I tucked my ball point pen and took out my passport in the hope of not trying to be clumsy while falling in line at the Hong Kong Immigration. My toes have gone red from wearing high heels all the way from Mactan, Cebu. I schlepped a step or two moving my fifteen kg luggage closer to the immigration counter.

It was my turn. The Immigration Officer was clamoring, “One pah! One pah!”. Without the hand gestures, I would have really thought she meant I was traveling with a bad luck on my passport. She was only trying to say she’s entertaining one person at a time.

Luggage Battles at the Hong Kong International Airport

Because I do not have a Chinese tongue aside from the simple Xie Xie and Ni Hao Ma, the encounter with the Immigration Officer taught me to rely on nonverbal cues and broken languages in order to survive the trip. We took the Airport Express Travel Pass to Kowloon. I unfortunately had to battle with my luggage again from the MTR Station to the ground floor where the bus station is. I finally took the K4 bus bound for Tsim Sha Tsui where I was staying. I was expecting a long wait before the bus would be full but no. Buses in Hong Kong have no issues leaving even almost empty.

Hong Kong is like a grab bag of trains, buses, cabs and subways. Transportation moves around lifeless buildings like bugs crawling for food in long queues. Every station however has instructions and directions written so I wasn’t too intimidated.

At West Kowloon Waterfront Promenade

From the moment I stepped out of the bus, I figured out that it’s seriously cold in winters. Fellow travelers wore things that looked like they were made of duvet. Locals of both sexes lit cigarettes around busy street sides. The cold breeze whiffed in and out my unmentionables. And I’d like to state for emphasis that I was already on my fourth layer of cloth.

At the Mc Donald’s, I gestured with my head and lips to signal the front register that I did not have any other orders to place. I brought my tray of burger and walked towards my seat. There were two observations that I made: one that food chains in Hong Kong are solely for eating (read: no teenager leafing through a John Green book and no casual conversations), second is that you should be ready for local fast-food stalls ignoring you if they don’t like you. I cannot hold contempt over their way and culture of dealing with people of different race but it is certainly extremely annoying trying to follow what an outlander is trying to tell you when you are not so used to the language.

This 5 dollar worth of hot shot was a huge help from the cold

After Tsim Sha Tsui, I crossed towards Central, Hong Kong to continue my urban trek. I glimpsed at the crowd of locals and tourists alike and sneaked glances at the towering hotels the likes of Giorgo Armani. I saw local femmes in fiery auburn tresses and Korean sock buns though their fine eyes and pale skin gave away a distinct Asian feel. Quite unlike citizens of the tropics (like me) who wear clipped onyx hair and have taste buds used to higher sodium content than them.

Double-decker bus and right hand-drive cabs rushed along the highways. Engines starting up, jabbering tourists, and the tiny voice inside my head told me there was more to see.

In Central District, Hong Kong

In Tsim Sha Tsui, Hong Kong

At times it smelt like freshly opened can of mackerel and at other times, the aura of a hustling Times Square. The things that I felt the most however were my four-in-hand knotted scarf that added warmth and my exhausted phalanges from the overwhelming walks.

By night, everything looked like lights promenading from one building to another. Jaws dropped and upbeat emotions cascaded as we walked towards the highest peak of Hong Kong looking over the city. However, reaching there only made it even colder.

Sky traffic! — at Ocean Park Cable Car

Among all this though, Hong Kong had a way of surprising tourists with entertaining shows and great attractions. I walked of the Avenue of Stars, visited The Peak, Madame Tussaud’s, Ocean Park, Disneyland, and several others. They create undeniably perfect replicas of the things that matter to the world – Main Street, USA in Disneyland, North Pole in Ocean Park, the celebrity wax figures in Victoria Peak, and even the house of Tarzan.

Main Street USA

I usually like discovering a more ‘local’ thing to do and not be restricted to the “touristy” stuff only. So I gave a buy-and-microwave-it-yourself meal that’s a favorite among the locals a try. I talked to the long-time residents, the kind that comes atypical from when you buy souvenirs from a shop. Some of them were Singaporeans while the others were Caucasians, Pakistani, and Indians. They were immigrant residents or overseas workers who choose to live and travel with an open mind to know different cultures. Thanks to them!

The van rides back to the Airport run by Middle Eastern folks were a fraction lesser in cost than the regular single ride of MTR. I gave them a shot. They helped carry my now 20 kg luggage at no extra charge, and made sure I was comfortable the whole time, smiled and were polite. That’s when I realized I don’t always have to believe what the culture news say about other countries.

Here we are again – at Hong Kong International Airport

 About the author:

Syril Tañala is the ultimate travel junkie. A nurse, blogger, travel show host aspirant photography enthusiast, with inclinations towards fashion, she’s a travel writer who is inspired to bring Tacloban on the world’s travel map. She blogs at Pens and Paper.

When I started talking to world travelers as a part of editorial features on our blog, I knew it would be a great experience. But was I proved wrong. Great was such an understatement! I now know that when Anton Chekhov wrote “In your books I have climbed to the peaks of Elburz and Mont Blanc”, he meant it. From tales of cross-continental roadtrips to tiny towns in Indonesia and Philippines, the experiences have been fascinating! The search for inspiring travel personalities this time leads to Doris Neubauer of Austria.

A “writing nomad on the road”,  she blogs about her adventures on her blog Little Miss Itchy Feet. Alongside, Doris is also a travel journalist for an online magazine. She blogs about sustainable travel, eco-tourism and about people who not only explore the world, but also change it for the better, one step at a time. Here are some snippets from my conversation with her.

Doris Neubauer

A country upbringing and cycling Pakistan and Bali

I was born in 1978 and am a typical Sagittarius: loving my freedom, loving the travel bug and constantly have  itchy feet.  My early memories are basically growing up in the countryside, knowing that I wanted to leave soon and dreaming of being on stage, exploring the world. Well, I am not on stage now (if you don´t call the internet a stage) but I do explore the world. And connect people, that’s what I love doing!

I think I got caught the travel bug at the age of 12 or 14 when I traveled with my aunt. She was a traveler, went to Bali and Pakistan with her bicycle in the 70s and 80s. And she did all kinds of crazy trips to the former Eastern Europe as well. So I think, she handed it down to me and showed me the greatness of planet earth.

Growing up to love travel and those several rolls with jam

As a family, we did not travel a lot – basically, we only went for week-long skiing trips during wintertime. But I remember I loved these trips, especially, when my aunt was with us. Then, when I was about 10, I joined my best friend and her family for rather typical beach trips to Italy.

I discovered I did not like these kind of travels too much – only hanging out on the beach, but I did it nevertheless and loved to see new things. At the age of 12 or 14, I did some city trips with my aunt – and that´s when I fell in love with traveling for good. I remember sitting together playing cards in the evening or walking through the snow. And I remember the huge amount of breakfast we ate – like several rolls with jam and butter. I cannot even imagine doing that now!

For the love of food: on a roadtrip through Emilia Romagna

The importance of couchsurfing, language and a kitchen

As a couchsurfer, I love to get local – the more the better. I usually stay with locals, families, couples, singles, whoever is offering a place to stay – once, when I was in Malta, then in Florence and rather recently in Bogotá – all of these occasions where for learning and improving a language.

I just love to get in touch with the local culture – and it´s great to have a knowledgeable local friend wherever you go. It´s convenient, makes things easy and especially as a long term traveler, I highly appreciate having a kitchen to cook in, people to eat with and just share stories in the evening.

As a couchsurfer since 2007, I have hosted many people and showed them around in Vienna. It´s mostly about giving back what I receive all the time when on the road. The reason is not because I am proud of my city. I don´t feel connected or patriotic about my country – or any other country. It´s just the feeling of showing them the “right places” which I love and feel comfortable with.

For me, traveling is all about the people I meet and experiencing the connection between all of us. Culture is fascinating for sure, and so is history and nature. But in the end, it´s all about the people you meet, the friends who bring their culture closer to you.

The global footprint so far

So far? Trifled with Australia and South America. Been to Argentina, Uruguay, Colombia, Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru, Brazil. Traveled to the Latin Americas, including Guatemala, Belize, Mexico. Parts of USA: Oregon; Washington State, Florida, Nevada, Arizona, New York City, California, Hawaii. Hopped on to Canada and to Cuba, Sri Lanka and Egypt. Explored bits of Europe.

I love to re-visit places where I made great friends. And there´s hardly any place I would not go back to. That said, at the moment, I try to explore new countries and places. I am rather up for new discoveries than re-visits. But I am forever in love with Berlin, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Australia, Ecuador and, oh my gosh, so many other places!

Indulging in figs after a great weekend in the Soca Valley in Slovenia.

There are a lot of places on my bucket list. One dream coming true is a visit of Bhutan. I am invited as one of the few journalists from the German speaking countries. Why I would love to go and look so forward to it? It´s a very fascinating country, very different to where I am coming from and I feel very attracted to these Asian parts of the world that I am yet to eplore.

The top 3 favorite travel experiences

That´s a hard one. Every single trip where people were involved, I suppose. Recent one where re-uniting with a couple I met in Bogotá once again in Oruro, Bolivia for the Carnival. Or spending Christmas in Ecuador with a bunch of people from all over the world at a distant farm. And traveling three countries with some random guys I had met only a day before – and overcoming the prejudices of being “different”.

Where is Doris now?

At the moment, I am sitting in the kitchen of my old apartment in Vienna. I just moved back in a couple of days ago after being away for two years. Nothing is set yet, but I am happy to have a base again.

“Traveling is one of my biggest passions, it´s something which keeps me going – it includes both the inner and the outer journey.” - Doris Neubauer

Doris Neubauer.

My recent conversations with world travel personalities has taken me from New York to a seven year travel rendezvous in India to Yogyakarta and Jakarta in Indonesia. These conversations have been nothing short of fascinating.  I am closer to believing that travel is by far, one of the most enchanting things ever. The series of conversations this time leads to the small town of Tacloban, Philippines. Here lives the travel junkie Syril Tañala.

Nurse, blogger, travel show host aspirant, photography enthusiast, with inclinations towards fashion, she’s a travel writer who is inspired to bring Tacloban on the world’s travel map. She blogs at Pens and Paper.

Little Tacloban and the budding of big travel dreams

I grew up in the small city of Tacloban, located more than 300 miles southeast of Manila, Philippines. Tacloban is probably one of the places in the world map that is infrequently thought of as a great travel destination. And given my druthers, I’d like to show these Lonely Planet six degree-ers that Tacloban can be one of the places they’d like to include in their places-to-go-before-you-die list. I’m not lying about that. The San Juanico Bridge for example that is the longest bridge in the Philippines spanning a body of seawater and the neoclassical structures.

Our parents made permissiveness as one of their parenting strategies so I had the chance to travel to places since junior high. That permissive opportunity allowed me to call up independence and responsibility as significant characteristics to imbibe when having the dreams to contribute or explore the world for whatever its worth.

Our house is adjacent to the city’s airport and I recall getting the chance to hear the sound of planes taking off the landing strip. I usually straddle from outside the house to see the plane hover. And when I see it blend in midair, I tend to fuel up my travel dream tank.

On United Nations, monkey thieves and midnight Coke trucks

I’d particularly like to mention the first travel I took to Subic, Zambales, Philippines in 2004. That trip was sponsored by the United Nations Population Foundation in cooperation with different non-profit organization all over Asia. It was for the Asia Pacific Youth Camp, delegated by youths aged 14 to 21, from countries including China, Hong Kong, Malaysia, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, Singapore, Western Samoa, Nepal, Tajikistan, Iraq, Philippines, and India.

It was a good experience to wander about the entire place with no tour guides and maps on tow. Only a “Camp Admission Passport” which we usually presented wherever we went. The best part was being able to explore the environment and the people like any other pro backpacker.

I recall eating rice the way Iraqis do—with meat, brawn, veges, and oil combined, that at first tasted bizarre. I also recall running after a monkey who steals backpacks and laughs at everyone like human.

Another time, we went riding on a Coca-Cola truck at 2AM together with 2 other friends on our way back to the place we stay in, all because we missed the last transport. Sometimes, it’s the little misadventures that make a travel lasting in the mind.

Zambales, Philippines

On being a local

I recently went on a vacation in the eastern coast of Samar, Philippines. The resort I stayed in is adjacent to calm blue sea water, surrounded by secluded coves, coral gardens, and rock island formation. I toured from one island to another together with the local fishermen, who, for good reasons, know the place better than the paid tour guides. Rare species of bonsai plants, secret bat caves, these are few of the many things I got the chance to see that my tour guide would’ve probably not told me.

Sightseeing the top attractions of a country or a destination is what makes a tourist while taking a chance to converse with the local people is what makes a traveler. And the latter always gets the constant privilege of discovering more.

Kalanggaman Island, Palompon

I have this conviction to be able to travel without being in a foreign country. That’s where the city I live comes in. Try the Lush Gardens for the best thrift shops to get good home and travel finds. The Ulot and Sohoton rivers for Torpedo adventure, river cruising and white beaches that are even better than Boracay. Or, head over to Ayo, the Sunzibar Café, or  Uncle Sam’s for the best places of foreign cuisines— Gourmet, Mexican, Middle Eastern, French, and more. It’s like finding Europe and Mediterranean in one city.

Ayo Cafe, Tacloban

On being a host

My idea of a local-travel is more than just couchsurfing, moving from one friend’s house to another. It’s more of setting a travel itinerary that is dedicated to discovering the place, the food, the culture, and the people. It will always be an amalgamation of these four.

Maybe walk visitors around which I believe is a better way of transferring from one place to another since you’re more likely to see the details of the city.

I’m not sure though when walking becomes too much when I become all wound up with touring. I have these tiny tendencies of going to several places out of excitement and missing the more important ones. That makes me a poor tour guide. I might as well take visitors for a ride to the other must-sees in the city.

The inspiration behind travel

There is this quote by one of my favorite traveler/presenter, Andrew Zimmern that I always try to live by. He said, “Please be a traveler, not a tourist. Try new things, meet new people, and look beyond what’s right in front of you. Those are the keys to understanding this amazing world we live in”. To me, it’s like realizing that all people and destination are not really different from each other or that the difference is what makes the world worth discovering. And that’s what inspires me most.

When I see photos of the place I visit in prints, pleasant remembrances pop up. And most of these remembrances come from the people I come in contact with.

A Philippines coast

When travel became a passion

In grade school in the ‘90s, I often see the people in the house travel to and fro a country. My parents to other cities, my uncle to Algeria, Middle East, New Caledonia, Laos, and Paris. The strangest of all reasons had to be when I began to love the smell of freshly opened travel books and luggage that still has the scent of the airport wafting on it when they come home.

The travel keepsakes, the unique stories of the places and people in every postcard, and when finally all passengers are called to check in the airport; those little things, really.

Most of my travels are within the confines of my country. The country is my first travel road. But I have a trip coming up to East Asia in January—Hong Kong, Macau, and China. I, together with three other travel fanciers will be staying there for roughly two weeks. Then probably would whip on over to other destinations—Vietnam, Cambodia, Norway, Singapore, Paris, London, to name a few. No matter which, it will be all worth it.

That illusive favoutite 

I haven’t yet found my most perfect travel destination. If I had, I would already have packed my things and stayed there for good. Every place I visit has a unique feature in them. Each is worth coming back to. Only that travel is a continuous desire for me, a constant probe for the undiscovered. But if one day I realize that one place I always love visiting again and again, you’ll be the first to know.

Where to next?

Three to six months each of stay in Malaysia, Singapore, and Bali, Indonesia where I’d like to meet Ketut Liyer, the medicine man in Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love. A few days stay in Jakarta where I’d to personally meet the batik fashion designer I first featured in my weblog; the same duration of stay in India, Shanghai, Bangkok, Taipei and Okinawa.

Maybe a summer staycation in French Polynesia. Some months would also be spent passing through the all-biking lane and color-coded suburbs of Copenhagen, Denmark, a glide through the Venetian canals of Italy, a Holy Mass heard in Vatican City.

Walks in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, winter in the Scandinavian countries, a dinner with the locals in Ghent, Brussels, Prague, Barcelona, and Luxembourg. Then a road trip to the other cities of France. Well this list would be too short for a travel around the world.

Rowing the Pacific – with Syril

The top 3 travel experiences

Food porn-ing in the streets like a true native. Learning a new word from the locals. And telling the world how great a time there has to be in the places I visit. In my case, it is by sharing them through my travel logs.

For this I’d like to borrow a line from the very same Andrew Zimmern. He said, “I like who I am when I’m traveling better than the person I am when I wake up every morning in my own house”.

 ”Travel is a continuous desire for me, a constant probe for the undiscovered.” — Syril

Street Vendor, Philippines

Find Syril on twitter and check out her travel escapades on her facebook feed; and don’t forget to check out her blog.

Let’s face it. Not everyone of us has the luxury to travel each day of our lives. Even for us in the industry, actual travel is not a regular event. For the lesser fortunate majority, travel does not have to end with the summer break or that one lovely weekend trip we were able to squeeze in between all the desirable (or undesirable) mayhem.

There are many out there for whom the road is just as attractive as an annual hike in the paycheck. Ones who would gladly swap the green bills for a regular week long leave intended to explore. There is that nagging requirement, that annoying itch that creeps in now and then. Couch travel does no good at such times. But it does a pretty job in between. Easily put, here is your ultimate guide on how to still ‘travel’ or be inspired to travel, while you are actually not on a trip.

Songs of the Road

Music moves us all. And here, we want the result to be quite literal in meaning and outcome. And for those out there with a gypsy blood infusion, music promises to speak to who one really is and why exactly they cannot ever truly settle down.

... one more time! By x-ray delta one

The first that comes to mind is Lynyrd Skynyrd‘s Sweet Home Alabama. The notorious “Turn it up!” that Ronnie Van Zant utters right in the beginning was unplanned. He was actually asking the producer to turn up the volume on his headphones. Why I love it: As a lover of American classics, specially ones that come from the South, such regional music is what I often turn to when I am in need for some groove. As Leigh Ann Henion puts it, “this feel-good song about my homeland always picks me up when I’m feelin’ blue.”

Gene Pitney’s 24 Hours from Tulsa is definitely a song of its time. A tale of unexpected love while just a day’s drive away from the lady of an existing relationship. Interestingly, the Welsh hotel where Pitney died in 2006 was about 24 hours’ travel time from Tulsa.

And of course, how can I ever forget the distinctively wailing cry of vocalist Robert Plant in the Immigrant Song ( Led Zeppelin, a single from their third album, Led Zeppelin III, 1970). A song that was actually written on a trip. The history is pretty endearing too – written during Led Zeppelin’s tour of Iceland, Bath and Germany. In Plant’s own words:

We weren’t being pompous … We did come from the land of the ice and snow. We were guests of the Icelandic Government on a cultural mission. We were invited to play a concert in Reykjavik and the day before we arrived all the civil servants went on strike and the gig was going to be cancelled. The university prepared a concert hall for us and it was phenomenal. The response from the kids was remarkable and we had a great time. “Immigrant Song” was about that trip and it was the opening track on the album that was intended to be incredibly different

Of course, there are many other beautiful tunes that really can kick in the travel bug. To name a specific few, there’s “Born To Run” by Bruce Springsteen, the ever popular “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC, “Runnin’ Down a Dream” by Tom Petty, “Truckin’” by Grateful Dead, and well, “Leaving on a Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul and Mary.

Mary, Paul AND Peter By Epiclectic

Travel in Literature – the best books ever written

For those of us who enjoy weaving our own imagination, perspectives and views, it is literature (be it fiction or otherwise) that really cuts the deal. Travel has featured extensively in literature through out mankind’s history. Our earliest writings, even the Epic of Gilgamesh (from Mesopotamia) which is considered by most as the oldest surviving piece of literature of any kind, tells a story of travel in a form – friendship between Gilgamesh and Enkidu. Enkidu is a wild man created by the gods as Gilgamesh’s equal to distract him from oppressing the people of Uruk. Together, they journey to the Cedar Mountain to defeat Humbaba, its monstrous guardian.

Epic of Gilgamesh By alternatelife

Coming to the best in travel literature, one of the many that take center stage is On the Road by Jack Kerouac (Amazon | Flipkart). This book should come with a clear disclaimer – it might inspire you never to settle down in any one place again. And that travel is the truest religion of all. The book is about the trip made by Kerouac and his Beat Generation friends across America in the years after the Second World War.

From New York it’s Denver, then to San Francisco and LA. Along the way are whiffs of jazz, poetry, drugs and among many other things, Dean Moriarty’s incredible thirst for life.

On The Road, Jack Kerouac By Andy Field (Hubmedia)

Holy Cow : an Indian Adventure By hello_kay

In April 1992 a young man from a well-to-do family hitchhiked to Alaska and walked alone into the wilderness north of Mt. McKinley. His name was Christopher Johnson McCandless. He had given $25,000 in savings to charity, abandoned his car and most of his possessions, burned all the cash in his wallet, and invented a new life for himself.

Into The Wild By midnightmare.tumblr.com

A married woman realizes how unhappy her marriage really is, and that her life needs to go in a different direction. After a painful divorce, she takes off on a round-the-world journey to “find herself”.

Paris, Cafe By melissa.delzio

 -Debnath

The world turns to London this summer with the arrival of the Olympics and the Euro swindle. But aside the fencing for the olive stamped gold, London charms and flirts like never before. We visit Sherlock and Watson, find Wordsworth’s inspiration, become a lexicographer, decide on which flowers to buy for the mother-in-law – see London the way most have forgotten. This is an exploration of London that stems around the most intriguing traits of its personality (read England, dainty, and someone called “Love”).

by Stuck in Customs

The Flowers of Columbia

Talking a walk through Columbia Road Flower Market on an early Sunday morning is a lesson on ritualistic verbal market-wit. There are bunches of fiver cheap enough for a sarcastic giveaway, and daffodils “so cheap that’s it’s perfect for your mother-in-law’s grave”.  A seasoned stallholder of 80 explains that it is all about making the folks smile. And if you can make them laugh, you are doing alright. It is a riot of colours, fragrances and an endless flow of banter.

But the permanent shops behind these endless lines of flower stalls are as much a part of the magic. More than sixty of them line the street. And these include a few nifty art galleries, pastry, one of those book-cover perfect antiques shops and the omnipresent gardening stores.

Get your Roses by y shootingjaydred

Taking a quiet turn off at the Exra Street leads to a complex maze of cobbled streets that is full of some really creative wares coming from the area’s community – trinkets made by the hand, baskets, vintage clothing, and some fresh oyesters as well. To accompany all this and make the scene just right, are busking street bands. Far from the tourist madness, the Borough and Portobello markets bloom every weekend.

at the columbia road flower market at the top of brick lane in east london and these city ladies looked good letting their hair down - by ultraBobban

The best Foie Gras

Terence Conran is London’s darling designer and restaurateur of the 1980s. He came back into popularity in 2008 when he moved eastward to Shoreditch, to convert what was once a Victorian warehouse into an establishment now called the Boundary. Here is served some brilliant shepherd’s pie and grilled mackerel. The food shop sells Golden Syrup. The upper floors are a hotel. But it is the basement which steals the show. The Boundary Restaurant and Bar throws in an air of elegance amidst fantastic dining. Here is found, arguably, the best Foie Gras in London.

On a lexicographer’s path

A walk fringed by the blue display plaques spelling out names like Ezra Pound, James Joyce and even T. S. Eliot, and you know you are walking one literary path! Many of Her Majesty’s greatest writers lived here at least once in their lifetimes. Dr. Johnson’s house which sits on Gough Square is a real gem of writer’s adobe, tucked away in an un-remarkably common and quiet spot near to the Fleet Street. This is the home of Samuel Johnson, the critic, essayist and aphorist who penned the popular English dictionary.

Dr Johnson's House by Duncan~

The exhibitions spanning across the rooms show the environment where he went about doing the mammoth task. It also houses one of his original dictionaries (published in 1755) which the visitors can leaf through. A visit and perhaps one of us can decipher why the master defined oats such – “a grain, which in England is generally given to horses, but in Scotland supports the people.”

Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese

Nearby, and just off Fleet Street is the Cheshire Cheese pub and it has been around for about as long as Dr. Jonson’s house has and carries on the ‘Olde London’ atmosphere with finesse. There is quite a good possibility that Johnson himself might have dropped in from time to time, although there are no official records of it. Either way, there are lots of Johnson memorabilia inside.

The Cheshire Cheese by Duncan~

Elementary, Watson!

The Sherlock Holmes pub sits on 10-11 Northumberland Street (quite far from Baker’s Street) and is a little kitschy maybe, but it certainly gives out a pretty authentic vibe which comes with an enthusiastic service and some very generous helping of the food. The dishes are named after terms and adages picked out the Holmes series. For instance, “The Sign of Four,” is the soup of the day. The dining room upstairs is touched with some pictures depicting striking scenes from the detective stories. The catch of the day is however, the meticulously reconstructed study decorated along the lines of the one which Holmes frequented. It gives the sense where Sherlock has just put down his cup of tea and violin, and stepped out for a while.

Sherlock Holmes Pub by mostaque

Wordsworth’s Inspiration

She indeed dwelt among the untrodden ways. And it could just as likely be this place as any of the other many delightful forests. Hampstead Heath is Eden rediscovered. But within it are groves, hidden pastures and carefully masked nooks. Actually much more than these. There is wooded glen in the western section of the heath which lies in preternatural serenity and it is impossible to envision it considering it lies just a couple of miles from central London and that too, in a park that pulls in well over seven million visitors each year.

by sjwalton.com

Unlike London’s other Royal parks which are often overly sedate, this one is marked by wild marks. The trees are not manicured and are allowed to grow unchecked, all crooked at odd angles or even fall to the ground. The fallen leaves are not cleared away no matter how worried you are about getting your shoes and shins dirty. A short walk away are the ruins of Pitt’s Garden (of the 18th century prime minister). Nothing much remains today apart from a red-brick arch apart from the freely growing woodland. A little away and across the road is Hill Garden, whose stoned paths are lined with pillars string with wisteria and roses.

London Calls.

-Debnath