1 France 75,500,000

2 United States 50,900,000

3 Spain 48,200,000

4 Italy 41,200,000

5 China 31,200,000

6 United Kingdom 25,200,000

7 Russia 21,200,000

8 Mexico 20,600,000

9 Canada 20,400,000

10 Germany 19,000,000

On arrival at Agrigento I thought I had dropped a bad clanger. I had not booked thinking February should not present too much by way of problems. However the very first thing I noticed in Agrigento were signs of an international carnival. It was indeed the end of a two-week international festival, ‘Mandolo in fiore’ [almond blossom] but I obtained a ground floor en-suite room at the very first place I tried – at a very reasonable price! This was Concordia in the Piazza San Francesco. Another plus mark for the Concordia is that its guests get a reduction at the good restaurant next door, La Forchetta.

I headed straight for the Valley of the Temples. This is about two and a half kilometres below the town and about half way is the purpose built archaeological museum. I headed for the eastern temples. I don’t know why the Greek settlers found it necessary or desirable to build so many Doric temples so close together – perhaps to avoid spite from jealous Gods? – but I am heartily glad they did.. On the eastern side there are three wonderful buildings, the Tempio de Ércole, the Tempio de Concordia and, furthest away, the Tempio de Giunone. The one in by far the best state of repair – or reconstruction in parts – is the middle one which apparently enjoyed a spell as a Christian church from about the sixth century. However I found the slightly wooded site of the nearest to the road, the Tempio di Ércole contributed to making this a pretty alluring place. All the way along the main path, there are empty tombs and other minor remains on the left side [opposite the temples] and there is much to make it apparent that the festival of almond blossom is perfectly timed.

The following morning the final procession of the festival took place. I took the chance of a quick wander around the town itself. A set of steps led from almost opposite my hotel up to the Via Atenea but the roads up on the other side were mainly unstepped, though very steep. Although Agrigento is statistically one of the poorest cities in Italy, Via Atenea itself gives no sign of this and some of the shops are quite elegant. Eventually the procession set out and very spectacular it was. Some of the costumes were glorious and many of the little children watching were most attractively arrayed. I followed behind to get a bus back down to the temples; no such luck – that’s where the procession was heading and the buses had accordingly stopped. I walked down, stopping at the museum en route.

This is a really excellent place. The British Museum in London is the only place where I have seen a collection of Greek vase to equal the ones there. There is a sort of indoor courtyard and towering up above the height of the first floor is a ‘telemone’ reassembled from pieces, a sort of column with a sculpture of a man holding something up. It is HUGE! Anyway I headed on down for the temple area and there, where the bus had stopped, immediately under the Tempio di Ércole, they were setting up a structure for each national delegation to perform in an outdoor concert. I went to see the western temples first. These are not anywhere near the same as the others, more ruined like a vast ancient historic demolition site but it was interesting after seeing the models in the museum, to imagine just how vast the Tempio di Giove would have been, had it ever been completed. There is another telamone here, lying unattended and possibly seeming even more majestic for this reason.

Later, tired and hungry I started the walk back up the hill. I was far from beating any speed records but I made it and settled down for a rest in my hotel before eating. I woke to the most fearsome bangs and realised that they were from the festival’s final firework display. I simply had to watch and there was a space just along from the hotel which gave the best view I have ever experienced of such a display which was lighting up the sky from far below near the temples. Wow.

I had noticed an interesting place to eat up a small alley on the other side of the Via Atenea. This was La Corte degli Sfizi in Cortile Contorni and I would recommend it to anybody; I must admit to a definite weakness for antipasti and the plate given here to help yourself to the buffet type spread meant that the first course was like a full meal. However the other courses were equally good. I was sorry to be leaving Agrigento but I knew I had seen its best and I never like to stay for an anti-climax. In the morning I took the bus west for Sciacca.

David was a keen walker, particularly on mountains before he developed serious heart problems in 1995. He has now adapted his holidays to what he is able to do and we are presenting his account of 12 days in Sicily over this and the coming months. Next episode – Sciacca, Caltabellotta and Selinunte

The Inca Trail is the most famous trek in South America and rated by many to be in the top 5 treks in the world. It is 26 miles (45km) long culminating at the lost city of the Incas, Machu Picchu. The trail is usually covered in four days, and you arrive at Machu Picchu at sunrise on the fourth day. Whilst you don’t have to be super fit to do the Inca Trail, it helps to be in good shape as the highest point of the trail is 4,200m. Most people hike the trail from April to October, when it is drier. The peak tourist months are July to August, so if you are planning your trip during this time, it may be advisable to make advance bookings of both trek and hotels.

Each year, the Inca Trail is closed for one month during February. This is in the middle of the rainy season, so would normally be very quiet anyway.

The number of people allowed on the Inca Trail at any one time is limited to 500. This figure includes trekkers, guides, assistant guides, cooks and porters. Out of the 500 people, it is estimated that around 220 people are trekkers. The maximum group size is 16 people. Groups of more than 10 require a guide and an assistant guide.

Contrary to popular belief it is still possible to undertake the Inca trail without the services of a tour operator. If you have a group of less than 8 people you can hire the services of a guide. The guide must be professionally qualified and must also accept responsibility for the group. The guide will have to purchase the Inca Trail trek permits in advance for the group. The downside of this is that if you hire a guide you will have to carry all your own equipment such as tents etc and you will have to cook for yourselves since you are not allowed to hire additional trekking staff such as cooks and porters. The guide must comply with all Inca trail regulations including carrying first aid equipment and emergency oxygen. In reality making such a contract with a guide is difficult since tour operators are not interested in hiring out their guides and the majority of the best guides are contracted to work for the tour operators.

The adult Inca Trail entrance fee is US$50 which also includes entry to the ruins of Machu Picchu. Students under the age of 26 years old in possession of a valid International Student Identity Card (ISIC) receive a US$25 discount. Youths under 16 years old also receive a US$25 discount. Children under the age of 12 years old are not charged an entrance fee.

http://www.incatrailperu.com says i f you are searching the web for information about the 4 day Inca Trail you’ll find hundreds of tour companies offering this popular trek amongst their services. Many of these companies are acting only as agents for the relatively few specialist trekking companies that actually operate the trek. Prices for the 4 day trek start at US$240 per person for a basic service (including entrance fees and return on train) and can climb anywhere up to $1000 depending on the service and comfort on offer.

A good and valuable resource for anyone thinking about doing the Inca Trail says that purchasing the trek directly with a local tour operator in Cusco can often be less than half the price of buying the trek in your own country through an agent. However, great care should be taken in choosing a tour company especially using the internet. The page “Choosing a Trekking Company” has been written to help you avoid many of the pitfalls. The Beetle reckons that this is a pretty good resource to check things out with.

Source: http://www.incatrailperu.com

So, what was it like? Well here is ‘the tour’ of the good, the bad and the best.

The exhibition was on three floors, dominated by trade stands selling pretty much what you’d expect, like holidays, trips, equipment, and activities for hot places, cold places, anywhere you care to mention. “Have a Go’s” included scuba diving in a large paddling pool, but there was nothing to see except blue walls and the instructors legs, and they weren’t worth getting wet for. The glider simulator was popular as was the polystyrene ‘ice’ wall. You got to wear all the gear, ice boots, picks, helmet the lot. I saw quite a few nervous women being coaxed up by young and handsome instructors. I’m pretty sure the same women went back three or four times! Kids had their own climbing wall and were all over it like demented squirrels.

Good bits were free calendars from National Geographic and an excellent photo gallery. Poor bits were coffee at £1.60 a cup and no decent end of show bargains. There was a distinct lack of ‘chill out’ space. In fact the Globetrotters stand was the only place with table and chairs where I felt you could sit, relax and chat to fellow travellers, like Dick, Iona and Matt.

There were six talk rooms and a colossal 82 were scheduled over the weekend. I was truly spoilt for choice, but concurrent sessions meant hard choices. I managed 15 talks and that was going it some. Many were ”what to see“ and “where to go”, places like Peru, Japan and others were more about the journey on two or four wheels or on foot (or with a mule) and even longer RTW on a kite or a horse. The practical talks on photography, health, travel writing, survival, gap years and volunteering were standing room only.

Overall the talks were excellent but some stood out for other reasons. One speaker sat with his back square to the audience. I was tempted to usher out the audience – he would not have noticed. Timekeeping wasn’t special either. I made a mental note to write to the organisers and ask them to brief speakers on the basics, or better still pay me to give them a lesson.

Best in show? The talk titled ‘Near Death’ by Benedict Allen, the explorer. He sported a pale blue shirt and beige trousers, the ‘relaxed, crinkled’ look. Launching straight in, without notes, he recounted anecdotes from his many expeditions. Stunning images of people, animals, scenery, claustrophobic and desolate by turn, flicked upon the screen. We lived with him being shot at, learning jungle skills from children, taking part in rituals, struggling with stubborn camels and making difficult decisions. Like having to eat his dog to stay alive. ‘He was my friend’ He added quietly. I wondered how desperate I’d have to be to eat mine and couldn’t help a huge surge of sadness.

Scary, funny, sad shocking, exciting and much more. He, in his kind and easy manner, guided and supported us through a world of experience and emotion. At the end I couldn’t work out why my eyes felt peculiar, dry, sort of. Then I realized. I hadn’t blinked.

I came away brimming with ideas, copious notes and lots of inspiration. I couldn’t ask for more than that.

The capital Port Moresby has a fairly poor reputation, in part deserved, but then, all large cities have their problems. Having said this, Port Moresby is not a large city, it is hard to really say where the centre is, as it is small-ish but sprawling. There is a down town of a type where there are a few multi storey buildings, including the infamous Deloittes building. Last year when I was there, I read a newspaper account that said that this building had been built three times. The first two times, the construction was awarded to a firm who took the money and went bust. The final time, at hugely escalated costs, it was finally built and houses the few accountancy firms that remain in Port Moresby and other businesses. Shell have offices around the corner.

This starts to highlight the real problem with PNG as a whole: crime, environmental degradation, corruption and cronyism. There is a system called won tok, whereby your won toks do you a favour, such as getting you a job, and this holds you in their debt and you are expected to do favours for them. For example, if someone wrongs you or your family, you can call on your won toks to right the wrong.

And this brings me to discuss law and order. The population of PNG is 4 million, and there are around 400 police officers. The geography of the area is interesting. On the other half of New Guinea that is PNG, as opposed to Indonesian, there is a large mountain range separating the north from the south. There are no roads that connect the two coasts. The interior is very mountainous and remote. There are a collection of outlying islands, including New Britain, New Ireland, Bougainville and many smaller islands. This geographical dispersion and the remote interior has resulted in many different tribes of people and over 700 languages.

Many people from the highlands and islands, unable to make ends meet, or ambitious for a better life migrate to the cities, such as Port Moresby, Lae, Kavieng seeking work. These people are referred to as settlers, and they build their own houses from wood, corrugated iron, palm leaves, plastic bags or sheeting etc and maybe cultivate a little land by growing mangoes or coconuts etc. In Port Moresby, there are many settlements which an outsider cannot and should not go into. The nearest comparison I can think of are the shanty towns in Rio or the townships around Johannesburg. They are self policing or completely lawless, depending on which way you look at it.

Over Christmas 2003, I was in Madang, a very pretty natural harbour town on the “main” land. The government had previously issued several warnings to the settlers there that they should leave and go back to their original home land. Few settlers did leave. Over Christmas it became real, and the police were deployed to forcibly evict the settlers from their homes, by burning down their houses and chopping any cultivated trees down. It was a sad sight. There were reports that the police were stealing possessions from inside people’s homes before they set fire to them. In Madang, many of the settlers had been there for over 20 years, and the mood of the people I spoke to was that the government should have laid on some transport or means of helping people to return to their original homeland. I since read a newspaper report that said that the PNG government had refused to allow the Red Cross to distribute aid to the displaced settlers. It was not a good time and I imagine is still on going. I know this happened in provinces other than Madang.

There is a small ex-pat population in Port Moresby and they live in compounds. I visited the Shell compound, and was quite taken aback by the security: double gates to get into the compound, razor wire all around, watch towers, guards and guard dogs, electric fences and inside each of the 6 homes, huge sturdy rape gates on the top floor to prevent entry into the bedrooms.

The majority of expats are Australian and this is the closest sizeable country. Many companies have pulled out of PNG as they say it is too difficult to do business there – problems with land title, bribery and corruption and high levels of crime.

The Australian High Commission sits on a hill and the houses for their staff are right beside it, and look like Lego buildings. Locals call this compound “Shit Scared Alley”. I spoke to some of the Australian High Commission staff and they said that they barely leave the compound. Car-jacking is common place, rape, sexual abuse and incest are distressingly too common. All men own machetes. There did not seem to be too much of a gun culture, but they certainly exist. AIDS is not a huge problem yet, but it is there. The female expats, mostly wives of ex-pat workers are advised to be extremely careful where they drive and not to fill up at petrol stations alone for fear of being car-jacked. The modus operandi is to rape a woman in front of her husband or son and make them watch. This was every ex-pat woman’s biggest fear and I sensed a huge feeling of vulnerability.

This probably paints a fairly grim picture of Port Moresby, but it is at least realistic. I stayed there a week by myself in Christmas of 2002. I stayed at the Magila Hotel which was cheap, friendly, clean and safe. It was a fairly transient sort of place, and not in a good part of town, being in Six Mile – called Six Mile because it is 6 miles from the centre. The motel is surrounded by razor barbed wire and has a watch tower and 24 hour guards – common for Port Moresby. I did not go outside the motel at night on foot – you really don’t walk anywhere in Port Moresby, but I did go by car with friends I made, into town and had meals there etc.

Everyone I met was friendly, polite, interested in why I was in PNG and I have never encountered any problems myself. The diving in Port Moresby is excellent and there are 2 dive facilities – PNG Dive, where I was, and a resort, the Loloata resort. There are 2 places where ex-pats go: the Yacht Club, with good views, a cheap bar and decent food, but predominantly frequented by ex-pats, and there is another place where ex-pats married to local women tend to go. Rather uncharitably, a friend of mine said you could always tell who would go there because they have a red nose through drinking too much.

There isn’t a huge amount to do in Port Moresby and I would not recommend it to the visitor other than to dive. There is an interesting designed Houses of Parliament, and my favourite place is PNG Arts. It is a large shop that sells handicrafts made by people from all over PNG, from the river Sepik where the work depicts spirits in the form of crocodiles, from the islands and from the highlands. I love it there and have spent many an afternoon browsing around the masks, ceremonial daggers, tables, wooden crocodiles and yes, they do make penis gourd holders – the shop told me that the Japanese are the largest customers of these! The people who work there are great (especially Ken, the Canadian who went to PNG as a bet in the 1960s) and the man who owns it is local. They can tell you who made the artefact you are interested in and can ship direct to your home country. I did this last year and had 2 crates sent back to London – it took 5 months to arrive, but it did arrive!

Infrastructure in Port Moresby is better than it used to be. Many of the roads have been repaired – in December 2002 when I was first there, there were huge craters throughout all of the roads which created small mini roads around them! Taxis are very expensive and you need to make sure that the driver knows exactly where you want to go. Electricity is mostly on although the water is not safe to drink from the tap, bottled water is widely available. If you need to stay over in transit, the Airways hotel is pretty good, and you can get a free transfer from both the domestic and international airport as they meet every flight, even if you don’t stay and just want to have lunch or dinner there or sit by the pool. It has a nice green setting, overlooking the airport, 5 minutes drive away on a hill and they do good food.

Bride price is still paid by many people. One man I met who helped with the dive operation I was at last year told me how much he paid in bride price for his wife. It seemed like an awful lot (won toks are expected to chip in as well as the entire family) and I said jokingly that his wife must be a princess. He solemnly replied that yes, she was a princess.

Once you get outside Port Moresby then you can then appreciate the true beauty of the country and the friendliness of its people.

Globetrotters Committee member Tony, a professional photographer and journalist writes:

Going home in a black cab in London, not surprising, but being dropped home by the ‘Minister Of Culture’ certainly was. Gilberto Gil a great Brazilian singer and now a Minister, was in London to give a presentation in the ‘Collyer-Bristow Gallery in Bedford Row.

He was here to launch ‘ondAzul’ founder of the charity that helps bring clean and unpolluted water to many parts of Brazil a country that has the most water in the world but at the same time some of the most polluted.

I was invited by Joao Fortes, a good friend who had helped me arrange permission to go and visit ‘Yawanawa’ tribe in the deep Amazon some years ago, so I have first hand experience of many trips to Brazil.

A very Brazilian affair in a very old established English Lawyers Gallery. After a short presentation, a video on flat screens round the Gallery, Gilberto Gil picked up his guitar and this place became the Latin Quarter. He slowly built up this very different audience of Diplomats, M.P.s, Environmentalists and Lawyers into a group with many of them singing along with some of his songs especially the ones he wrote while in exile in London. The pace quickened and joining in was Jim Capaldi the well known drummer, but not with drums but making his mouth a bass and drum rhythm section and he certainly helped drive it along. One of the Partners told me the place had never been so alive and with the wine flowing, the music playing, this did not feel like a winter night in London but a music bar back in the warmth of Rio. Sometimes you can travel without going anywhere.

So this is how after BBC World Service and other interviews, I found myself in a cab with Joao and Gilberto, heading back to town. Very, very early flights for them and a lie in bed for me. If you’d like to find out more about Gil, you can visit his website: www.gilbertogil.com.br

For more information, see; www.ondazul.org.br

March is Brazil month in Selfridges, London. www.selfridges.com

The next Texas Globetrotters meeting will take place on Saturday March 13th when we look forward to a talk from Southwest Airlines.

The location for the March and April 2004 meetings will be changed, (tax season), so watch your e-mail for the updates.

For more information about the Texas Branch: please contact texas@globetrotters.co.uk or register for email updates at our website (click here) or call Christina at 830-620-5482

If anybody would like to enquire about meetings or help Christina, please contact her on: texas@globetrotters.co.uk

On a particularly warm and humid Christmas Eve Santa Claus came back to Mikindani for the third year running. Returning volunteer to the Trade Aid project Matt Maddocks once again donned the red robe, festive hat and fake beard to bring some excitement to the children of Mikindani. This time around, the Bedford army truck was adapted to become his sleigh by the decorative efforts of Emmanuel at the Boma. As we set off for an afternoon tour of the village, everything seemed quiet… was about to change.

The sleigh ride was accompanied by the sound of cheesy Tanzanian pop music and, having rented the most powerful sound system south of Dar, children all over heard us coming and came running. There were handfuls of sweets for the children, who followed the sleigh as it made its way around Mikindani and then headed on into Mtwara. Many of them broke into spontaneous dance-mode when we approached. As we made our way down to the far end of town I saw a large woman wade through the throng of children like a massive battering ram, take off her headscarf and try to use it as a net to catch all of the sweets. We tried to avoid her reach to get some sweets to the little ones, but she clearly had to satisfy her sugar fix and blighted our generosity for a few minutes. The atmosphere was jubilant and everyone was waving and laughing. Matt was relishing the role and the sight of him dancing on the back of the truck in front of hundreds of people is one I will not soon forget. When he then turned his back and proceeded to shake his derriere in true African style there were screams of delight and laughter from the crowd.

We went up the main road towards the boatyard, before looping round to Jangwani Street by the fish market. In this densely populated area the number of kids swelled and we had more than six hundred people following the sleigh. We then made our way towards the market and veered off to Haikata, where we were briefly attacked by a swarm of bees (not from the Boma hive!) before returning to Bomani Street. We passed the Trade Aid house and made our way in to Mtwara from there. Apart from subsequently breaking down in Mtwara whilst dressed like a bunch of prats, the event was a complete success. It was great PR, although, it being in Mikindani with a majority Muslim population, I did hear people asking each other what the significance of a ‘fat red bloke with a beard’ was. Matt was the star of the show and he pulled off a great performance; one that, dancing in front of so many people, most of us pusillanimous souls could only muster after three triple whiskeys and a jug of Stella. It was a great day for all and no doubt the children of Mikindani will look forward to the event next year…

For more information about Trade Aid, volunteers and their work, please visit their website: www.mikindani.com

The 2004 Travel Photographer of the Year competition opens for entries on February 22.

Following a successful first year in 2003, in which photographers from 34 countries submitted just under 10,000 images, this annual competition for amateur and professional photographers now features: four portfolio categories covering every aspect of travel photography; a Single Image category; a special Young Travel Photographer category; Student Awards and a remarkable £60,000 prize package.

Prizes include some travel and the very latest photographic equipment and software.

The photographer who demonstrates the greatest skill, diversity and creativity in two different portfolio categories will follow in the footsteps of 2003 winner Peter Adams, and earn the prestigious title of Travel Photographer of the Year and the satisfaction of being judged the very best travel photographer in 2004.

The winner and a companion will be able to take the photographic trip of a lifetime with their choice of a pair of round the world air tickets or two Business Class tickets to any one destination served by the Star Alliance network, the global network that brings together 14 of the world’s finest airlines. Added to this a £2,000 spending spree in a Calumet photographic store, plus Adobe CS Collection Premium and Video Collection software, to optimise the images they shoot on their travels.

Photographers aged 16 and under can submit four images on the theme ‘My World, My View’ which show what travel means to them. It’s free to enter and the prizes are fantastic. The winner receives a top of the range HP Pavilion Photosmart PC with integrated camera docking station and 6-1 memory card reader, plus a top-spec HP Photosmart digital camera, photo centric scanner and photo printer, a unique photography masterclass with renowned landscape photographer Charlie Waite, courtesy of Light & Land, and Adobe CS Collection Premium software.

The new 2004 competition categories are:

Peoples and Cultures Portfolio

This portfolio celebrates humanity in all its many guises, and the diversity that different cultures bring to the travel experience. Prize: the brand new, state-of-the-art Fujifilm S3 Pro digital camera and lens, a 22-day overland adventure for two through Kenya and Tanzania with Guerba, and Adobe CS Collection Standard software.

Essence of Travel Portfolio

This encompasses places, festivals, leisure, architecture, food, transport, tourism and history. Prize: the highly desirable new Hasselblad XPan II Pro panoramic camera; a 12-day fly/drive adventure for two people to explore Sweden with Discover the World, and Adobe CS Collection Standard software.

Spirit of Adventure Portfolio

This category allows entrants to capture the thrill of adventure – however large or small – that challenges the traveller. Prize: a once in a lifetime expedition for two people with Land Rover’s global conservation partner Biosphere Expeditions to the Tatra mountains in Slovakia; a custom-built website from web wizards Resolutions, and Adobe CS Collection Standard software. To prepare them for their expedition, the winner will also spend a day at one of Land Rover’s off-road driving centres.

Living Planet Portfolio

This encompasses landscape, the environment, and wildlife. Prize: the top-of-the-range Wacom Cintiq 18SX Interactive Pen Display with TFT monitor; a tour for two people around the stunning Galapagos Islands on board a motor yacht with G.A.P Adventures, and Adobe CS Collection Standard software.

‘Celebration’ – The Single Image Category

Entrants can submit one beautiful, uplifting image that captures the theme of ‘Celebration’ within the context of travel. Prize: a 10-day holiday for two to the photogenic Islands of the Bahamas, plus Adobe CS Collection Standard software.

Special Awards

Awards will be presented for the best three portfolio entries by students in full-time education, with the winners receiving leather print books from Plastic Sandwich, made in their choice of size and format and personalised with their names.

In addition, a number of special awards from Avery and Tribes Travel will be given for individual images nominated by the TPOTY panel of expert judges and the general public visiting the 2005 TPOTY exhibitions. Details will be announced later this year.

A chance to give something back

Another new element for TPOTY 2004 is the option to make a £1 charitable donation with the entry fee. The funds raised will be split between Tourism Concern and The Tribes Foundation. Tourism Concern is dedicated to campaigning for change in the world’s biggest industry – working to ensure holidays are as good for the people living in our holiday destinations as they are for us. The Tribes Foundation helps indigenous communities, preserves cultural heritage and ecological biodiversity in areas impacted by tourism outside the UK and encourages education in global cultural diversity within the UK.

Entry fees and closing dates

Photographers can enter as many categories as they like, as many times as they like. To compete for the title of Travel Photographer of the Year 2004 they must enter at least two different portfolio categories. The fee structure has been revised for 2004, making it more cost-effective to enter. Entry costs from just £5 for one portfolio category or up to four entries in the Single Image category, is completely free for under-17s and there is a discounted flat rate fee of £5 for students.

Entries are now open, and close on September 17, 2004. Full information and entry forms are available from www.tpoty.com or by sending a stamped addressed envelope to PO Box 2716, Maidenhead, Berkshire SL6 7ZN, England.

Where exactly is the Black Sea? It is formed by three rivers: the Danube, the Dnieper and the River Don and is bordered by six countries: Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Georgia, Russia and Ukraine. The population of the greater Black Sea basin is more than 160 million.

Nobody really knows why the Black Sea is called such. Some say that it gained its name from sailors and pirates who were struck by its dark appearance when the sky turned black with storm clouds. The Ancient Greeks called the Black Sea the Scythian Sea, after the not so friendly tribes who lived on its shores at the time. Shipwrecked sailors could generally expect no a hard time from the Scythians, who raided the wrecks and were said to have made wine goblets out of sailors’ skulls. The Greeks also called it Pontos Axenos – the inhospitable sea – until they settled in Crimea, after which they changed their minds and called it Pontos Euxenos: the hospitable sea.

The Black Sea is very deep (1,271m at the centre) but it’s less salty than most oceans. It began life as a fresh water lake about 22,000 years ago. About 7,000 – 9,000 years ago, global warming melted glaciers and the polar ice-caps, sea levels rose and eventually the Mediterranean overflowed through the Bosporus, turning the lake into the Black Sea. Many archaeologists think that this catastrophic event was in fact the Noah’s Flood of the Bible.

The sea is unique in having two layers, an oxygenated upper layer, about 200m deep, with fish life, and a `dead’ lower layer, where until recently nothing was thought to be able to survive.

A peculiarity of the Black Sea is the bi-directional current where it flows through the Bosporus straits on its way to the Mediterranean. The surface current flows westwards through the straits into the Sea of Marmaris, but there is a deep current which flows simultaneously in the opposite direction, back into the Black Sea.

There are plenty of beaches in The Crimea, of Florence Nightingale fame – some 517 km of beaches – mostly small pebbles and some black volcanic sand. Many beaches are public, and the private ones owned by hotels and sanatoria are usually open to non-patrons at a price of around 3 Hryvnias (£0.40p or $0.56 cents) per day. There are also naturist beaches near Koktebel in the east.

“Artichoke. It’s like a hard, rough, green flower.” The gears in my head whirred away as I searched for a description. All around me, serene faces carved out of stone blocks smiled. “What does it taste like?” asked Kay with pen poised. I looked to the grey sandstone heads for inspiration and replied, “A bit like… Cabbage.”

During the week, the Bayon and nearby stone temples of Angkor resemble anthills crawling with travellers. Two by two the tour groups scurry around the ancient monuments, up the steep sides and in and out of cool corridors, collecting knowledge, photographs and memories. On Sundays, the 200 carved faces of Avalokiteshvara smile smugly at young Khmers carrying notebooks collecting English words.

Kay is 13. He lives in the small village of Kok Tmey just outside Siem Reap. He goes to the temples of Angkor every Sunday to find travellers willing to spend a few minutes teaching him their language. That week his homework was to learn how to spell and pronounce a list of 28 fruit and vegetables.

In return for running through the list, Kay lead me to the bas-reliefs at the bottom of the Bayon where the first level of carving depicts daily life in Cambodia. “My uncle has one of these on his farm,” said Kay pointing to an ox-cart in a picture of Khmer soldiers off to battle. “And this is the village where the boat comes in from Phenom Penh,” he said, pointing to a panel that included a fish market. “Look at the chickens fighting and the old men playing.”

Kay tugged at my shirt sleeve. “Come this way. This is my favourite.” We walked to the western corner where a slightly faded panel showed a Khmer circus complete with tight-rope walkers and a giant lifting three other men.

From that point on ground level, the Bayon was a jumble of sandstone blocks. As we climbed knee high stone steps to the third level, the giant stone faces appeared in front and in profile, smiling above and all around. I said goodbye to Kay and left him and his school friends interrogating a Canadian girl about the taste of a guava.

“Custard Apple. It’s like a small soft coconut with green skin,” I explained as I sat in a deserted courtyard inside the Preah Khan temple. Bun, one of Kay’s schoolmates with the same homework, nodded and pointed to a small white flower growing in the shade of the rock. “Did you see the movie ‘Tomb Raider’?” he asked. “The girl found the entrance to the temple by finding the flowers. Just like this.” I looked closer at the tiny orchid, not much bigger than a thumbnail with five delicate petals in the shape of a star. It was a great reward for sitting still. We ran through the list of fruit and vegetables and then Bun showed me through the ‘Sacred Sword’ temple. We walked down the main corridor towards the central sanctuary. “Look how the doors get lower as we get closer,” said Bun. “This is to make you bow before the statue of Buddha.” Bun had no problems walking through the doorways as they shrank, but I could not pass through them without bowing my head.

The Preah Khan temple covers an area of 700m by 800m. As Bun led me over a pile of collapsed rooftop, I was glad that I had a guide to show me the hidden details, like an intricate carving of Shiva holding up the mountain and a queen statue that I would never have found on my own. We wandered down lost corridors to the southern gate where two headless statues stood guard against the jungle. “They guard against the monkeys,” laughed Bun, as the screeches of gibbons got louder in the treetops.

Bun and I made our way to the South Eastern corner of the temple where the Banyan trees had taken over from the stone. The thick roots of the trees gripped the 12th century sandstone blocks like the talons of a mythological bird of prey, providing a base for the trunk that dwarfed the remaining towers of the temple. “The jungle tree and the temple need each other,” said Bun, “The tree can not be removed. It holds the pieces together.” He walked with me to the north gate where he was delighted to find a French couple to help him with a postcard he had been sent.

“Persimmon. I don’t know. I’ve never eaten one. I think it might be a bit like this one,” I said, pointing to where passion fruit was written on the sheet. I sat with Jac under the cool canopy of trees covering the crumbling ruins of Ta Prohm. Jac pointed to a row of doorways topped by banyan tree roots. “That is where they filmed ‘Tomb Raider,” he said. I could see why. Unlike most of the other temples around Angkor, Ta Prohm has not been restored. Instead it has been left at the mercy of the jungle.

Academics argue about the merits of letting the site decay to satisfy tourists who want to feel like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones. Some say it is selfish to want to discover the overgrown entrances as if for the first time. As we sat in a green shady corner, listening to the birds and lizards rustle in the jungle, it was hard not to marvel at how nature had reclaimed the space.

We clambered over stones that had collapsed under the weight of foliage and in and out of courtyards that had been sealed on all sides. We slipped on moss and lichen still eating away at the carved stones and I tried to imagine what the place would have been like when 80,000 people had lived and worshipped there.

Another word was collected on the trek out the long sandy track to the eastern gate, Jac jumped backwards as a foot long shoelace came out of the grass and started to slowly cross the path. “Is it a snake?” asked Jac as I leaned closer. “No. We call it a worm,” I said as he furiously wrote it down in his notebook.

“Adventure. It’s a long and exciting journey,” I explained to Tola, a monk who lived in a monastery not far from Angkor Wat. Like most monks, he had studied English for a long time, but he still came to find tourists on Sundays on the third level of the main temple. We sat and looked up at the steep steps that led to the top of the central tower. Each step was about a foot high but only just wide enough to fit a foot sideways. “You get used to it,” said Tola, “I don’t even think about the height, I just run down.” He pointed to the summit as three Khmer boys threw their sandals off the top and onto the flat stones in front of where we sat. Then they ran, face first, down the steps without faltering. Tola grinned, “There is a hand rail around the other side.”

Tola met me at the top of the central tower. He climbed in bare feet straight up the side, while I used the thin metal handrail to pull myself 31m to the top. Once there, Tola pointed out the significance of the design of the temple. “This tower is Mount Meru,” he said, referring to the place where Hindu cultures believe the gods reside. “That is the ocean,” he continued, gesturing out over the walls to the moat of still dark water that forms a 1.5km by 1.3km boundary to the complex. We walked around the top level, traditionally reserved for Kings and high priests, until we were facing the paved pathways and main gates in the west.

The sun was setting and the Angkor sky was orange, tangerine, melon, paw-paw and blueberry. There was a colour for almost every fruit on the homework sheet…

This article can be found on Dave’s website:

dave@dmfreedom.com