The pewter gray sky, awash with early morning mist, did nothing to dampen our spirits as we left the sprawling city of Antalya on Turkey’s Mediterranean coast.
Our search for antiquity would take us northwest into the imposing Taurus Mountains, through fragrant pine forests, steeply upward along twisting switchbacks, then nose-diving in sharp descents and flattening into broad fertile valleys on our trek toward the Aegean Sea.
The rough-hewn stone steps to the whitewashed Church of Santo Thomás were covered with stacks of pottery, wood carvings, towering piles of richly-colored textiles, and perfect flowers. Graceful calla lilies, gladiolas, flame-colored feathery ornamentals and exquisite roses in tight-budded bunches perfumed the warm morning air.
At the top of the steps incense billowed from low pots, filling the air with a resiny scent and smoky haze. Across the square, a bonfire blurred the stairs of its companion church, El Calvario. The two edifices appeared poised in a stony face-off, adding to the surrealism of the scene.
Not many travelers know about Steinhatchee, an unpretentious little town on the Gulf Coast of Florida where the state bends south from the Panhandle and swoops toward the bustle of Tampa.
That part of the state is sparsely populated, networked with hundreds of miles of country roads sheltered by cypress and cedar trees draped in Spanish moss and crisscrossed with rivers that meander lazily through vast reaches of sea grass toward the Gulf of Mexico.
If you have never been to San Antonio, Texas during the annual Fiesta San Antonio, I have three words of advice: Go! Go! Go!
Every year during the month of April, this picturesque south Texas city with a rich heritage blows the doors off with a 10-day citywide extravaganza packed with sparkling events, remarkable food and music, culturally-significant activities, lavish parades showcasing more royalty than you’ll see in London in a month, and hoot-and-hollerin’ foot-stomping fun.
