Tashkent Station, 8.30 a.m. It’s such a strange day, this. I’m in Uzbekistan for business, it seems I’ll be boarding a train shortly to reach one of our clients. Destination? Samarkand. Sounds
3:30 a.m. The alarm goes off in Aswan. We’re all curled up, silent, puffy-eyed, biting croissants in the riverboat lobby. The Greeks are, as always, chatting away on the deck—their meeting point
It is a sultry, hot day, the south wind is not blowing, and so the dream of our excursion on a felucca around Elephantine Island also fades. We do it by motor boat, rather
It is 4am, we dock in Aswan, jolted awake by the roaring engine of our motorboat. Aswan the indolent, the ‘best city in Egypt’.. Omar Sharif called it, who knows what he
It is ten o’clock in the evening, we are waiting to tie up with the other motorboats and dock at Kom Ombo. A cloud of dark pollution prevents us from breathing, we
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.
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
I am on the Boka Kotorska Bay, on top of a steep rise that allows me to dominate it while noticing its various inlets, the view is breathtaking. This stretch of water,