World Travel » Europe

Breathtaking dancing with death

Sun, 25 Jul 2010 14:14:35 +0000

This is the moment a foolhardy daredevil launched himself from a 100ft cliff in one of the most reckless tombstoning stunts caught on camera in the UK. The unnamed daredevil was pictured as he leapt head first from the top of the towering rock face near Penzance, Cornwall. With arms flailing, he spent around 2.5 seconds in freefall before crashing into the sea below. The sea is believed to be about 20ft deep in the spot where he landed.

The stunning images of his dive from the top of the cliff were captured on camera by Alastair Sopp. Alastair, 25, said: “It was a breathtaking moment. I couldn’t believe he jumped from so high up.

“He said it was a calculated risk. He told me he’d hurt his ribs and he probably won’t jump it again.”

A coastguard spokesman added: “He is lucky to be alive. People need to be aware of the dangers associated with tombstoning. “It is extremely dangerous and when it goes wrong it can have devastating results.”

Britain’s Historical Highways

Mon, 22 Mar 2010 17:46:30 +0000

On an island as small as Britain, it’s very easy to stumble across one historic road or another whilst carrying out transport contracts. These ancient Roman roads or old trap roads intended for horse and carriage can tell us a lot about Britain’s history. Here is a selection of my favourite roads in Britain; some of them have a past so interesting that I could almost forgive them for the odd traffic jam:

Watling Street

Watling Street is the name given to the ancient trackway in England and Wales that was first used by the Britons in the Roman times. The road was built to link the modern cities of Canterbury and St Albans and now makes up the A2 from Dover to London and then the A5 from London to Wroexeter. The name Watling Street is derived from the original name, Waecelinga Straet, which means “the paved road pertaining to the people of Waecel”. It is believed that Waecel was a variation of the old English word for foreigner, a term applied to the Celtic people that inhabited Wales at the time. Although the road fell into disrepair when the Romans left Britain, parts of it still remained.

Therefore, it is likely that this road was also used by Chaucer’s Pilgrims to travel from Southwark to Canterbury in Canterbury Tales. Nowadays, the road is not used so much by pilgrims, but rather hauliers carrying out transport contracts to or from London. The sections of Watling Street that pass through London are known better as Edgware Road or Maida Vale, and can get quite busy during rush hour.

Devil’s Causeway

I’ve been lucky enough to carry out a few transport contracts on the Devil’s Causeway, up in Northumberland. The 55 mile road stretches from Dere Street in Corbridge to Berwick upon Tweed. The old Roman fort of Onnum is less than a mile away from the start of the road and it’s believed that the road was patrolled by a Calvary unit that was based there. Interestingly, the road is also steeped in Arthurian legend. King Arthur’s first battle was at the mouth of the River Glein and, although there are two places in Britain that this could be, it is likely to be the Northumberland Glein, which was guarded by the bell hill fort. It is therefore probable that King Arthur and his troops used this road when making the way to what would be King Arthur’s first battle.

Shooter’s Hill

The A207 leading out of Shooter’s Hill, was once a notorious haunt for Highwaymen. I travel through the route regularly on my transport contracts and luckily highwaymen are no longer an issue. In 1611, Samuel Pepys mentioned passing under the man that hangs upon Shooter’s Hill, likely serving as a warning to other highwaymen in the area. The last reported robbery by a highwayman took place in 1831 and the term was first used in 1617.

Although many highwaymen used robbery with violence, they were originally admired for taking from the rich and giving to the poor. In fact, many people have already heard of the world’s most famous highwayman; Robin Hood.

By : Lyall Cresswell

Moldova, Transistria and Lenin

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 14:18:56 +0000

When the BBC Newsnight presenter visited Moldova, the poorest nation in Europe, to meet some of its few remaining Jews, she was stunned by how desperate their lives were. Here she reveals that, but for the courage of her persecuted grandparents, she could have been among them…

OK, I admit it. When I heard I was off to Moldova all I could think of was Amanda Carrington and that dishy Moldovan Prince Michael in Dynasty. It might have been subliminal memories of the dishy one that made me agree to go in the first place.

The episode, as Dynasty fans will recall, ends in a wedding-day massacre. Understandably, it’s not something the Moldovan tourist board makes much of.

Indeed, the most satisfying thing about Moldova as a tourist is no one’s heard of it. Even my geopolitical junkie colleagues on BBC2’s Newsnight have been silenced by its name.

The kind of honours Moldova has accumulated are dubious. It is ranked the poorest country in Europe. On the worldwide corruption league tables it is higher than Burkina Faso. It has no gas, oil or coal. It emerged from the USSR in 1991 but the Soviet shadow still looms large in places. Now its most copious natural resources are – brutally speaking – women and children, earning Moldova yet another title: trafficking capital of Europe.

Some retail giants are ready to chance it here – Debenhams has set up stall in Mall Dova, the country’s one shiny (in the way nylon is shiny) shopping centre.

But today, I am here to look at investment of a much more tangible kind – the work of an amazing charity, World Jewish Relief. It reaches out to the poorest, forgotten individuals in parts of the world where surviving as a Jew is a miracle in itself.

The Jewish population in Moldova is between 18,000 and 20,000 – it numbered 300,000 before the Second World War. Behind that dwindling number lie stories of persecution, emigration and the communist and Nazi death camps of the Thirties and Forties.

They are stories that have been part of my own family history. My grandparents made the familiar journey from and through Eastern Europe (Russia/Poland/ Lithuania – the name changed depending on the year you pick) to London, forced to flee by Hitler’s regime.

One survivor of Moldova’s grim history is Chelia Bondareva, a 72-year-old woman born in Kishinev, evacuated to Kazakhstan until 1945 and then returned to her home town.

When we meet Chelia, she is lying in bed in a one-room house. She has not left this bed for three years. She can hardly hear, is unable to walk and has mental problems.

She keeps a can of water by her bed and a bag of photos under her pillow. The rest of the room is detritus, dominated by a broken television that she will not throw out. I begin to understand that familiar objects have come to replace missing family members.

The only contact Chelia has with the outside world has been through the work of Hesed, the community support programme of food, healthcare and regular visits from social workers that is funded by charities such as WJR.

‘Who comes to visit you apart from the welfare workers?’ I ask. Chelia’s answer is unintentionally heartbreaking: ‘Nobody.’

She talks in Russian and Moldovan and I am stunned to find I understand some of it. Moldovan, it is explained to me, is very similar to Romanian, a language I studied while the country was still behind the Iron Curtain.

Our teacher, Mr Stanescu, a defector, would tell us the names of objects with a sense of irony. ‘Bec is a lightbulb, becuri is two lightbulbs. Except in my country you would never find two lightbulbs.’ As I stand in the half light of Chelia’s poverty, two decades of capitalism later, I realise that joke is wearing thin.

The next day we will leave Moldova and go to a country that does not exist. It has its own borders and currency, but it is not formally recognised anywhere else. It is called Transnistria, a kind of breakaway republic. It makes Moldova look like Monte Carlo.

Transnistria clings to its Soviet past and its inhabitants speak only Russian. We are greeted at the border by Soviet tanks and guards in greatcoats. When we arrive in Rybnitsa 40 minutes later, it is like stumbling into a communist theme park. Neat hedgerows, paved paths and spotless streets lead towards a huge statue of Lenin. Ah yes, they love Lenin here.

We are taken to see Nelly Fishman, who is waiting for us outside her home. We think it is courtesy but it is practicality. Nelly’s house is so small and cluttered there is barely room for another person. She is 59 but has spent her whole life in this house, now a tangle of firewood, dirty pans, cabbage leaves and cats.

For Nelly, this sinking, stinking shack is home. She devoted her life to looking after her father – now he’s dead and she’s alone.

But she is alive, and this again is thanks to the work of Hesed officials who bring her medicine and food, and remind her she is in someone’s thoughts.

They also encourage her to attend the local community centre. This is also where children who arrive after school are given hot broth and computer classes, while their (often single) parents move on to their second jobs of the day.

This centre breathes warmth, welcome and security – one place in this bleak land where the future can be made possible and history is allowed to be remembered.

I came as a slightly reluctant visitor to this part of the world and thought I would leave with my emotions intact. But before we leave Rybnitsa, we visit the Jewish cemetery, which survived all attempts at destruction or relocation.

It is here that the thousands of Transnistrian Jews killed by Nazi-Romanian Fascists after 1941 were finally given a memorial. I stare at gravestones and think how easily I could have seen my family name upon them.

The journey back to Moldova is a quiet one. I am thinking of Nelly. I am thinking of the children who, unlike my own, will never leave a scrap of food on their plates.

As we re-enter Kishinev a curious elation comes over me – Moldova now feels like the lap of luxury. For a brief moment I feel guilt and relief to be back, yes even here.

And I am thinking that in another time, but for the vagaries of migration and the randomness of history, I might have been visiting me.

Egypt Alleges Germany Stole Nefertiti Bust, Demands Return

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 12:13:52 +0000

Egypt’s antiquities chief announced he will formally demand that a 3,300-year-old bust of Queen Nefertiti displayed at Berlin’s Neues Museum for 85 years be returned to its homeland.

Zahi Hawass, head of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, found that the bust—one of the most copied works of ancient Egypt—was smuggled out of Cairo through fraudulent documents, according to a report by the Associated Press.

Hawass has been leading an aggressive campaign to reclaim treasures allegedly stolen from Egypt. Since assuming his role as head of antiquities in 2002, he has recovered some 5,000 artifacts.

Just this past week, Hawass convinced the Louvre in Paris to return 3,200-year-old painted wall fragments from that were stolen from a tomb excavation in 1975. Hawass pressured the museum to hand over the artifacts by suspending their current excavation in southern Cairo.

The bust of Nefertiti is one of the high-profile items Hawass is demanding. Egypt has asked for it to be returned since it was first displayed in Germany in 1924.

It is believed that German excavator Ludwig Borchart disguised the bust’s true value by covering it with clay, and then listed the artifact in official documents as simply “a painted plaster bust of a princess.”

However, Borchardt clearly refers to the artifact as the head of Nefertiti in his diary—meaning he may have intentionally written a deceitful description so Germany could obtain the statue.

According to German news source Deutsche Welle, Friedrike Seyfried, director of the Egyptian Museum and Papyrus Collection at the Neues Museum has rebuffed Hawass’ claims.

“The German position is clear and unequivocal,” she said. “The acquisition of the bust by the Prussian state was lawful.”

German authorities have also ruled out temporarily lending the treasured artifact to Egypt, maintaining the bust is too fragile to move.

The bust was discovered in 1912 at Tell el-Amarna and shipped to Germany in 1913. Egypt first requested the statue be returned in 1930 but each successive German government has refused.

Nefertiti—whose name means the beautiful one has come—is the wife of the Egyptian Pharaoh Akhenaton. The royal couple is known for changing Egypt’s religion from polytheism to a religion worshipping just one god, Aten, the sun. Some scholars believe Nefertiti ruled Egypt for a brief period after her husband’s death.

Among the other famous artifacts on Hawass’ list include the painted ceiling of the Dendera temple showing the Zodiac at the Louvre, the bust of Achhaf from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, and a statue of the Hemiunu from Germany’s Roemer-Pelizaeu museum.

Rumors are also circulating that Hawass will ask for the Rosetta Stone, a multilingual slab that was key to deciphering hieroglyphics that has been on display almost continuously at the British Museum since 1802.

In Africa they won’t feel lonesome tonight

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 12:03:09 +0000

I once landed at a remote airstrip in southern Sudan. The pilot dropped me off and flew away, and I was alone with a long wait for the person who was to pick me up. As we flew in I had seen nothing but bush and rock; almost no sign of human habitation.

But as I sat and waited in the shade of a tree, an old man emerged from the bush. He greeted me as if I came every day and asked if I had brought any newspapers. I had not. But he did not seem to think his journey had been wasted. We sat and chatted and then, when conversation dried up, we just sat in the shade and stared across the wooded valley.

Anywhere else it would have felt awkward just sitting there in silence. But silent companionship is just fine in Africa. Just being with someone is perfectly normal. In Britain we shut ourselves off from other people and leave the lonely to themselves, especially at Christmas. Loneliness and depression are serious afflictions, created by the way we live.

Maybe we should learn from Africa. There, whenever I find myself alone, people join me, not necessarily to talk, or out of politeness to a stranger, but to have human company. What is awkward is to leave someone alone. To be alone is abnormal. When I have said I want to be alone people ask if I am ill.

A student friend from Ghana tells me that the first time she felt lonely was when she came to London. She is not the first African to have told me that. Africans arriving in Europe are shocked that we do not greet family, friends and colleagues every morning. The student had just been called by her mother in Ghana who had asked her — told her — to travel across London to spend Christmas with her aunt who was alone. That she should be alone on Christmas Day was unthinkable.

It is hard to be alone in Africa. Everyone has family. A person without relations is nothing. And family in Africa extends far beyond the truncated nuclear family of the Western world. Cousins several times removed are called brother or sister; distant in-laws are aunt or uncle.

While Westerners tend to shed family members, Africans greedily gather and hoard them. This extends horizontally but also vertically. The only time people are left alone is when they are left to die, but that is not universal. In some societies the family gathers round to shout their name repeatedly to retrieve them from death. And when people do die they must be given a proper send-off.

Relatives can be more powerful dead than alive. The explosion of interest in family history shows our need to know our ancestors, but in Africa ancestors have always played a role in decision making. In Africa’s spiritual world, ancestors are awake and watching your every move. They must be kept happy. If you upset them they won’t protect you.

Perhaps this is because, although these days nearly 50 per cent of Africans live in urban areas, they are still rural in culture. Outside South Africa, very few Africans have lost contact with the village they come from. So even in modern towns, village ways persist. You cannot be with others and not talk to them. Get on a bus and a conversation starts. Even in cities you can turn up unannounced and be welcomed.

Outside the cities, doors are open and visitors do not need to knock. In Uganda you call as you approach a house; in Ghana you just enter, although you don’t sit down without being invited. And inside the house all doors are left open. There is little privacy. However, I think it is deeper than the difference between rural and urban society.

Descartes wrote: cogito ergo sum; I think, therefore I am. The African would say: cognatus sum ergo sum; I am related, therefore I am. There are two sayings from southern Africa that make the point: “A man is a man because of others” and “Life is when you are together, alone you are an animal”. John Mbiti, a Kenyan theologian, puts it like this: “I am because we are and, since we are, therefore I am.” These sayings are easily applicable to all Africa.

In southern Africa, the concept is called ubuntu: you are who you are through others. This does not just mean family or group. Ubuntu extends to all humanity, shared personhood and values. In the past, the worst punishment in many African societies was expulsion. To be excluded was worse than death.

This communalism ensures that no one is left alone, but it has negative side-effects. For example, distant family members can call on you for money. They will turn up unannounced and expect to receive hospitality. You cannot refuse. When rich men die, their fortune is pulled to pieces and squandered by the many people who can claim a gift from the departing relative. And in most families there is a delinquent who has broken the rules or is disliked. They — and their offspring — are excluded or tolerated, but exploited. These days, when labour is becoming more expensive, the traditional practice of taking the child of a poor relative into one’s family to help them has led to exploitation. Where the child is a girl it has even ended in a relationship of slavery and rape.

Communalism can also make societies deeply conservative. Where maintaining the community is the ultimate goal, important but divisive truths cannot be discussed for fear of creating a rift, so decisions are left untaken. And the African family ensures there is no such thing as a self-made man: the classic rootless entrepreneur of 19th-century Europe or America who tears up the rule book and builds a new world.

But despite these downsides, Africa’s traditional communalism has a lot to teach a world that suffers from loneliness and depression. Africa still possesses the sort of community that we talk about but rarely experience. And best of all, a society that does not leave its members to grow old and die neglected and alone.

Amazing Depreciated Church

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 11:57:38 +0000

Wooden church in the village Paltoga Vologda region, not far from Lake Onega. The church was built in 1733, and 19 th century is edged with boards, covered with iron and painted with white paint. In 1810, a number of built brick Znamenskaya church.

Beautiful Holland village

Mon, 04 Jan 2010 11:52:09 +0000

Giethoorn is a village in the Dutch province of Overijssel. Actually, the village consists of two parts and it is the old part of the village where there are no roads. The village Giethoorn is special in the Netherlands because of it’s caracteristic wooden arch bridges and canals, in the center is not a road but a canal where you have to travel by boat. All visitors are welcome to enjoy the beauty of sceneries while on a Whisper Boat. Most of these boats can transport up to 8 adults. You can spend some time on the lakes and arrange a picnic while enjoy swimming, sailing or windsurfing. Many houses have been built on islands and are only reachable over wooden bridges. Most houses have thatched roofs, the marshy areas provide a lot of reed. In former days only rich people had tiled roofs, for tiles were much more expensive than reed, now it’s the other way round: having a thatched roof costs a lot more money than have it covered with tiles. This is a very picturesque place to visit. The village has gotten some reputation with the rich and famous; actors, a cartoonist and an author have gone to live there.

Five destinations not to miss in Iceland!

Mon, 28 Dec 2009 19:11:23 +0000

Iceland is a place that is very different than you would have imagined it to be. Glaciers, geysers, solfataras, waterfalls, volcanoes, raging rivers, whales and other surprises await you on your tour to Iceland. If you are planning for a trip to Iceland, then you have to visit the following places without fail.

The Blue Lagoon

The geothermal pool of Iceland is one of the popular destinations for the tourists. Although it is crowded, it is worth to visit this place. Mineral rich seawater is fed to the Blue Lagoon from the nearby geothermal plant. This place looks like a twilight zone with people covered in white mud and the steam rolling.

Northern Lights

The Northern Lights are one of the natural wonders of the world and it is seen from September to April in Iceland. It is a must to see this wonder if you are in this region during this period.

Gullfoss

This is one of the popular waterfalls in Iceland that flows from 105 ft into a canyon. It is very beautiful to see this wonder on sunny days when you can see the rainbow shimmering on the wall of spray kicking up.

Jokulsarlon

This lagoon created with the retreat of the Breioamerkurijokull glacier. This natural phenomenon happened between 1920 and 1965. A beautiful lagoon was created after the retreat of this glacier. This lagoon has a lot of icebergs floating in it and it is a spectacular scene to watch ice crash into this lagoon.

Trekking the Glaciers

The glaciers of Iceland get sturdy during the winter months. All you have to do is to just walk through the glacier and bring out the explorer in you. It is common to tourists walk through the glaciers in Iceland.

With friendly local people and beautiful nature it is a good experience to tour Iceland!

See more:

Baia dos Porcos

The world most dangerous places to live cause by Mother Nature

Adventure destinations you can’t miss in India

Gibraltar

Sat, 12 Dec 2009 18:58:32 +0000

Gibraltar is a British overseas territory located on the southern end of the Iberian Peninsula and the tip of Europe at the entrance of the Mediterranean overlooking the Strait of Gibraltar. The territory covers 6.843 square kilometres (2.642 sq mi) and shares a land border with Spain (La Linea de la Concepcion to the north.

Gibraltar has historically been an important base for the British Armed Forces and is the site of a Royal Navy base.

It may be a tiny area, but Gibraltar has a lot to offer. The Rock of Gibraltar itself looks over the area, standing nearly 430 meters (1,400 feet) high.

Tourists enjoy the cheap alcohol and tobacco available because of the Rock’s tax-free status.

And of course there are the famous apes. They were brought over from North Africa by British soldiers, and now roam freely on the Rock.

There is evidence of human habitation in Gibraltar going as far back as Neanderthal man, an extinct species of the genus Homo. Within recorded history, the first inhabitants were the Phoenicians, around 950 BC. Subsequently, Gibraltar became known as one of the Pillars of Hercules, after the Greek legend of the creation of the Strait of Gibraltar. The Carthaginians and Romans also established semi-permanent settlements.

After the collapse of the Roman Empire, Gibraltar came briefly under the control of the Vandals. The area later formed part of the Visigothic Kingdom of Hispania until the Kingdom’s collapse from the Muslim conquest in 711 AD.