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Today I set out with Peggy Markel Culinary Adventures on our exploration of the Phlegrian Archipelago, off central Italy’s western coast. We’re traveling by sailboat in search of ancient Italian food traditions that are being blown away by the winds of globalization. Any culinary tour demands a nourishing start, and a quick stroll along the waterfront of Procida, the smallest and quaintest of the islands, led me to Cafe & Bar Cavaliere. Italians streamed in like kids to an amusement park ride and...
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Wind chimes – for a windsurfer there is no better sound to wake up to. When I woke this morning it was all I could hear out my window. I was itching to get on the water. On some islands this results in sneaking into an all-inclusive resort, but in Tobago it means a short drive to Pigeon Point. Here I met up with Brett from Radical Sports Tobago. His shop is stocked with the latest gear from Fanatic, North and Cabrinha...
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Nearly 500 years after Juan Ponce de León's search for eternal youth came to end, I've finally discovered what he'd missed. The true fountain of youth lies not in Bimini, but a mile off the coast of Tobago. The locals call it the Nylon Pool, and it promises to take ten years off your age. I took a short swim, and I immediately felt the clock rolling back...
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The last creature I expect to see on an island prowls the streets of Ponce, Puerto Rico. These statuette beings guard the downtown Plaza de las Delicias giving the town the nickname of "La Ciudad de los Leones”. Here lies the historic century old Ponce Fire Corps known as Parque de Bombas. Built for the 1883 World’s Fair, the red and black striped building was the first fire department on the island. It now serves as a museum and is one of the most photographed buildings in Puerto Rico. The locals say, “If you don't visit the firehouse, you have not been to Ponce”...
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There were no security ropes between us and Carreg Cennen Castle. No park rangers or security cameras (that we know of). At one time, like 800 years ago, there would have been arrows whistling past our ears and a deep moat to keep us out. The only obstacle on this day was the artillery of sheep turds left by the livestock grazing at the castle walls. Turns out, the family that bought the surrounding pasture about 90 years ago also took ownership of the castle itself because of a glitch in the deed.
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Confession time. I've lost count of how many pub doors we've passed through. It's not a big deal, really, because pubs in Wales are as common as Starbucks in the States. Each one is small and has its own local beer selection. Not like deciding between Coors and Michelob. But of all the limb-inspired pubs along the route (The Watermans Arms, The Huntsmans Arms, The Farmers Arms, Trewern Arms), the most memorable is this one in Cwm Gwyne: Bessie's.
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The towns of Wales are the very definition of "tight communities." We've biked through a hamlet comprising six homes and walked through several others where a one-lane path is the only access in and out. But this has been the best bird's-eye view of Welsh life, up toward the Preseli Mountains above the village of Dinas. The parcels of land are broken into puzzle pieces, some fat and square and some as thin and truncated as an apostrophe, all sides separated by hedge rows. The soil available in the small parcels is usually just enough for the landowner to grow a few crops or raise a dozen sheep or so. But ...
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Wales. It's all about castles and ancestries. That's what I thought until a stop in Burry Port, along the country's south coast, about an hour into our first day. We'd stopped here because when Amelia Ehrhart became the first woman to cross the Atlantic by air in June 1928, the plane landed right here. It would be worth a look. Through a proud Welsh accent, peppered with lots of strange consonants shot from the roof of his mouth...
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This is a secret spot with a secret message: Monks can get wild. I'd asked David Blackmore of Pembrokeshire to beat a new path on Caldey Island. We ferried over to Caldey from Tenby, on a narrow panga-style boat. The island is known around the southwest region of Wales for its monastery and the perfumes and chocolates made by the 25 year-round residents (some of whom are women and children, by the way). On the way over...
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Snorkeling here today off Fronton Beach at the tip of the Samana Peninsula meant a sea spectacle for our eyes only. One colorful fish after another darted in and out of the nooks and crannies carved into the Dr. Seuss-like coral as black-and-white eels looked on from the seafloor. Every turn revealed something new -- purple fish, then blue fish, then black, then giant brain coral, swaying seaweed and flowering plants. An hour or so of this underwater bliss and then I had to return to life on the land -- and what beautiful land it is.
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