I stare down into an empty grave. Packed-down earth is surrounded by brick walls and a fence to prevent visitors from accidentally falling in. Seven stones bear the names of the persons who were buried here, underneath an airstrip, for thirty years. Continue reading
In the doorway stands an elderly man. Our eyes meet and I shake his hand.
“You are lucky to live in such a beautiful building. What an incredibly tiled façade your home has,” I comment.
For the past couple of hours I have been strolling through the center of São Luis and I still don’t believe what I am seeing: this is by far the best-preserved center of any of Brazil’s major cities. Continue reading
The 275 waterfalls that make up Iguazu Falls lie on the Argentinean-Brazilian border and I already saw them in Brazil. Yet, I wanted to see this UNESCO World Heritage Site from the Argentinean side as well, even though I wasn’t sure this side would anything to the experience.
These falls have at least one feature that Argentina can brag about: They were the stage for the movie The Mission (1986), starring, among other actors, Robert de Niro. The movie shows the spectacle of this natural phenomenon but even more so gives insight into the Jesuit, close-to-utopia missions in the region, where Guaraní people were invited to live with the Jesuits in reducciónes to be protected against being hunted down by the Brazilian (Portuguese) Bandeirantes (slave and gold hunters). Continue reading
I am standing in front of the largest wooden structure in the Caribbean, Latin America, the Western Hemisphere or the world, depending on whom you talk to. Verifiable facts are that the St Peter and Paul Cathedral is 161 feet long, 54 feet wide, 48 feet tall, and is the biggest wooden building in Suriname. Continue reading
From the bridge I could see them for the first time: the famous Inca ruins of Machu Picchu. This was the site that had been on my one-day-must-see list since childhood and finally I was going there. I was so excited! Continue reading
A rough road leads up into the mountains. Apart from a couple of houses the countryside is devoid of habitation. A low, wooden barrier marks the limits of a private property. Behind it, I see rows of small aviaries, a cluster of trees and a house. The place appears deserted. Continue reading
I was facedown in the water, mesmerized by schools of surgeonfish weaving their way among the rocks, yet the word registered loud and clear. I looked up and saw Coen waving frantically, pointing to something underneath his body. I swam towards him, careful not to make any sudden movements that might scare the fish away. Continue reading
A breeze carried the sound of squeaking hinges and creaking wooden panels. In the overwhelming silence of the desert the slamming of a metal roof plate echoed as if a gun had been fired. When listening carefully I heard voices from the past. Voices that told stories about promised fortunes and working yourself to death under the scorching sun of the Atacama Desert – one of the driest deserts on earth and, around 1900, home to Chile’s nitrate boom. Continue reading
I picked up the thermos and filled up the gourd with mate, a popular herbal tea in Uruguay. It’s a drink you share with others, so I handed the gourd to Coen, who took one last photograph before he sat down next to me. We were sitting on a low wall along the Río de la Plata, the river that divides Uruguay and Argentina. The sun slowly sank into the river and sets the sky aflame. Everything was perfect: my company, my drink, the sunset and Colonia del Sacramento, Uruguay’s most scenic village. Continue reading
It all started with a photo: a beautiful photograph of an old wooden altar featuring an angel killing a devil, painted in blue tinges. Some of the paint had chipped off and the wood was damaged, and it was clearly a piece from colonial times. The accompanying text told me the photo was taken in the Church of San José in Valenzuela. I asked the caretaker of the museum for directions and my partner Coen and I were on our way. Continue reading
We stared at pieces of plastic strewn around our campsite. Chunks of bread lie here and there but we gathered two of our three loaves had gone. We were aghast.
Herons skim the water, their white bodies reflecting in the inky-black water smooth as glass. Green kingfishers nosedive from branches and resurface with a thrashing fish. Roseate spoonbills scratch around in shallow waters, and jacanas do what Jesus Birds do: they walk on the water. Continue reading
Living on an island of reeds, in a house of reeds, sleeping on a bed of reeds, cooking on the fuel of reeds, and fishing from a boat of reeds? How intriguing is that? Please meet the Uros People of Peru. Continue reading
Purple-Crowned Fairies, Green-Crowned Wood Nymphs and Violet-Tailed Sylphs were fluttering all around me. Had I just landed in an elf forest? It most certainly felt like it. Surrounded by a towering wilderness of forested mountains with gray clouds closing in or receding just as suddenly, the area felt mystical enough to be one. Continue reading
Two men with furrowed faces under wide sombreros enter the arena. Callused hands leisurely hold the reins of the horses and short ponchos striped in natural colors fall around the cowboys’ shoulders. A gate is opened, a young bull set loose. Let the game begin! Continue reading