Word: walking
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When Robert Louis Stevenson set off from Le Monestier in the Upper Loire for France's mountainous Cévennes region in 1878, the Scottish poet and novelist spent much of his 220-km walk cursing and goading Modestine, the recalcitrant "she-ass" he'd hired to carry his load. But by the time he reached St. Jean du Gard 12 days later, he'd had a change of heart about his long-eared companion, and the encounters they shared inspired[an error occurred while processing this directive] his memorable account, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes...
...delightful) from the center of Athens to the Phaliron coast. Once there, you have two choices: steer left for the Paralia - a strip of seaside nightclubs and famous bouzoukia (clubs with live Greek music). Or veer right, as I would, toward the Peace and Friendship Stadium. From there, walk half a mile to discover Greece's most picturesque small harbor, Mikrolimano. Then, visit the Dourambeis restaurant for a dinner of fresh fish and luxurious salads...
Tiaro Shire: Discover the magic, says a billboard. The brownish fields at Gunalda, 200 km north of Brisbane, don't look especially magical. But then you walk into a shop called Wind Fairies, and you start to wonder. Inside a room hung with blue velvet and decked with gold stars and Christmas-tree lights, Rhonda Gadenne puts a small glass ball in your hand, sprinkles you with glitter and says: "Close your eyes and make your fairy wish. May your magic come true...
...gateway for Pilbara miners and North West Shelf gas-platform workers, we consult a friendly resident and get a pointer to the location. Back on the peninsula, we walk through tangled, prickly foliage and over jagged rocks. Laden with three cameras, Parker forges ahead alone, the din of Woodside's LNG plant and the whistling wind blocking out attempts at voice contact between us. Parker uses the factory's fiery emission stack to get his bearings until, half veiled in shadow a few meters above the valley floor, he finds what he's looking for: the "climbing...
...resumes drinks service as though nothing has happened. A grubby, grizzled old man nudges the stranger to say goodbye. "What about that, eh? I was f___in' waitin' for that. Gotta go for me f___in' tea; me f___in' missus is waitin' in the car." The walk back to the motel passes the grandeur of St. Francis Xavier Cathedral; between the rooftops come glimpses of the eternal flame in the memorial to hmas Sydney. It's 7:15 on a Wednesday night, and time for alcohol-inspired reflection on the nobility...