Lane, Thread Needle Street, or in Spain where old streets were named Calle Camas (Beds) street, Calle Baños(Bath street) etc.

We first went to Basel in the summer of 2006. We traveled by road and from where we live in Germany, it is 660 km to Basel. It was not difficult to find where my son was living, it the street where the city railway station is. Mind you, the railway station for France and Germany is about 3 km away. But parking was a big problem, parking places limited for half an hour, two hours and places reserved for residents. In the night it was easy to park but before 8 0'clock in the morning ,I had to either move the car or feed the parking meter. And be on watch to move the car after two hours.

In the city center are many popular restaurants, our son took us to Papa Joe, famous for its Spare Ribs. The bar was full of young people, swinging to hard rock music. My wife and me were the only old couple and we were feeling out of place. After waiting for more than half an hour, we were given a table in a very busy restaurant. We all had Spare Ribs, the portions were large but the food was greasy and sat heavily on the stomach.It cost SF. 29.00 per plate. Next day we went to an Indian restaurant Called Bombay Restaurant. A very cosy place serving delicious food. By Swiss standards, the prices were not high, around SF30.00 per person. We went there many times during my repeated visits to Basel.

Accommodation is not cheap in Basel, shared room in YMCA was CH27.00 per bed per night. A double room (with 4 bunk beds) was CHF 75.00. There were two bed and breakfast hostels, rooms to share with 4-6 other persons was CHF.30.00 per night. But the places were untidy.

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Freiburg is known for its world famous university. But Freiburg is also known for its cherry & chocolate cakes, Kaas Patzle (noodles covered with cheese), trout and asparagus and cukoo clocks. As a young boy I had read German history and culture but when it came to knowing anything about Schwarzwald ( Black Forest), I had always imagined it to be really a black forest, dense and cold and shrouded in dank fog and rain. A place where sun's rays never penetrated the forest.

The tribes which inhibited this part of Germany, the Rhine Valley, were constantly at war with Rome and refused to accept the rule of Roman empire. Augustus, Tiberius and Claudius failed to bring the tribes under control of Rome. His brother Gaius, fatther of brutal Caligula had gained the title of Germanicus for bringing some German tribes under control but I think it was a Roman General named Varus, who had fought them before, had lost three Roman Eagles ( Heralds with Eagles embossed on banners and shields and poles) carried by Roman soldiers in war. This was a great shame for Rome as without conquering German tribes, they could not march on to England. Although two Eagles were eventually recovered by Rome, the third was lost for ever. I suspect that the Eagle on German flag is that same Eagle. I have to do some research on the subject, but this is what I remeber from my school days.

Freiburg is the capital of Black Forest, a verdant city indeed. The day we went there, it was sunny and very warm. I would say a hot day. The city was full of visitors. We came out of the railway station and crossed the road and were in the city. We bought some baguettes at the corner supermarket as we were hungry. Then we entered the city center. The street which leads to the center is long and narrow, shops and restaurants on both sides and a narrow canal "Buttergasse" running in the middle of the street. This canal, we found out later, runs through the whole city. Imagine a stream of cold clear water running through a city, a rare sight nowadays. I just slipped off my shoes and sat down with my feet in the running water. What a refreshing feeling it was, it uplifted my spirits.

As we progressed towards the center, we came to a plaza, with restaurants and people sitting in the sunshine, eating and drinking. I had the feeling I was in Malaga or in Paris on a summer's day. The place was full of teeming visitors, young and old and when we reached the center, we saw street musicians playing, a young girl painting and another juggling dumb bells in her hands. The shops were full of people and so were places selling food. A wide variety of good food on display.

We plunged in the lanes and squares of the city. We first went to the Muenster Platz and the flower and fruit market and took some photos of Muenster Cathedral. There was a marriage ceremony taking place so we went to Augustin Platz, then to Colombin Park. Every body was eating ice cream so our son took us to a restaurant which is famous for fresh fruit juices and ice cream. Next to it was a Japanese antique shop with a wonderful collection of Japanese art. Later we went back to the Muenster Platz and bought some fruit. The wedding party was still there, bride and bridegroom were on the verge of emerging outside when it started to rain. But it did not last long and things brightened up.

Freiburg being a university town, was full of students. It is full of historic monuments, museaums, plazas and streets and full of fast food shops, bars and restaurants. We found that the price of food and drink was not expensive, comparing the prices in other German cities.

From the city center you take a Tram to Guensterstal and take a Cable Car tour of the surrounding mountains and the deep valley in the middle of Schauinsland mountains. A breathtaking trip, favorite with hikers, mountain bikers and skiers in winter. We sat down on the terrace of a restaurant and I had one and then another glass of Weiss Beer, the thick dusky white beer made from wheat.

By the time we were back in the city, we were hungry and tired and our son suggested we go and eat pizza. But my wife and me were keen on eating fish, so went in a restaurant and had grilled trout and potatoe salad. Our son had noodles baked with cheese. The nearest thing to eating a pizza. Also we wanted to eat the food for which Freiburg is famous.

We liked Freiburg very much and on a later date when I visited my son in Basel, we went to this fabulous city once again. In all I have been there three times.

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My wife found an hotel offer to stay at Ramadan Inn for 50.00 euros for a double bedroom for the first night and 150.00 euros for the next night. So we booked a double room for one night and on a sunny Friday morning started by car. It being a weekend, there was not much traffic on the roads and we made it to the hotel in three hours. A part of the hotel was being renovated and we were given a very large room with a view of the street, with a large double bed. Very well decorated and comfortable room it was. Well, we parked the car in the underground hotel parking (10 euros per night) and came out of the hotel and took a trolley bus to the Central Station (1.70 euros pp).

At the entrance of the city of Antwerp, is a castle, The Steen ( The Stone in English) a small fortress, one of the earliest buildings made of stone. That is why the name The Steen. In front of this fortress was a large statue of a man with his legs spread apart. This statue of a man used to have a large Penis and infertile women of the city used to venerate the statue. However, the Jesuit priests of the time found this endowment the most offending and cut it off. That is why I believe that Religion is for Sinners.

We came out of the Central station, a grand and imposing building which reminds you of a Cathedral, its interior made of marble and with its imposing Staircase, making every visitor's arrival a grand entrance in the city. The Meir (the shopping center) starts from the station itself which goes all the way to the Groen Plaats (The Town Square). The whole street is pedestrian, no motorized traffic and it was full of people from all parts of the world. Young people from Asia, Africa and the Middle East thronged the street. The summer breeze was filled with the perfume of youth and tantalizing goods displayed in the windows of shops. The shops were full as there was Summer Sale on, goods reduced up to 40-50%. We walked on, window shopping, looking in the bakeries selling fresh bread, rolls and croissants and chocolate in the shape of Hands.

In the Town square is Brabo Fountain. The statue of Brabo was sculpted by Jef Lombeaux in 1887. The legend about Brabo says that a terrible giant called Anti goon lived on the shores of river Scheldt, the mother of the City of Antwerp. This giant demanded a toll from every sailor who crossed the river and on refusal to do so, cut off the sailor's hand. This shows you that the practice of exerting Toll is not new. Well, to continue the legend, a Roman Centurion named Brabo who was passing through the city, refused to pay the Toll and on being threatened, cut off the hand of the giant and threw it in the river. Hence the name of the city is Hand-Werpen. You will see the Hand in the shape of sweets, chocolates and even on the City Flag. Every ancient city needs a legend and the beautiful city of Antwerp deserves one too.

The Town Square in the heart of Old City is the most popular place to hang out. In summer on sweltering hot days the Square is full of tourists, visitors and students, sitting around the statue of Brabo, on the terraces of restaurants surrounding the Square, drinking cold beers, chatting, looking at the passers by and having a good time. In Belgium there are 185 different brands of beer brewed, and like Belgian chocolates, Belgian Beer is famous. In the Square there is the beautiful Cathedral of Our Lady. And the statue of Baroque Master artist Rubens, who lived there for many years.

Antwerp is full of museums, art galleries and fine old buildings. Its Latin district, Jewish district and Diamond street are world famous. The Jews who settled here in the 16th century, came from Spain and Portugal, mostly Hassidic Jews who were expelled from there and settled in Antwerp. However, even in Belgium they were persecuted and prosecuted and many of them resettled in Holland. Jews are mostly in the Diamond Trade but even today they live a very quiet life, as if they do not want to draw any attention to themselves.

For the next two days we had booked hotel room with Ibis Hotels, at the rate of 70.00 euros for a double bed. However, the hotel staff had made a mistake and booked us for the day after. So when we went there to check-in, we were told that the hotel was full and we could come the next day. But the hotel receptionist arranged that we could stay at another nearby hotel at the rate of 50.00 euros for a double bedroom. This was perfect.

It was Saturday and outside the Hotel Ibis is the Saturday Market, a must for every visitor to Antwerp. You will find a wide variety of antique goods, jewelry, ethnic clothes and wood carvings and much more.

Antwerp offers a wide range of food, the national cuisine tends to be French, but you will find many Pizza restaurants,
Argentine Grills and restaurants selling fast food. On our first day we both had pizza with soft drink and a beer and paid 9.00 euros. The owners and waiters are Italian, talkative and very friendly and the beer and soft drink was served with fresh bread, garlic butter and fresh olives. Large pizzas with salad. The Argentinian Grill served Beef Steak with baked potatoes and salad and we paid 18.00 euros for the food and drinks apart. Near the square, there used to be a small place selling hot dishes, soup etc, for 0.85 cents, this time we found the place closed. They always served fresh food and was very popular with young and old crowd.

Antwerp is the second largest container port in the world and this is thanks to river Scheldt. You can travel by boat from Holland to Antwerp and go to France and reach Paris. U.S.A. General George Patten, who liberated Belgium and Luxembourg from Nazi Germany is buried in Hamm, Luxembourg. He suffered mortal injuries in a road accident and died there.

We have planned to go to Antwerp in the month of May this year, when the weather is warmer and I can enjoy a few glasses of Effe, my favorite beer.

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History shows us that no nation has ever conquered Afghanistan. England tried three times to conquer it and was defeated. So were the Russians and now American and Nato forces are struggling to control some areas and failing drastically. U.S.A is a warmonger country, since its inception as a nation, it has been involved directly or indirectly in more than 70 conflicts around the world. But what is disturbing is that Europe is waging a war ten thousand kilometers away in a country which has not raised its finger against them. The excuse is that they want to bring democracy to the country and defeat Taliban, but people who know anything about Afghans, know that it is wishful thinking and not only Europe but even U.S.A and Britain will be defeated in the end.

My intention is not to divulge in the present crisis, the war and its aftermath, but for some time I have been thinking about the Kochi nomads who have been wandering from the plains of India to the north of Afghanistan and Central asia since centuries, carrying their trade goods and their families with them, and no country has been able to sustain them.

I think the word Kochi is the English corruption of the word Kutchi, the people who live in the north west province of Kutch in the state of Gujarat (India). Kutchi people have been traders for centuries, from the shores of Arabian Sea they established trade with East Africa in the 1600s and had trade links even with somalia.

From the desert of Thar they traveled in caravans through the north-west frontier, crossing the province of Sind (now in Pakistan) up the Khyber Pass and crossed the whole length of Afghanistan, reaching Central Asia, returning to India in summer. These people have always been wanderers, always outside the laws and recognize no borders or governments. They can be friendly if they choose but seldom are, they are fiercely protective of their women and children. Their women are totally independent and wear gypsy dresses, no head scarves and no burkas, and when they camped, they camped outside the limits of the town or city they will be passing and discouraged any stranger who was foolish enough to approach them. Even Afghani people know that any physical contact with them could be dangerous.

The U.S.A's war against Iraq destroyed the ancient civilization of a millennium and its past history and they have achieved the same in Afghanistan. The great cities of Balkh, Ghazni, Qala Bist and Bamian are destroyed by daily bombardment of American and Nato troops. The footprints on the pages of these ancient places left by Alexander the Great, conquerer of India, Darius, Genghis Khan and Tamerlane, are destroyed for ever. And the great travelers like Ibn Batuta, Hsuan Tsang and Marco Polo who wrote fascinating accounts of their travels through Central Asia, Samarkand, China and India, are destroyed by military invasion of so called civilized countries of Europe and America.

Many of you travelers might have heard about these nomads and I would like to hear from those who have been to Afghanistan recently or read about it. What has happened to these romantic wanderers of Central Asia and Afghanistan?

Afghanistan The Tortured Country remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Trafalgar square is surrounded by many famous monuments. On its left hand side is the famous st. Martin's Church and the National Gallery. This is also one of my favorite places to visit when I am in London. When I lived there, I used to go often and look at the paintings of Botticelli, Da Vinci, Rembrandt and Von Gogh. Gainsborough and so many others. When we went there, there was an exhibition of works of Velázquez. You could easily spend one whole day there. If you like to visit art Galleries of course. Then you have the famous Charing Cross station, and further down you will come to St.Paul's Cathedral. On the other side you have Soho, the strand and can go back to Shafts bury Avenue. If you go up the Charing cross Road you will see Foyles, the famous Book store.

It was getting late and we were tired, but we wanted to go to st. Paul's Cathedral. Our son instead wanted to see Buckingham Palace. So we retreated back to Piccadilly Circus and had some food and then walked down all the way to the Buck House. A long and tiring walk and by the time we reached there, it was totally dark and raining and few tourists outside the gates. We lingered there, took some obligatory photos and went walking (again) to Victoria Station. Now it was raining hard and we were cold, so we decided to go back to the hotel.

London - A Short Visit-III remains copyright of the author IsleHopper, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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