Tag: travel
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‘He had bought the card off a rack at the hardware store where he had bought Akash’s swimming pool. The picture was a view of ferries on Elliott Bay, a sight he had not seen. In Europe he was always careful to buy postcards only of places he’d been to, feeling dishonest otherwise.’ – Jhumpa…
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‘Yet her novel was no tortured, obviously autobiographical affair. It was simply a tale of adventure, of a girl on an island who learns to make do. The narrative shimmered with hope, and although it was for the most part rather spare, it paused often to delight in the little details: in the texture of…
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‘We reached the water; it was warm and perfectly clear, round pebbles and the flash of little fish visible below the surface. We slipped inside, she swam out into the bay with powerful strokes, and then she trod water until I had caught up with her. For a time we were both silent and I…
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‘We rented motor scooters and purchased straw mats to spread on beaches of black volcanic sand, which the sun had made too hot for bare skin; we stayed in the rooms of quaint houses let out in the summertime by elderly couples to tourists; we ate grilled octopus and drank sparkling water and red wine.…
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‘While the astronauts, heroes forever, spent mere hours on the moon, I have remained in this new world for nearly thirty years. I know that my achievement is quite ordinary. I am not the only man to seek his fortune far from home, and certainly I am not the first. Still, there are times I am…
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– Jan Juta, Orosei & Sorongo (Illustrations for D. H. Lawrence’s Sea and Sardinia)
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‘I would not have known that St Cecilia had ever existed if we had not come to Italy.’ ‘Yes, there’s that.’ He smiled, and held the cup out, raising it to her lips. But nothing was drunk from it. ‘I would not have stood before Piero Della Francesca’s Risen Christ.’ Her voice had weakened to…
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‘It is only thirty miles to Messina, but the train takes two hours. It winds and hurries and stops beside the lavender grey morning sea.’ – D. H. Lawrence, Sea and Sardinia
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‘It is a strange reflection that by travelling two days and nights you are in the heart of Italy… And there is a lonely hilltop where no one ever comes, and yet it is seen by me who was lately driving down Piccadilly on an omnibus. And what I should like would be to get…
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‘Still, to be travelling on one’s own with a hundred pounds to spend is a fine affair. And if his money gave out, as it probably would, he would go on foot. He could live on bread and wine.’ – Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room
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‘They say the sky is the same everywhere. Travellers, the shipwrecked, exiles, and the dying draw comfort from the thought, and no doubt if you are of a mystical tendency, consolation, and even explanation, shower down from the unbroken surface.’ – Virginia Woolf, Jacob’s Room
Roseena Veronika Hussain 