Every day five o’clock tea is served on the deck, here in the Nile motor ship. Greeks chat until evening time, Italians sunbathe in their bikini, even some Germans pop up, otherwise
[continues from “Ankara, the capital of Turkey”] R picks me up after a long delay. Every now and then I wonder if I am really fascinated by the rhythms of the Orient.
“YYYesss..just some yoghurt will be ok..believe me. All right! I will also try a biscuit, thank you. Please, yes, more coffee, I promise it will be the last cup.” I am in
Una distesa arida e secca, sembra una piana lunare Ankara, la capitale di Turchia, mentre atterro nel buio di novembre. A dry, arid expanse, it looks like a lunar plain Ankara, the
Pity for the nation full of belief but empty of religion Pity the nation that wears clothes it has not woven, eats bread it has not reaped and drinks wine that has
1.30 p.m., Beeka Valley ‘And now…our 2017 Reserve du Couvent red!’. One after the other, we had tasted the signature bottles of the iconic Chateau Ksara: in addition to the red wine,
ore 12.30, Cafè Cortado – Gemmayzeh 12.30 p.m., Café Cortado – Gemmayzeh I was reading the pages of L’Orient-le Jour, convinced I was brushing up on my already largely forgettable French. I
“You just have to go down to the old car park by that shortcut, it is not very intuitive, but if you follow my instructions you can get to the bus station
I once read an article about Hamra quarter, the magic venue of the Lebanese intellectual and cultural activity between 1960 and 1970. Hamra Street was equally known as the Champs Elysees of