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The Martun

The Martun (Toilet) Restaurant in Kaohsiung, Taiwan has given new meaning to the words, "comfort room". Glass-topped sinks serve as tables, diners eat from toilet bowl shaped platters, urinal sconces light up the room, knick knacks of and about toilets are displayed prominently, and the open toilet is next to your toilet seat. Bon appetit! For more info http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8417691/

Head Turning Sculptures

The sculptures of Igor Mitoraj were no less breathtaking than the backdrop, the snow capped mountains surrounding the city of Granada. What a lucky break to have seen the exhition of selected ouevres by Mitoraj, a sculptor of Polish descent, schooled in Krakow and Paris and now divides his time between Italy and France. His works, not surprisingly as you can see from these images, turned a lot of heads. * * * Images by Rosario Charie Albar

Ah, Yosemite

When I first laid eyes on Half Dome, I had a frog in my throat. I thought of the artist whose hand sculpted it, painted the landscape with towering trees, sketched waterfalls and streams where his pets could quench their thirst and drew expansive meadows where they could frolic under big, blue skies. Ah, but there’s more to feast your eyes on in this great museum of nature but you’ll have to go and pick the artwork you like best. www.nps.gov/yose Images by Rosario Charie Albar

Images of Portugal

For far too long Portugal has taken a backseat to its neighbors. This has proved to be a windfall for the visitor who happens by. There is so much to explore in the land from whence great explorers set forth on their voyages to the then unknown world. Now travelers are discovering the quiet simplicity and unspoiled charm of this unassuming country which has as much, if not more, to offer the discerning traveler. ***** Images by TravelswithCharie

Images of Lisbon

Venice is a Visual Feast

To write about Venice is to tell only half the story. For Venice is a sensory feast. It is not easy to convey in words all that it offers. Rather it must be experienced. How do I explain what I felt on seeing it for the first time? I heard the bora fiercely making its way across the islands drowning the alto voce of the gondolier. I hungrily followed the scent of freshly baked pastries in the early morning hours when the locals were still dreaming in bed. And I got hopelessly lost in the labyrinthine alleys only to find myself in a quiet piazza only a stone's throw from the hordes of visitors in Piazza San Marco. Venice seeps through the bones leaving an indelible impression.

Foreign and Irresistible

Michaelangelo's David is quite a man! Thank goodness he's in a museum. There are enough hunks out there to add spice to travel. My friend Vero fell for the tour guide she met on a Nile cruise. The best part is that he liked her too. But there's more. He is at least 15 years younger! Sweeeeet! My favorite romantic writer, Marlena de Blasi, met her husband while traveling in Venice. I love her story about their first meeting (he called her from a phone in the restaurant where she and her friends were eating), his trip to the U.S. to see her, how she gave up her successful career and moved to Venice, Italy and spent "A Thousand Days in Venice" followed by "A Thousand Days in Tuscany". A solo woman traveler I met on a bus tour of Europe several years back was having an affair with the bus driver. She couldn't understand why he chose her among the other ladies in our tour group. But she was glad he did. She was having the best time discovering Europe with

The Court of the Lions

The real beauty of the Court of the Lions lies in the harmonious co-existence of three religious architectural influences. At the center of the courtyard is a fountain with 12 lions, representing the twelve tribes of Judah. Exquisite columns form a cloister surrounding the courtyard, a typical feature in cathedrals and monasteries throughout Europe. Geometric patterns in the traditional Mudejar style decorate the rooms. Much of the bright, rich colors of the tiles have survived to this day. Looking across the courtyard, I can understand the lagrimas of Boabdil, the last Sultan, who was exiled to Africa after the Spaniards reconquered Granada. How often had he gazed at this courtyard and appreciated the symmetry of the columns, inhaled the sweet scent of oranges that are a staple in these parts, was lulled to sleep by the tinkling of water from the fountain and awoke reinvigorated in the coolness of his opulent surroundings. Asi es la vida. * * * Image by Rosario Charie Albar

Stumbling upon my Roots

I was idly browsing in the souvenir section of Madrid's El Corte Ingles when I stumbled upon my roots. There amongst tacky mementos and beautiful damascene jewelry, I found the coat of arms of my grandmother's family. According to the brief history written on the wooden plaque, the Barrios family came from Guipúzcoa in the Basque region of Spain. In succeeding years they branched out to the province of Burgos and established a new ancestral seat. The Barrios clan belonged to an old and noble dynasty. When the King of Spain set out to reconquer Granada from the Moors in the late 15th century, the Barrios gentlemen accompanied him. This bit of history came as a surprise to me because I was on my way to Granada to see the legendary Alhambra. My journey was transformed.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Royal Palace

By Rosario Charie Albar There I was, only on my second day in Madrid and shopping already. I had a good excuse though. I needed to buy some pantyhose because I had brought only 2 pairs for a 10-day trip. And it was freezing cold. On approach to Madrid’s Barajas airport, I could see the countryside blanketed in white. Local television reported on various accidents caused by foul weather. They also showed weekend vacationers who were stuck for hours on their way to ski resorts because the roads were closed from heavy snowfall. The salesgirl at El Corte Ingles was very helpful. I told her I needed the thickest pantyhose they sold and she showed me two dif ferent kinds made by a famous French designer. On examining them, the 11-euro pantyhose was much thicker than the 8-euro one so I decided to buy the former. I wanted to kick myself for forgetting to buy nylons at home where it is far cheaper. The salesgirl congratulated me for choosing a really good pair and what’s more, she added, it wa