The Serengeti - Pimi campsite

"Please do not stray beyond the camp as the animals are wild"

So said a sign at the entrance to the camp. The interesting thing was that no one told the animals so they used to wander through freely at all times of the day. This gave you a true experience of being in the wild but at the same time was rather unnerving – particularly at night.

Its situated in the middle of the Serengeti in the wooded Seronera area. While there are luxury lodges dotted around the majority of accomodation is camping. Luxury tents are the prerogrative of the more expensive safari but if you take a budget one from Arusha or Nairobi – it is more then likely you will end up in a campsite like Pimi.

It backs on to the savannah and is a grassy area where tents are erected near a cookhouse and ‘dining cage’. The toilet/shower block was forty feet away across a section of scrubland – a nervewracking excursion in the middle of the night. Most safari companies will provide the tents and at Pimi you assemble them yourself. The cost of Pimi will be included in your safari but if you turn up independently it costs about $45 a night to pitch your tent here. Most tents face the cookhouse/’dining cage’ and back on to the savannah. Each safari generally provides their own cook and ours, Mohammad, was a little gem and he worked with the other cooks in a woodfired kitchen.

Your cook will serve your food in the ‘cage’. A croncrete area enclosed by wire. This is useful as you will find yourself the object of attention by flocks of weaverbirds and gangs of mongeese. The wire doesn’t quite protect you from the weaverbirds who squeeze through the gaps – you have to make sure any perishables are removed from the table before you move away.

The real invaders of the camp are the baboons. One lunchtime, as we were eating, one particularly large baboon walked into the middle of the camp on his knuckles. He scanned the scene as if deciding which tent to investigate and only when the cooks came out shouting and waving their hands did he leave the camp. Also later that afternoon Cape buffalo one of the most dangerous animals in Africa were grazing behind the tents. They were so near the sound of them cropping the grass travelled through the ground.

Ah, the joy of fenceless safari camps. A good feeling of being in the wild – but sometimes the wild comes a little too close.

Salvador de Bahia - Brazil with an African drumbeat

The beat of drums seems to permeate Salvador de Bahia.

It fills every corner of the old city, and every stone of Salvador seems to echo with music. The cobbled Portuguese colonial streets of Pelhurinho seem to reberverate in this city of samba,candomble, and capoeira. Its exotic feel and heritage can been seen in the Afro-Brasileiro inhabitants who were descended from West African slaves. They give the city an unbelievable energy and vitality. 

There is a fire in the blood of Salvador de Bahia. This is a city which has not yet been tamed, and any polite tourist respectability is for show. Underneath, mysterious Afro-Brasileiro currents run - Salvador is a city which moves to a different beat to the rest of Brazil.

The city is also the genesis of the nation of Brazil. The Portuguese sailed into the Baiae do Todos os Santos in 1501, and the great fort at the Farol de Barra was built in 1524. That makes it older then some European cities. It was a major trading port for the slave trade out of West Africa and with the setting up of fazendas/plantations social divisions were set. It is this poverty, especially in the last century, kept it in a sort of "preserved in aspic" state. The colonial buildings and cobbled streets of its centre, Pelhurinho, are nothing less then stunning. They have been in decreptitude for a very long time and only in the nineties did gentrification take place - Pelurinho is now listed by UNESCO in its entirety.

But this is a city for the senses. A day exploring the streets of Salvador makes for many extraordinary memories its hard to say which is the best. The pastel colours of the 18th century buildings? The sound of bossa nova coming from the election cars? The torrent of rococco gold leaf in the myriad of churches? The cobbled plunge of the Largo de Pelhurinho as it dips down to Igreja NS dos Pretos? The incessant chatter of the Baianos? Kids diving off Porto do Barra pier? The hawkers following the tour crowds?

Salvador is considered exotic even by Brazilians. It's been called the most African city outside the "dark" continent. It's a fusion of African, Latin, and Portuguese cultures that is simply intoxicating. This may be the highlight of your trip to Brazil.

The city sits high on bay's entrance on a towering granite plateau. Below it the Baiae do Todos os Santos (Bay of All Saints) stretches across for tens of miles, and is littered with over 31 islands many with magnificent beaches. Salvador sits at the tip of the bay with the city built at a right angle. Along its southern Atlantic stretch are the beaches. The most famous of these is Barra a city district which is now coming back into fashion. The beaches stretch all the way along the coast in a continuous string, all the way up to Venezuela.

Everything, however, moves towards the colonial centre of Pelhurinho. This is the most impressive part of Salvador with restaurants, nightclubs, museums and some of the best colonial churches in South America. But this is divided in two - the Cidade Alta (high city) looks down from its rocky crag on the Cidade Baixa (lower city). The lower city consists of workaday Salvador with marina's, offices and the interesting Mercado Modelo. Both sets of Salvador are connected by the busy Lacerda Elevator which only costs a few reals and ladeiras which are winding twisting streets.

Of all the airports I passed through in Brazil, by far the most impressive is the one at Salvador. It's a long way from Pelhurinho, over twenty miles, but is connected by a bus service or pre-paid taxi. The taxis can be pre-ordered in the luggage carousel area, and it costs about 57 reals to Barra/Pehurinho. Once you have been delivered to your destination, you give the driver the ticket, and he returns it to the airport to get paid. The bus is even cheaper, at 4 reals, and the advantage of this is that it will travel the ocean road in from the airport. You get a scale of Salvador's endless beaches and can hop off in Barra or Pituba or carry on to the last stop in Pelhurinho's Praca de Se.

But your main method of transportation will be the taxis. I strongly suggest these if you are moving around at night and before I arrived I heard horror stories from travellers about taking these vehicles. Imagine my surprise when I encountered nothing but honest and friendly taxi drivers. In fact, they fell over themselves for me.

Rome - the hurley burley of the Campo di Fiore

When does a market cease to be a market and become a tourist attraction?

 When does it cease to provide the day-to-day needs of the local populace and become another photo-opportunity for camera toting German/Japanese/Kiwi tourists? The answer I think is never.

A good market still attracts locals and tourists and at the Campo di Fiore the two mix in an uneasy fashion. It is without doubt one of the most interesting sights in the Centro Storico and one which is still used by local residents. They come to buy their pasta, tomatoes and fresh vegetables and as to the tourists - they don't care. What is more important - the right tortellini or an idiot pointing a Leica camera at you? I think they have got their priorities right.

The Campo di Fiore (Field of Flowers) is in the southern part of the Centro Storico. From here to the Tiber is the famous Jewish ghetto - a region of apricot houses, switchback streets and zooming vespa's. There has been a market on this sight since the 14th century and it was in this area that Lucretia Borgia was born and Caravaggio murdered his opponent after being beaten at a game of tennis.

Most famous though for the burnings of the inquisition including St Bruno who believed that philosophy was more important than Religion. The pope's wern't going to put up with that and he was burnt in the Campo. A statue marks the spot with the cowled St Bruno looking rather like 'The Emperor' in the Star Wars films.

To reach the Campo is rather tricky. The metro is a long way away - the nearest one is probably Colosseo or Barberini. The quickest approach is probably along Via Plebisito which heads west from Piazza Venezia. This Via runs all the way to the Tiber and is lined with souvenir stalls, gelatarias, theatres and fast-food emporiums. The best sight is undoubtedly the Torre Argentina (Towers of Silver)whose russet-red columns poke from the ground and are covered in feral Roman cats (I've never seen so many cats in a city as there are in Rome). Along the southside of Via Plebiscito is Via Paradiso leading into the jewish ghetto. You know you are heading in the right direction for the Campo di Fiore when the smell of parmesan cheese hits your nostrils.

This is a traditional market par excellence. Terracotta shuttered buildings overlook a cobbled Campo covered in stalls and awnings. The atmosphere is worth lapping up - smelly fishmongers with buckets of whelks, rows of tomatoes, apples and fennel, strings of pasta hanging from stalls and earthy Roman characters shouting and hollering to drum up trade. The best time to come is early in the morning when everything is fresh and the locals do their shopping. By mid-day the market is packing up to go home and everybody is heading off for lunch. The only people left in the Campo by then are the tourists.

I most really recommend the tiny family restaurants around the edge. These cater for market traders and are so reasonably priced that they are a great place to have lunch. We bagged a tortellini, mineral water and desert for about 13,000 lira and it's fun to sit outside and watch the hubbub of the market. If you want to escape the crowds then head south and west out of the Campo to the Tiber. The streets around here are so narrow and full of shuttered overhanging houses. This was the jewish ghetto in Rome and has been for 2,000 years. Why so many jews in the home of the papacy? Because they were useful and the popes milked them for taxes.

You will eventually hit the banks of the Tiber. If there is ever a river in a capital city that has been forgotten about it is the Tiber. Not as vast and expansive as the Thames, Seine or the Danube when it flows through Budapest - the Tiber sort of creeps through the city. It is immensely beautiful with high stone banks, waterweeds and drooping cypresses. It does however make a lovely walk in the sunshine. And if you head south you will hit the Isola Tiberina (Tiber island)which is covered in apartment blocks, chapels, palms and mansions (see photo). In any other city this would be a major tourist attraction. But in Rome....

Rishikesh - Vegetarian food at Chotiwalas

Part of the Indian tourists experience of coming to Rishikesh is to meet some of the Hindu gods in person.

In this Chotiwala's does not disappoint. Seated outside the restaurants on the cobbled road up to Sri Nabootha Temple is the god Durga. Or rather an actor playing the part - an overweight man wearing just a dhoti and covered from head to toe in white makeup to make him look the part. People pose for pictures with him and he acts as a fabulous advertisement for the restaurant behind him.

There are in fact two Chotiwala's restaurants side by side. Once they were one great restaurant owned by two Punjabi brothers. The two fell out and the restaurant was seperated between them. Both are excellent though the one to the right has a better reputation and the one to the left better airconditioning.

The food is simple vegetarian catering to the thousands of pilgrims who pass through Rishikesh and mainly consists of dhals, lentils, khorya paneer, thalis and chapatis. The place is very busy and the waiter service is rather erratic but this does not seem to disturb the families who pack this place out and give it it's atmosphere. The food is very cheap, not more then 20 rupees a dish and foreigners don't merit a second glance. Even if you don't want to eat their ice-cold coke's are a tonic in the Indian heat.

When you leave look out for an unexpected attack.

A man dressed as the monkey-god Hanuman lies in wait to ambush unsuspecting tourists. This tourist jumped ten foot in the air! It's quite a fright to have a 6ft man with black painted face and tail jump out of you and then leap down the lane. I must have been a very tempting target. Who can blame him?

Rio de Janeiro2 - Residencia Apartments, a bargain in Aproador

Have you ever wondered why Brazil produces such good race car drivers? Well, they alldrive like Ayton Senna...

They must start at a very young age. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, drives like the possessed as they take the corners in Rio de Janeiro. Rua Francisco Otaviano connects the two most famous beaches in Rio -- Copacabana and Ipanema -- and traffic races like the Brazilian Grand Prix to get between the two. The location in Aproador, however, is excellent, and with spectacular beaches at either end of the road, those staying at the Residencia Apartments are spoilt for choice.

Residencia Apartments are an absolute bargain. They work out at $50 a night, and for that, you get your own apartment. There is dining table, a couch of sorts, a kitchen with cutlery, and a utility room with a washing machine overlooking a shaft. The wardrobe contains a safety deposit box, and the ubiquitous cable television is at hand. Each morning, breakfast, which is included in the price, is served by a Biaiana woman in your room. She brings you bananas, coffee, cake, rolls, and orange juice. The fridge is restocked each day with fizzy orange, coke, or Brahma beer, which will, of course, be added to your bill.

To be frank, I cannot think of a better location. It is right in the middle of wealthy, fashionable Aproador, with "H Stern", the diamond jewelers, to one side. All around it are five-star, expensive Othons, Hiltons, and Meridians. This tiny gem of an apartment block is in the location of the "big boys", but at a fraction of their price. And the location was the main attraction -- right between Ipanema and Copacabana. Incidentally, this is where the main drag of Copacabana ends and where the buses turn. It is a good place to catch a bus into Centro, and seeing the buses take corners with their over-eager drivers is quite an experience. I swear, one morning I saw one bus tilt and go on two wheels.

The owner is an elderly gentleman who is exceptionally friendly and likes to practice his English. Any advice about what to take to the beaches, where to go, etc, is generously given. And the beaches are the main attraction. Wandering down Rua Francisco Otaviano are surfers clutching boards. A quick walk through the tiny park takes you to the Aproador headland, where waves crash onto the beach and rocks. The waves here are very good, and there are always heads bobbing in the surf.

This is where the beach starts its great sweep of Ipanema. Take off your shoes, let the sand between your toes, and let the cool Atlantic wash over your hot feet.

It doesn't get any better than this...

Rio de Janeiro - Cento Rio and the Rio Branco

One morning I found Margaret Thatcher''s face staring back at me from a market stall.

It was at the bookmarket on Largo di Carioca and was a biography under the title "great leaders" (stop laughing at the back...) and was amassed with hundreds of portuguese language paperbacks. Perhaps it was put there to annoy visiting Argentineans. I wouldn''t put anything past the cariocas.

But the bookmarket on Largo di Carioca is one of the hidden gems of Centro Rio. The city centre/downtown of the ''Cuidade Marvelosa'' is a really buzzing place and worth an afternoons excursion. Crowds of peope rush around it''s narrow cobbled streets and the architecture is a real mix of the old and the new. Towering skyscrapers on the Rio Branca contrast with baroque churches, portuguese colonial buildings share the same block with office''s and shopping malls in a sort of Brazilian Manhattan. But this IS Rio. A part of the working day-to-day Rio that visitors rarely see unless they make the effort to haul themselves off Copacabana beach. One must-see draw is the colonial Candalaria church which could fit in very nicely with the great baroque cathedrals of Europe.

It''s also the oldest part of this city and dates from 1527. The original Portuguese colony started in Urca in the shadow of the Sugarloaf, but was moved to the higher ground where it is today. Centro is caught between the port (which is still in use) and the mountains. To the north are some of the worst favela''s in Rio, to the west is the bohemian area of Santa Teresa, to the east Guanabara bay and to the south is the beginning of the beaches. In fact the nearest beach is Flamengo about twenty minutes walk from the centre. If you take a bus from Copacabana or Ipanema you will whoosh past this beach which is often far less crowded then it''s more famous sisters.

There are plenty of ways to get there. From Copacabana/Ipanema the best way is the bus. Buses arrive every two minutes at the bus stops along Avenida NS Copacabana and Rua Visconde Piraji and have the decal ''CENTRO'' above their windscreens. The ''Aterro'' versions are non-stop. Pay your money and sit back as it will rocket to Centro usually depositing you at Praca 15 Novembro. To catch a bus back to the Zona Sul the best place is Avenida Vargas just behind the Candalaria church, buses run as far as the Barra di Tijuca from here. But the best way to get to Centro is via the high-tech subway.Urganiania, Cinelandia and Carioca are the three subway stations in the centre and Arcoverde is the nearest subway station to the Zona Sul.

The Largo di Carioca (Carioca Square) is a good place to start and as you emerge from the subway the bookmarket is worth a ponder. There are over twenty stalls (see below photo) with a thousand paperbacks. Sandwich boardmen on stilts stride by, the crowds bustle and office workers escape it all by dipping into Carlos Menado for twenty minutes. East of here is the Rua Assembleia which takes you to the mighty Rio Branco but it is worth stepping west for a few minutes. Along Rua Chile is a giant wigwam made of glass - this is the modernist Nova Cathedral. It looks like nothing more then a giant Mayan pyramid made of shards of glass. This immense structure reaches into the air and has a base of 100ft in circumference. This is Rio''s hat-tip to the modern architecture of Oscar Niemeyer so evident in Sao Paulo and Brasilia.

Even more entertaining is the ''bondinho'' (tram-car). The terminus is on the vast concrete Praca Floriano and these battered tramcars climb Rio''s hills fifty times a day. They cost 0.50 reals to clank up to Santa Teresa and I was entertained by the boys hanging off the side. There were more people hanging off the tramcar then in the car itself. The guidebooks urge you to use caution when using the ''bondinho'' but I noticed a policeman riding with the tram and on croded days it may be advisable to sit near him. This is a Rio experience I will save when I come back to the city. Rio Branco disects Praca Floriano and heads north, this massive avenida is the equivalent of Oxford Steet or Fifth Avenue and is always bursting with people who won''t pay any attention to tourists as they rush about their business. There are plenty of vendors along Branco selling grilled meats and prawns, flowers and beachwear.

At the end of Rio Branco is a truly magnificent boulevard - the Avenida Vargas. It was named after the Brazilian dictator of the eighties but at the eastern end marooned amongst all the swirling traffic is the Igreja de Nossa Candalaria (Candalaria church). This church is an expression of baroque and one of the few remains of that age left in Rio. Open each day it is worth a wander and stepping into the nave gives that sense of awe great cathedrals have. In fact the nave was colossal and reminded me of a miniature St Peters or St Pauls complete with frescoed dome and marble column''s. Wooden pews faced a silver altar carved with marble angels. Statues adorn the side-chapels and the echo as I moved around this deserted church became obtrusive in such a cavenous space. This truly is an exceptional church and provided me with my fix of old-worlde culture in Brazil.

But there is a darker side to the church. I found out when I got home that around the back of the church was where they used to shoot street-children in the eighties. A policy formatted after complaints from tourists. We sometimes have alot to answer for.

Pushkar - circumnavigating the lake

The main lane in Pushkar is the Badi Basti.

This is exceptionally narrow and goes back to medieval times. It twists and turns filled with shopkeepers, hippies, pilgrims, donkeys, camels, beggars and pujari's. All overlooked by ornate wooden merchant havelis with wooden brackets. As you trudge through the sand-covered streets India will assault you with its camel-drovers, flies, musicans, holy cows and smell of woodsmoke. If there is a smell to India it is woodsmoke.

At the end of the Badi Basti is the Brahma Mandir. One of the few temples in India dedicated to the creator deity and a mandatory stop on the pilgrimige trail. Before you enter you have to remove your boots and leave them with the chowdikar (old man) and then you enter risking burning your feet on the hot marble. The main sanctuary is open to the air and surrounded on all sides by shrines. An orange tower soars above the temple and a bright blue statue of Brahma stands underneath. It was very moving to watch the devotion of the pilgrims as they rang the holy bell and then kissed the floor.

Afterwards we decided to circumnavigate Lake Pushkar and set off into the narrow lanes. Every couple of yards was a holy cow. These were very sweet and would nudge you for food and if they got in your way you simply tapped them on the head and they move off. The Hindu credo states the sanctity of animal life and the cow is revered above all others. Theologians suspect that this was brought into the Hindu ethos thousands of years ago so that the peasants wouldn't eat their cattle in times of famine. But it extends to all animal life. There used to be crocodiles in Lake Pushkar but the brahmins would not remove them and took puja armed with one eye on the calm water.

We eventually emerged onto a ghat with a spectacular view of the lake and its reflection of ivory cupolas, domes and palaces. This was set off by the soaring green Aravalli mountains and a cloudless sky. Nearby we saw a westerner smoking a chillum under a tree. Pushkar is spliff-heaven though not as drug orientated as Manali in the Himalayas. As we traversed the lake we found a breakwater bridge surrounded by green meadows. Workers were cutting plants and we couldn't resist asking what they were harvesting - fresh jasmine was the answer.

That evening we found a restaurant on the roof of a hotel called the Moondance cafe. Our table had a sensational view of the rooftops and domes of Pushkar. They were taking final worship at the ghats as we watched and the sound of sitar music wafted up to us. Joining us was a spindly Israeli who had just come back from trekking in the desert. He had mistakenly worn shorts and his legs were burnt to cinders by the sun. He had a wonderful time but suspected the drover of cleaning his cooking pots with camel dung. But we settled back to watch langurs scamper over the rooftops and the sunset wash Pushkar with purple light...

Prague - the Villa David

What can I say about the Villa David?

Only that I would return there at a moment’s notice, and it has to be one of the most personal hotels I have ever stayed in. It is situated in west Prague near the Radlicka subway stop. The area is rather rural and green. And the hotel itself is a renovated semi-detatched mansion with its own gardens and sundeck.

The price when I visited in the mid-nineties was only about £20/$35 a room (though it may have gone up since then) and the rooms were massive and had big picture windows looking out onto the patio. Their decor was lilac with Blackwood furniture with blue and mauve fittings (very camp!) and the staffs were wonderful. They did not mind when I got them up at 6:30am after arriving on the night train from Budapest. I actually got the proprietor out of bed

But the star attraction was the restaurant. The waiters and staff were such fun and the food terrific. Although I wasn’t sure how they had time to cook it, as it always seemed like they were having such fun in the kitchen. They were a chance of the staff enjoying themselves.

 The Koruna was so low; it was only five years after the fall of the iron curtain that I could dine out on steak in beer sauce every night. The breakfast was superb – dined out on fishcakes and mouth-watering sauce each morning.  And I still waters at the thought of the Rudolf II steak washed down with a tasty Bohemian white wine...

Paris - Sacre Coeur and the environment of Montmatre

Montmartre contains the best and worst of tourist Paris.

The views from the Butte Montmartre across the flat cityscape are amazing whilst the tacky delights of the Place du Tetre and Pigalle hit new lows. Every tourist eventually clambers up the mount if only because the Sacre Coeur stares down on them from everywhere else in Paris. This is an area with a rich artistic heritage. Living on the Butte were artists such as Seurat, Van Gogh, Zola, and Picasso; and not forgetting Toulouse Lautrec hung out at the Moulin Rouge at the foot of the hill. Despite being on the tourist circuit for generations, Montmartre is worth a mornings wander especially when you get away from all the tourists and wander the backstreets which are rather rural and very charming.

The Butte Montmartre is the highest point in Paris and always stood outside the city walls. It was always a rather rustic area with cobbled streets, thatched houses and open spaces. It was a famed working-class quarter which took the influx of people forced out from Haussmann demolition of homes to build Le Grandes boulevards. During the 1870 Prussian invasion the residents rose up in a proletarian uprising and the barricades went up in Montmartre. Sacre Coeur church was built to atone for the sins of the residents, most of which were put up against a wall and shot by the establishment. Now it is not a very delicate tourist attraction and the only place in Paris which makes my blood boil due to overkill. But the views are lovely and the Sacre Coeur when lit up at night looks like it is floating on air from a distance.

Reaching it is easy. The nearest metro is Abbesses but this involves a very steep walk uphill on cobbled streets. Easy to walk is Anvers which is on Boulevard de Rouchchouart. The streets around here cater for masses of tourists and you will find enough bureau de changes'' and hotels to suit anyone. Then you can follow the hordes up Rue Steinkurque which is hemmed in with clothes factories, textile stalls, and baguette sellers (things are a little cheaper up here then the centre, 10F for a bacon baguette?).

At the top is the top Butte Montmartre topped by the Eglise Sacre Coeur (Church of the Sacred Heart). The church itself is at the summit and you have to ascend three levels of gardens with the view getting better as you ascend. The basilica itself is a sort of byzantine domed construction made out of a brilliant white marble which gets even whiter in the rain. All in all, the Sacre Coeur reminds me of a wedding cake perched on the top of a hill.

The view from the summit is spectacular and worth the climb. A small balustrade separates you from the drop and you can see Paris stretching in swathes around you. Its white buildings and green rooftops are very photogenic with the Tour Eiffel and Tour Montparnasse visible in the distance.

Inside is very light and airy and a huge gilt portrait of Christ with his arms outstretched decorates the dome. Spend as much time as possible in the Eglise as the tourgroups only spend about five minutes in here before heading off to the Place du Tetre. This is a little way off to the west and is tourist Paris at its most horrendous. I've been there twice and the last time I came away shaking my head at the place. It is a small square with pretty buildings but crushed under the tourist trade. Overpriced restaurants line the sides, portrait artists rip off the tourists and souvenir stalls sell plastic miniature Eiffel towers. Worse are the sheer numbers of tourists. Each stepping on each other’s toes trying to get a perfect shot of the Sacre Coeur. The last time I was there I saw a fight between a German and Australian tourist because one pinched the others cafe seat. It was not a pleasant sight.

But if you head north or west from the Place du Tetre you can leave it all behind and have Montmartre to yourself. The backstreets around the Sacre Coeur are charming and reminiscent of rural France. Rue du Saules descends very sharply downhill and was lined with balconied apartments leading to a small vineyard. Just opposite was the Lapin Agile brassiere and an old windmill, a throwback to the time when Montmartre was rustic. If you spend time wandering this area you will find cobbled streets, hidden gardens and deserted zinc bars. A much better find then the Place du Tetre.

If you can continue walking downhill you will be in Pigalle, the famous risque area. Buses on Boulevard Clichy will take you down to the Arc de Triomphe. But this is more workaday then the rest of Paris with a TATI department store and numerous sex-shops and prostitutes (if anyone has read these journals the recurring theme is Napoleon and prostitutes). The Moulin Rouge is on the corner of Boulevard Clichy and Place Blanche and if you want to spend 150 Francs on women dancing and throwing up their skirts - who can blame you? You would be in esteemed artistic company if you did?

The Pantanal - Pousada Aguape

Every once in a while, you stay at a place that defies description. A place where you have to pinch yourself to make sure you have really stayed there. So it is with Pousada Aguapé...

Situated on the edge of the Pantanal, 30 miles from the nearest major road and over 160 miles from the airport at Campo Grande, this is where you get the true taste of wilderness in the Pantanal. But this is no rough-and-tumble camp in the jungle; it is an ecolodge which gives five-star service, a working cattle ranch which allows visitors to spot the diverse life of the Pantanal through eco-tourism and enjoy the life of the fazendeiros (cowboys) and their cattle ranching ways.

I booked it as a tour in Rio, which included a return flight to Campo Grande and transport from the airport. In fact, if you don't have your own transport, reaching the pousada can be difficult. It is reached via a rutted track which crosses the Pantanal swamps/water meadows, and in good weather, it takes two hours. Only four-wheel-drive vehicles can really manage it, because during the wet season (Nov-Apr), the track turns into a tropical quagmire. But once there, the staff will make you feel very welcome, and you get to see the scale of the place.

Firstly, it is a working zebu (cattle) farm. It is scattered over the water meadows, and over 1,400 of the creatures and stables are incorporated so the fazendeiros can round up their vast herds. Owned by the same family over the last 150 years, activities were diversified 11 years ago, and it became an eco-lodge. Money has been spent on it, with 14 rooms, an open-air restaurant, swimming pool, relaxation cabana (complete with capybara statues and hammocks), and even a small airstrip. The rooms are in good order -- Toucan tapestry, double beds, blue colouring, complimentary soap, hot shower, and obligatory tree frog on the ceiling. All this on the edge of the biggest inland swamp in the world.

The big attraction, though, is to get out and see the Pantanal. Just past the stables is a tributary river, so fishing and canoeing are popular. The pousada has permanent guides who can take you out trekking in the daytime, piranha-fishing, and jacare (crocodile)-spotting at night. And the attraction is the wildlife, which seems to invade the Pousada Aguapé. Toucans sit in the trees, anteaters roam the horse paddocks, and one evening, as we were having one last coffee, a marsh deer came into the restaurant, and we were able to feed it from our hands.

Magic.

Oxford - 'The Eagle and Child' - the drinking den of JRR Tolkien

Forget Hollywood, forget New Zealand--if you want to know the true home of Middle Earth, then come to this tiny pub on the road north out of Oxford. The ‘Eagle and Child,’ or ‘Bird and Baby’ as it is sometimes called, was the meeting place of ‘the Inklings,’ a set of Oxford literary figures such as C. S. Lewis, Neville Coghill, and Professor John Ronald Rule Tolkien, who would meet in the ‘Rabbit Room’ and read to each other excerpts from their work. For the visitor, it offers a vision of a world gone by--a world of open fires, hearty conversation, and good ale. And I can safely vouch that the food is good too.

The tavern itself dates from the 1620s, when it was the first inn to be encountered on the road north out of Oxford. It is named after the crest of the Earls of Derby and during the civil war was popular with royalist soldiers. To find it, you must head north from ‘The High’ along the magnificent St. Giles. This impressively wide street houses the cream-colored Balliol and St. John’s colleges, Ashmolean Museum, and the posh Randolph Hotel. St. Johns in particular has a beautiful medieval quadrangle, and it is worth sneaking past the porter to view its gargoyles and immaculate lawns. Tolkien was professor of Anglo Saxon at nearby Exeter College and used to wander over after lectures to read excerpts of his works to his friends. He lived in Oxford for 50 years until the attention of his fans became too much and he fled to Bournemouth.

If you read his works, then the simple things in life--country walks, a good pipe, a tankard of ale, and good company--come to the fore. The pub has this in abandon with a very narrow bar, rowing pictures on the walls, cider jugs on ledges, partitioned ‘snugs’ or alcoves, and reams of timbered wood. You can perch on wooden bar stools or take a table in the covered garden. The place is very quiet (broken only by a jukebox) and is a good place for a pint and a newspaper. Tweedy old men with walking sticks and berbers testify to its continued popularity with locals.

The range of ales is as good as expected with Bombardier, Old Speckled Hen, Theakstons, Ruddles, and Strongbow cider on tap. The food is exceptional, with Sunday roasts (£5.50), gammon and pineapple (£4.50), and huge melts of bacon and cheese (£4.75) that are almost too big for the plate. Frodo and Gandalf would certainly approve . . .