Siena - The Duomo and Libreria Piccomilni

The Cathedral in Siena creeps up on you. This should happen with all good cathedrals. Cathedrals were meant to be seen as they were in medieval times - from a maze of shadowy streets. Your first glimpse should be as you emerge from narrow alleyways so you get the full effect of the facade. Time travel is possible just for a second.

Siena is full of little gems like this. I recommend it for a daytrip from Florence or Pisa. The train service from either town is good which costs about 14 Euros return. It is very important to change trains at Empoli. When you disembark you must take the subway to platform 3 and there a train is waiting to take you south. All trains on ‘The Chianti Line’ are timed to coincide with arrivals. It’s another forty minutes south and the journey is very beautiful. When I was there in June I got to see the famous Tuscan wildflowers cover the fields.

The Stazione in Siena is at the bottom of a steep hill. To catch a bus up to the centre you must pass through a shopping mall to the underground bus station. Then take any bus to Piazza Gramsci where the buses congregate in the old city. You can walk up but it is a thirty minute walk up a steep incline with speeding traffic .

There are plenty of cheap places to eat in Siena and in the evenings the whole town congregates in the restaurants of the Piazza Il Campo. Il Campo also houses the magnificent Palazzo Publico whose tower dominates the piazza. Inside is the ‘Musei Civico’ and this is recommended. This is where the Council of Nine governed the city. The architecture and treasures inside are absolutely superb. There is a beautiful gilded chapel but best of all is a frescoe by Lorenzetti of Allegory of Good and Bad Government. It showed bad government represented by a black horned devil and its effect of devastation across the countryside. Very impressive.

The Duomo is at the top of the hill reached by Via dei Citta. The huge white bulk can be seen through the alleyways glowing in the sun. The sun itself was overhead casting the alleyways into shadow. To get the best view of the Duomo you must see its front facade – the white marble glistens and is carved into a myriad of swirls and statues. Fairytale towers overlook a stain glass window and the piazza below resonates with the hum of hundreds of tourists.

Inside does not disappoint. The nave was massive and held up by striped pillars of green and white. They reminded me of mint humbugs. There were medieval frescoes on the floor of the nave laid out in gold and side altars glittered with gilt. The apse had a beautifully carved wooden choirstall backed by a stain glass window. A side door led to the Libreria Piccomilini. The books have gone but the decoration is stunning. The scenes painted around the room were in such bright colours of scenes of medieval life. The room was interspersed by statues of marble nudes.

Afterwards I rested on a pew in the nave while the tour groups moved around me. I can go at my own pace, when I am tired I sit down – when I am hungry I can eat. But the tour groups had no such luxury. Culture fatigue must set in eventually.

But then I’ve got a long trek back to Pisa and have to wait for two trains. Who is laughing now Steve?

Shanghai - the Metropole hotel

Shanghai may be going through a renaissance, but it has gone through a "golden age" before.

I refer to the nineteen thirties - the era of "decadent" nightlife, fleets of coolies, opium dens, turf wars, and gangsters called 'Big Eared Lu'. An era when a handful of families, such as the Hardoons and Sassoons, ran the city. And to cater to the high society lifestyle of these "imperialist running dogs" art deco treasures such as the "Peace" and "Cathay" hotels were built - each one the byword for style and luxury. The guidebooks called them "The Claridges of the East".

And so it is with the Metropole Hotel, one of the most famous hotels in Shanghai. Built by Sir Victor Sassoon in 1932 this art deco monolith is redolent of the colonial age. Nowadays it has been renovated and its art deco interior has been restored to its pre-war splendour. Its the last word in art deco - reminding me of Fritz Langs "Metropolis" and this was the place where high society used to gather in the thirties, whiling away their "pink gins" in the ballroom or mirrored bar. Those days have gone although it does give off a faintly colonial air even in the 21st century. And best of all it is affordable to most travellers - a suite at the "Metropole" didn't cost me more then £30 a night.

First of all the location is superb, only two blocks west from 'The Bund' and three blocks south of Nanjing Lu. It is situated on a crossroads where it takes up one corner. 19 Art Deco stories tower over a mass of moving bicycles in the morning and exceptionally helpful conceirges and bellboys help you with you luggage (a tip - get them to get you a taxi to the airport, it will be cheaper). The place oozes class with wood panelling, chandaliers, chrome and a stylish bar. Reception is courteous and efficient though it cannot change up foreign currency apart from American dollars.

The rooms themselves are big and generally have impressive views of the pulsating skyscrapers at night. The furniture is French, white and softwood - there is a TV, AC, wardrobe, trouser press, drinks machine, kettle and complimentary custard tart. The bathroom was marble and pristinely clean - although the bath was designed for petite Chinese bodies not hulking great English ones.

At the Metropole I got the sense of the luxury of the art deco thirties. To me, the place was exquisite and good value. And may get the title of the best hotel I have ever stayed in. 

The Serengeti Plains - realm of Tooth and Claw

Neither style of campsite is fenced, so wildlife comes and goes. As a result the Serengeti's campsites are notorious for nocturnal visits by lions. The lions are generally just cautious, so the rule is to stay calm and whatever you do do not leave your tent. 

Rough Guide to Tanzania 2007

Imagine reading that while settling down for the night in your flimsy tent on the Serengeti.

The Serengeti Plains are one of the most extraordinary places I have ever visited. There is a sense of adventure here as if you have moved away from human civilisation and have entered the realm of tooth and claw. You are no longer the top predator – you are actually at the bottom of the food chain. The sheer scale of animals here is extraordinary. - the sheer size of the National Park is more extraordinary. It covers fourteen thousand square miles. The ecosystem it contains spreads out from the park into Ngorongoro and up into Kenya with the Masai Mara. Animals in their millions move during the migration.

Only about a third of the park is made up of the flat grassy plains that it is so famous for. During January and February – wildebeest, zebra and antelope in their million (and for 2008 it was estimated at exactly two million) make their way down from Kenya. The plains between Naabi Gate in the southeast and Seronera in the middle of the park are rich in grazing at that time of year. Its at exactly at this time of year they foal – millions of ungulates giving birth at the same time. The theory behind this is that predators that will be so glutted with easy food the majority of foals will be left alone. The cycle begins again in May when the grasslands are grazed to the bone and the herds begin their trek slowly northwards again.


When I travelled through the plains it was the dry season and the herds were up in Kenya. But there was still plenty to see. For a start there is a sense of space to these plains that is breathtaking. Flat as a pancake and dry as a bone. The grass there had been bitten down to its roots and looked brittle and delicate. Dust devils swirled as we drove past and once in a while we passed Kopjes - islands of rock in the endless plains that are often the abodes of prides of lions. For the plains arent empty even in the dry season – we saw Grants gazelles and a Serval shot across the road. Lone hyenas can be seen in the distance fanning out from their clan burrows. One big surprise was seeing a Wild Cat prowling the side of the road. It looked just like a domestic tabby – although a hundred times wilder.

A word must be said for the roads into the Serengeti – they are truly appalling. It took us four hours to cross from Naabi Gate to our campsite. They are riddled with potholes and lose scree and only a four-wheel drive will do. They fit the description "axel-breaking" because we did see vehicles laid up on the side of the road after attempting this trail. So it is best to see the Serengeti on an organised tour. We did meet a couple doing a ‘Cape to Cairo’ roadtrip and they were unimpressed by the Serengeti due to the state of the roads, high price of admission and lack of game. Thats why you need a guide to take you into Seronera where the game hides out when it is the dry season. The entrance fee is exorbitant ($50 per person plus 10,000 schillings per vehicle and that is not counting accommodation). So it is best to join an organised tour in Arusha where such practicalities are taken care of for you.

I think the Serengeti is well worth all the inconvenience. Its one of those places on the globe where you have to pinch yourself you are there. The wildlife you see there is amazing and proves that Africa is addictive. Whether you are watching snorting hippos, prancing Impala or the famous lions – you will want to go back. I can guarantee...

Salvador de Bahia - Barra Turismo hotel - My favourite hotel

Brazil has fruits that number into the thousands. 

Each day at breakfast, the cook thought she'd try a new one for the guests. They would go by names of fruto-do-conde (custard apple) or cupuacu (Amazon pear). Most tasted rather acrid and bitter, despite being very good for you, and I used to have a game of dare with myself each morning to down a glass of what was on offer without making a face.

There is nothing to make a face about with the Barra Turismo Hotel - it was a superb find. And I did find it by accident - it wasn't my original choice in Barra. I originally booked the Village Nuovo Suites only two doors down. I arrived on my first afternoon on a flight from the Pantanal to find myself booked into a hotel I absolutely hated. It was ramshackle, disorganised, and with reception manned by a ten-year-old who spoke no English. And then I found myself being put into a claustrophobic basement room with no windows at the back of the kitchen area. So in the morning, I paid for one night and moved to the Barra Turismo hotel only two doors away. This was like moving to paradise.

Both share the seafront at Barra. Both overlook the Baiae do Todos Santos and are smack in the middle of the action in the beachside suburb of Barra. The Barra Turismo Hotel is a sixties concrete structure with steps leading into a massive reception adjoining dining room and TV lounge. The price is right--about 60 reals for a single room (almost £13/$20)--and uniformed concierges would help you up with your luggage. There are five floors, and it often catered to the tour parties, but reception was never rushed, always courteous and kind. Even when I could never open the lock to my room or failed to have change for the cold drinks machine.

The rooms and corridors were airy and light, with reasonably sized bathrooms. The TV showed the usual Brazilian channels, and the air-conditioning worked well. The cleaning was done promptly, and the bathroom contained a very enjoyable shower. Always useful, as temperatures in Bahia can reach the forties. But the best part of Barra Turismo was the location. I had the beach a few steps across the road, an e@cafe next door, and the friendly restaurant Churrascaria Ancoradouro a few metres away. I really didn't have to roam far. And in Barra, this can be an advantage - as Barra can get rowdy at night. So far, the world has not noticed Salvador, but Brazil has. And it has the opportunity to be a great tourist destination like Jamaica or Mexico.

However, I think this may be one jungle cat which will resist captivity. It will take a lot to tame Salvador

Rome - The epic Castel Sant Angelo

In a city which seems to be designed to give impressive vista's at every turn the view from the top of the Castel St Angelo is very special.

It was the great discovery of my holiday in Rome and when people visiting Rome ask me for their recommendations I would immediately say the view from this marvelous building. The Castel St Angelo is one of the great sights of the city. It looms over the Tiber and is connected to the Centro Storico via the Pont St Angelo. If you cross this bridge you will be following the route that pilgrims took to St Peters for hundreds of years. And the bridge is graced with white marble angel statues by Bernini giving it a holy air. Often overlooked by tourists rushing to the Vatican, I would put the Castel St Angelo at the top of your list. The place is utterly unmissable.

This huge monstrous bulk is one of the most ancient in Rome. It is famous for being the mausoleum created for himself by the great Emperor Hadrian. The most intellectual, cultured and successful of Emperor's; he created this towering cream coloured mountain of a building for his final resting place (based on the mausoleum of Augustus across the river. Originally it was covered in white marble and its flat top was covered in a garden of cypresses - both of which have long gone.

 But this has to be the most solid resilient building in Rome and must have been near impregnable. This fact was not lost on the papacy nearby who constructed a corridor between it and the Vatican for times of trouble. The most famous time when his holiness had to hitch up the papal robes and sprint for safety was in 1527 with the sack of Rome. Pope Clement II was trapped in the Castel and had to watch Rome burn around him through the arrowslits.

To reach it is simple enough. Most people approach it across the Pont St Angelo on their way to St Peters from the Centro Storico. This has the advantage of a big build up and the vista of the Castel at the end of an angel lined bridge is one of the most memorable in Rome. The bridge nowadays is lined with Senegalese/Dijbouti hawkers trying to sell fake Gucci handbags. They are not very persistent but may unintentionally get in the way when you are craning your head over the side of the Pont. But the quickest way is probably via the metro. The Castel is an easy walk from Lepanto station. A short pleasant walk takes you down Via Colonna and Via Tacito to the rear of the Castel. Admittance is a mere 10,000 lira.

Make sure you pick up the free map when you enter and one thing is for sure you will be surprised at the lack of visitors especially if you have just visited St Peters. The first thing to see is the stone circular inner bailey of this fortress. Several stone staircases lead up to the battlements and the huge round edifice of the tomb itself is in the centre. A spiral ramp leads you into the mausoleum and was the funeral ramp of the Emperor Hadrian and it is not difficult to envisage the cortege moving up illuminated by flickering flambeaux.

 Be careful on the ramp, the stairs are not steep but there are alot of them. We saw an Anglo-Indian couple give up and head for a rest on the battlements. At the top is a courtyard with siege weapons and stairs leading up onto the battlements . A statue of an angel dominates the courtyard and as my friend remarked - "It's the closest, Steve, that you'll ever get to heaven.."

Off the courtyard are the papal apartments which were decorated in some splendour. But now you are on the battlements with superb views of Rome. A restaurant is set up on the battlements so you can view the dome of St Peters through an arrowslit while sipping coffee, and this is a good place to rest.

Off the battlements is a small museum showing muskets, armour and pikes but it is the view from the very top which makes the Castel St Angelo. At the very pinnacle is a giant statue of an angel with sword drawn and on the parapet below is a viewing platform. To the east across the Tiber is the tangerine cityscape of Rome with its baroque domes and hills. Directly below is the angular battlements of the Castel which drop down into the green Tiber. But the horizon to the south is dominated by the grey dome of St Peters. The colonnades of the Piazza could be seen with pilgrims in their thousands moving down the Via Conzolione.

Save the Castel St Angelo as your first or last sight in Rome. But whatever you do, make sure your see it - the views are incredible....

Rishikesh - Hotel Shivolok

If you do not feel like staying in an ashram or meditation centre while in Rishikesh then the Shivolok is a good choice.

 Situated along the Laksmanjhula road and in easy walking distance of the Rhamjhula bridge this is a lovely hotel. Mainly catering for middle-class Indian tourists doing the yatra trail the rooms are in outhouses grouped around a green and pleasant garden. Rishikesh is not too far from the Rajiji NP so exotic birds and mongeese can be easily spotted in the garden.

Single rooms cost about 800 rupees a night and are moderately comfortable with bed, wardrobe and fan whizzing around on the ceiling. The bathrooms are situated in an outhouse reached by a concrete path. Which when used at night means you have to brave the mosquitoes and noises coming from the forest.

But it is exceptionally friendly and the restaurant serves good vegetarian food. The ubiquitous Indian power-cuts brought diners together and one night we made friends with a family who were on their way to Badrinath and the Shiva temple. They gave us a crash course in Hindu mythology which served us well when visiting the temples the next day. And we all tucked into a delicious cheese and pickle paratha while chatting.

 It is moments like these which make travelling worthwhile.

Rio de Janeiro2 - Jardim Botanico and Orquidaria

There is only one image of the famous Jardim Botanico: the orchids...

The rarest and most exquisite plants in the world grow in profusion in Brazil. The 'Orquidario' at the botanical gardens was a knockout. There were orchids of every pattern, colour, and shape -- bright yellow-veined, striking pink, ornate scarlet, drooping violet, and blooming white. Surely the most exotic flowers in the world?

The gardens were started in 1808 by the exile Portuguese Emperor Dom Jao, who created it out of virgin jungle. He meant to create the Brazilian equivalent of Kew Gardens. I think it is one of the forgotten treasures of Rio. Most tourists hit the Corcovado or Sugarloaf, but along with Maracana, this was my favorite discovery on my latest trip to the Cidade Marvelosa. Brazil is probably themost diverse ecosystem on the planet, with so many plants and animals that many have not been discovered and catalogued yet. Many of these wonders are kept at the botanical garden, which is 60 acres of jungle and planned garden under the shadow of the Tijuca NP. This great jungle surrounds Rio in enclosing mountains, and if you are lucky, you may see animals from the NP, ie, monkeys and agouti. They will be exploring the botanical gardens just as you are.

It is situated at the far extremity of the Zona Sul, between the mountain jungles of Tijuca and the immense lake Lagoa de Freitas. It covers the foothills of the mountains, and the best way to get there is to take a taxi from Ipanema/Copacabana for about 10 reals. It is 4 reals’ entrance fee, and my advice is to buy a map at the entrance. The place is immense, and you could easily miss many of the little attractions that the gardens are so famous for. When I first started walking, I was struck by how different these gardens were to all the other botanical gardens I had visited all over the world. The difference, of course, is the near-perfect climate. Although I was there in September, the equivalent of their early spring, the temperatures in January/February can reach forty-five degrees C, with high humidity. This high temperature, combined with Rio's frequent rains and hot sun, has created a paradise for plants.

As you wander the gravel paths, soaring jungle trees predominate. Palms over 40 feet soar above you, their spaces broken by plants from all over Brazil. The trees I recognised included teak, mahogany, and of course, Brasilwood. These, since being planted in 1808, had grown into a profusion of shapes -- twisted boles and winding roots were everywhere I looked. Dotted in between were a thousand cycads, fronds, lianas, and bushes, all from the Brazilian interior.

My first major stop was the magnificent cascade in "the English fashion". The cascade rushed and bounced over a stone staircase, almost obliterated by jungle plants. Tucked behind up the slope was a "folly," an ancient Victorian observation post with views across the gardens. Nearby was Lagoa Frei, a lake surrounded by colossal bamboo stalks and verdant trees. This was where the famous Amazonian water-lillies -- Victoria Regia -- were grown. They must be seasonal, as I only saw the smaller variety, and then only one or two. A water bird and egret decided they liked them and sat squarely and precariously in the middle of the lake.

Then next was the "Insectouros", where the flesh-eating plants were kept. Smaller than the B-movie variety, these were popular with Brazilian schoolchildren, so it was quite a squeeze in the gruesome greenhouse. For all to see were the Venus Flytraps, which were absolutely tiny, but their snapping jaws were still there. The Diouna was an elongated plant where a landing fly or insect would slip into the long stem. There, the plant’s strong digestive juices would slowly dissolve the insect over a week, and for the first few days, it would still be alive.

Then a trellis-covered colonnade led to the 'Orquidaria'. A security guard stood outside, carefully watching all those who wanted to view these valuable commodities. Inside was a white-marble circular atrium packed to the rafter with hundreds of blossoming orchids. Notoriously hard to grow and exceptionally rare (even in the Amazon), here were hundreds and hundreds of the flowers. I was bowled over. Their slender stems ended in flowers with protruding faces -- veined with red or dramatic white. Next door was another greenhouse housing plants native to the surrounding national park. One of the most impressive things about the jardim are the giant peaks surrounding it. This was brought home by the sight of the Christo Redentor in the distance and, occasionally, the branches waving, showing that wild monkeys were in the vicinity.

The central area of the park is the one which appears on all the brochures. The Charariz Centrale is a baroque fountain sitting at the centre of a wheel, from which palm-lined avenues spiral out. The palms (see photo) are so tall that they block out the sunlight, and each one is planted in perfect unison with the other. Finally, there is the Regica Amazona -- a replica of the Amazon rainforest based around a small lake. Reachable by bridge over the lake is an island with a reed hut. A mannequin of an Indian signifies the life of the Amazon, while the lake itself is choked with waterlilies and fronds of plants.

The sixty acres of the park are maintained by a gang of exuberant Carioca gardeners. There seems to be a whole army of them, and they seemed to be having a good time as they moved around the park. I found myself envying them. It must be a wonderful job in the sunshine, with good workmates. Every gardener I passed nodded a greeting. The Jardim Botanico is a hit for them as well. One of the wonders of Rio?

Rio de Janeiro - Hotel Debret

And ...of course... the location is right on Copacabana beach.

Step out of the door and a quick right takes you onto spiffy Avenida Atlantica. Cross the lanes of traffic and you can run your toes through the sands of the most famous beach in the world. If you are staying at Debret you can be up, swimming in the Atlantic or joining in with a game of volleyball all before you settle down to breakfast.

I cannot recommend this place enough. It is in the heart of Copacabana near the western Ipanema/Aproador end and overlooks the famous Avenida Atlantica and the beach. From it's 11th floor restaurant you can see the entire length of the half-moon beach with the Sugarloaf in the distance and you have easy access to some of the best nightlife in Brazil. But best of all, Debret does not cost more then £30/$45 a night.

It is smack in the middle of the action within walking distance of the famous 'HELP' discotheque (owned by football genius Ronaldo) and the nightlife of Copacabana and Ipanema. Built on the corner of Avenida Atlantica and Rua Feirrera which leads to the main street of Avenida NS Copacabana and on the main bus route to Centro. Every taxi driver in Rio knows it and it costs about 50 reals to reach Copacabana from the airport. Uniformed doormen stand guard and summon taxis or carry luggage for a small tip. Reception is manned by professionals and the lobby itself is pleasant with picture windows, leather armchairs and paintings of Rio.

The standard rooms are reasonable. They are of a good size with picture window (the more expensive rooms have views of Copacabana beach), air-conditioning, spacious bathroom, power-shower, fridge and huge bed. The fridge will be full of soft drinks and beers, and you will be tempted by the complimentary chocolates. These are not free and if you indulge then it will be added to your bill at the end of your stay. There is also a room safe for another 10 reals, it is best to take full advantage of this and securely lock your passport, money and camera away each day.

But the highlight for me was the restaurant on the 11th floor. Take the elevator to the 10th and then walk up one flight of stairs. Breakfast comes free with the price of the room and they lay on quite a spread. The choice will be ham, cheese, spicy sausage, cake, hot chocolate and fresh guava juice. But the best part is the view through the gigantic picture windows  where the whole spread of Copacabana beach is laid out below you for 4km. The green mountains dip into the sea and the rounded mound of the Sugarloaf dominates the horizon.

As you sip your coffee, a view like this reminds you why you were inspired to come to Rio in the first place.

Pushkar - spiritual oasis in the desert

The entire town is a highlight.

 The place has a whimsical spiritual air and along with its exotic architecture overlooking Pushkar Lake is one of the most gorgeous places you will ever see.

Many people come here to experience the spiritual side of India and it is a popular stop with Indian devotees as legend has it that Lord Brahma dropped a petal and formed Pushkar Lake. After a while you will find yourself being caught up in the atmosphere of this intoxicating little town and whether eating a dhal under the watchful eyes of the numerous cows or taking the puja with the pilgrims at the lakes edge - you will fall in love with the town...

Once there just simply relax. Accomodation is plentiful and because the streets are so narrow auto-rickshaw harassment is not as prevalent as it is in other Indian cities. Part of the experience is taking the puja on the ghats (lake steps) and once you have your "Pushkar passport" you can wander around unmolested by the pujaris.

 Accomodation is numerous but only really gets filled up during the November camel fair. Thousands of drovers and buyers come from all over Rajasthan to buy and sell camels. It is meant to be quite a spectacle with acrobats, snake-charmers, musicians, campfires and hundreds and hundreds of camels.

In times gone by you would arrive across the Rajasthan desert by camel but now most visitors arrive by bus. There is no direct rail link, so most visitors arrive by bus from the nearest station which is over the mountains in Ajmer.

The best way to move around Pushkar is on foot and you will soon become expert in traversing the narrow lanes and ghats with goats, motorbikes, pilgrims and cows anyway. A note about the cows the only place with more cows in India is Varanasi and each one is holy and harmless. It is quite amusing to be sitting eating a vegetable dhal when a cow comes up and nuzzles you for food.

But it is not quite so funny to bump into a brahma bull in the darkness. There is no street lighting in Pushkar and it is like colliding with a sherman tank if you bump into one at night

Prague - the Old Jewish cemetery

Prague is a colourful, delightful city but some pretty terrible things happened here, and most of it in the 20th century.

Not far away from the tourist crowds on Staromanske Namesti are the old Jewish ghetto with its synagogues, houses and cemeteries. The ghetto was decimated in the Second World War and the whole area has a sombre, reflective mood. Here is an opportunity to see the remains of a people obliterated by genocide, and even if you find the weight of history too much for you the Old Jewish cemetery with its row upon row of Hebrew gravestones is still one of the best sights in Prague.

Josefov is named after the enlightened Austrian Emporer Josef II who lifted most of the restrictions on Jews and allowed them to live peaceably in the empire. Here they lived in the ghetto between Staromanske Namesti and the river. During the 19th century, despite attempts at assimilation, Josefov contained over 40,000 Jews. By the time of the Anschluss in 1938 there were over 90,000 living in Josefov. As soon as the Nazis took over Czechkloslovakia they issued anti-Semitic edicts and in 1941 the first transport of Jews was sent to the camp at Terezin. By the end of the holocaust, 77,000 had died in the death camps and the survivors who came back to Prague at the end of the war numbered 8,000. A significant number of these joined the communist party only to fall victim to Stalinist anti-Semitic purges during the 1950's.

To understand what Prague has been through during the 20th Century a visit here is a must. It is, however, well on the tourist trail and you can follow the crowds down Pariska. Where you turn left for Josefov. As a tourist attraction the area is not too delicate (Yiddish marionette's anyone?) and you can buy a combined ticket for three of the most important synagogues - the Klausen, Old-New and Pinkas. The Klausen contains the most memorabilia including photos of the old ghetto, and priceless menorah and Torah's. One of the curators explained to us that the reason they have so many judaica still here is that Hitler was building up a collection on a deviant race here in Prague, something to justify his actions to the world when they had all disappeared.

Around the corner in Siroka is the Pinkas synagogue, when you enter they give you a little disposable skullcap (mine kept blowing away on the wind) and inside are 77,000 names enshrined on the walls along with their date of birth and date of transportation to the camp. The whole synagogue was covered in names from floor to ceiling. Most were born in the 1880's but I spotted some from the 1930's meaning they were children! Horrible!

You leave the Pinkas synagogue through the Old Jewish cemetery which is a high-walled area smothered in hundreds and hundreds of Hebrew headstones. The earliest ones go back to the 1530's but they are stacked against each other like playing cards. Along with rooks cawing overhead this is a very atmospheric part of Prague.

To have a breath of fresh air after Josefov - head for the river. The honeystone medieval streets will take you past the baroque concert hall the Rudolfinium, where a flyer-giver will no doubt be hovering dressed in 18th costume. But you can walk all the way to the Vyserad fortress along the riverbank. And you will be stunned that there is so much greenery in a capital city. But Prague, despite its shadowy past, is a city of colour. Its townhouses are painted bright yellow, pink, blue, lemon, mauve, jet black and emerald green - all festooned with cherubs and statues.

This maybe the most colourful city in the world.

Paris - le Quartier Latin and the Sorbonne

What do you think of when you envisage the Latin Quarter?

Is it students discussing existentialism and the works of Proust in cafes while puffing on their last gauloise? Is it impoverished writers huddled over their coffees scribbling away dreaming of becoming the next Satre or Apollinaire?

Whatever it is you may be disappointed in the now very bourgeois Latin Quarter. The air of intellectualism still pervades thanks to the world-famous Sorbonne University but nowadays the cafes will be inhabited by tourists from Nagasaki, Newcastle or Nantucket. But it is still exquisitely beautiful and a day should be set aside to wander its bookshops, markets, cafes and the elegant Jardins de Luxembourg.

The Latin Quarter retains its warren of medieval lanes that grew up around the southern entrance to the city at the Pont Neuf. Solidly working class it gains its name from the Sorbonne University whose official language was Latin. This was one of the first universities in Europe, and when the hundred year’s war broke out with England students were recalled from the Sorbonne which led to the formation of Oxford and Cambridge.

 The main drag of Quartier Latin is the Boulevard St Germain which hasn’t changed it appearance since medieval times and its solidly working class population in 1789 were the first ones at the barricades for the revolution. But the areas heyday was before and after the Second World War. It is still not hard to find the atmosphere of penniless chic the area is famous for. Not long ago it was possible to find Jean Paul Belmondo and Roman Polanski arguing away in its cafes. It may take abit of looking but that is still there..

All metro lines pass through the Quarter Latin whose hub is the Place St Michel. This is also a RER station and fed by at least four metro lines. But I think the best place to enter it is from the Louvre across the Pont des Artes. This beautiful footbridge gives beautiful views up and down the Seine. The quais at this point are worth a look with green souvenir stalls selling oil portraits of Paris and black and white photographs. Any alley south of here will take you into the Latin Quarter and the narrow medieval streets are thronged with comic-shops, galleries, open-air restaurants and American honeymooners walking hand in hand. Rue Dauphine is especially pretty with a bustling market with flower stalls, fresh fish and plucked lapins (rabbits) ready for the pot.

Cobbled streets will take you to the main street of Boulevard St Germain and west along here is the St Germain des Pres Eglise. This is a very old church dating back to the 10th century showing just how ancient the Latin Quarter really is. The traffic on Boulevard St Germaine is ferocious so I would recommend a walk to the south along Rue Bonaparte. The claim that the Latin Quarter is now exceptionally bourgeois can be sustained down this rue with its haute courtre and designer shops - way out of the range of struggling students. Rue Bonaparte opens up into the exquisite Place de St Sulspice. The square is bedecked in brown marble and overlooked by the Eglise St Sulspice. In the centre is a baroque fountain ordained with lion statues. The place is generally deserted and you may have the place to yourself.

But go south along the cobbled Rue Servondani (very Roman name?) to the Jardins de Luxembourg. As European capitals go, Paris isn’t as green as London or Vienna, most of its public parks are covered in gravel - but the Jardins de Luxembourg is different and is a real oasis in the middle of the Latin Quarter. The Renaissance palace overlooks the gardens with their flower beds and mazelike hedges. Parisians relax here with games of football going on on the grass and children playing in the sandspits. But if you head east, past the dome of the Pantheon you will hit the environs of the Sorbonne. This is the heart of academic France and the monolithic buildings go back to the 12th century. You can usually enter their porticoed door and while we were there there was a terrific exhibition of modern art.

Outside is the Place Sorbonne where you can relax in a cafe under the plane trees or collapse with all the other exhausted travellers. But my next recommendation is distinctly not ancient and is probably my favourite building in Paris as it was such a surprise - The Institut de Monde Arabe. It is at the eastern end of Boulevard St Germain overlooking the Seine. The French do modern architecture so well and the fact that the buildings are set against the ancient cityscape of Paris seems to enhance them. The Institut is a tall metallic modern structure on a vast square. The ten-storey wall facing the courtyard is made of thousands of photosensitive cells designed like Arab latticework. The cells are sensitive to light and as the clouds move across the sky snap open and shut creating a wall of movement. The effect is c''magnifique!

The view from the top of the building takes in the Ile de la Cite and Notre Dame and the quais are not far away and make a good walk. But the quarter is made for kicking back so find yourself a cafe, buy a copy of Satre, put on your dark glasses, light up a cigarette and pretend to be a French intellectual....

The Pantanal - riding the swamp with the Fazendeiros

Whenever I see a bucket set beside a fisherman, I just can't help but look in.

This time, I was pleasantly rewarded. Swimming around a battered plastic bucket were two small fish, not more then five inches long. They were going at tremendous speed, whizzing around as if to find a way out. But it was only when I looked closer that I noticed the species of these fish. Their bulky bodies, short fins, black bellies and underhanging lower lip lined with vicious teeth. The fishermen’s catch were the scourge of South America -- piranhas.

He held me back with his arm and muttered something in Portuguese. Brenda translated it as "they jump!" and promptly moved to have a look herself. We were by a pool about an hour’s ride from the fazenda. A lone fisherman sat alone by the pool where piranha were trapped by the dry season. He already had two and would get up and go home when he had caught five. Piranha, though boney, make good eating in these parts.

He ran into the fisherman and his catch whilst on one of the best excursions from Pousada Aguape. The fazenda is a working ranch. Zebu (cattle) are raised here to be sold to other ranches for breeding purposes (with a few shipped off for the dinner table). The place is run by fazendeiros (cowboys) who spend their lives on horseback. One afternoon, they were to take me, the Mexican couple, and a red-faced South African called Crispin on a wildlife spot in the surrounding countryside. As the pousada is a working ranch the stables were not far away and we were each given horses to ride. I had never been horseback riding. It can't be that difficult, can it? My first problem is that my feet were too big to fit into the stirrups. Cue much hilarity, as I had to take off my boots, leave them behind, and swing on top of the horse in my socks.

Leading us was a young Matto Grosson on a dappled horse and an "old hand". Pousada Aguape has been rearing cattle for 150 years and has only recently diversified into tourism, and the "old hand" looked like he had spent most of those 150 years riding horses. I have to say he was great. He looked like something out of a Zane Grey novel, with a wonderfully grizzled appearance, cowboy boots, and a bristling white moustache. He would bring up the rear and ride the same speed as the slowest (usually me!), and of course, didn't speak a word of English.

We then rode out of the farm gate, through the horse and zebu paddocks, and out onto the savannah. I've never ridden before and was assured that this was no problem, and luckily, the horse was on "automatic". I was rather surprised by how much I enjoyed it. It was, thankfully, rather easy -- keep my bootless feet in the stirrups, don't pull on the bridle, and if you want to move faster, lightly tap the horse on the backside. We formed a sort of party, with the young Matto Grossan in front, followed of course by safari-boy Crispin, the Mexican couple, then me. We pushed on through the savannah, not seeing much, but the experience was very relaxing. Certainly, if there were any animals out there, they would not be put off by any engine noise or crunching footsteps. I didn't feel stuck or trapped, and it was nice to experience the mode of travel my ancestors would have used. I was even given a straw hat to keep off the sun. I truly did look like "Hopalong Cassidy".

Then it was through forest, savannah and exposed water meadows. Carlos mentioned that you could tell that these grassy meadows were under water for most of the year. You could almost see the mark on the trees where the water level is during the rainy season. But in September, everything had dried out, and only a few dry waterholes were left. We found one with a piranha fisherman and about ten jacare lounging on the bank sunning themselves. We used the opportunity here to dismount, drink cold water, and put on insect repellant. I had to be very careful of snakes just being in my socks. Then it was back on the horses and back onto the savannah, and I had to concentrate on keeping up. Occasionally, I fell behind and had to lightly tap the posterior of my mount for it to trot back to the others. The bouncing motion of the horse made my teeth rattle.

Egrets and eagles were spotted, as well as massive turtles sunning themselves. Near the road, we came into the range of a pair of mated blue macaws high up in the branches. Blue macaws are exceptional, and this pair squawked so aggressively, I'm sure their little egos thought they had driven us off. One more thing on the road was a flattened armadillo -- someone hadn't seen it cross at night. Then it was back through the paddocks to the stables. As we approached, there was only one thing on my mind..

My boots! They are still there! They haven't been chewed by zebu! Now all I have to do is work out how to get down off this horse...