We’re standing on a bluff among the ruins of the former port of Samharam, a center of the frankincense trade in antiquity.
It’s dawn. We’re driving slowly through Arches National Park just outside Moab, Utah. Hardly another car is in sight. Billowy lavender clouds drift overhead and turn incandescent as the sun rises.
Just after dawn, we arrived at Machu Picchu on the first shuttle bus from the small Peruvian town of Aguas Calientes, some 20 minutes down the mountain.
Years ago, I attended prep school near the tiny college town of Sewanee, Tennessee, home to the University of the South. From the window of my dorm, which was perched on the edge of the Cumberland Plateau, I enjoyed a breathtaking view of a spreading valley and the precipitous drop-offs that surrounded it.
Glittering white, shining blue, raven black, in the light of the sun the land looks like a fairy tale. … —Roald Amundsen, Norwegian explorer
You’re strolling along the waterfront of an important early American port town admiring how the sunlight, diffused by an early morning fog, wraps the gray shingled buildings in a soft glow.
“The landscape is epic and open, with soft rolling hills, lush and green … one of the most beautiful and ravishing places I’ve ever been. It’s home to caves with the earliest petroglyphs known to man and castle strongholds that defended France from England for centuries.” —Anjelica Huston
We arrived in Bermuda for a mid-January getaway as islanders were preparing for this summer’s 35th America’s Cup races. The weather was mild and sunny with the temperature in the mid-60s.
Windmills, tulips, canals, Gouda cheese—and the paintings of Vermeer, Van Gogh and Rembrandt—define the Netherlands for many Americans.