One of the things we always remember from our trips is food. Everybody knows that Paris tastes of croissant and quiche lorraine, Mexico makes our tongue burn, Lima means fresh ceviche and in Brazil, it is necessary to dring coconut milk to quench our thirst. Even though we can drink Caipirinhas in New York or eat thai food in Santiago, nothing is the same as the own taste of every town.
We already feel the smell. In some neighbourhoods we smell the fresh jasmine of the country; in others we can see the bloom of colourful wisteria. Even, at downtown city, air seems to be softer, more promising, almost provocative. Skin gains timidly ground on clothes: an arm here, a calf there, maybe feet get free from boots. Behind the skin, here come the glances, conversations, meetings.
The third edition of the FILBA (International Festival of Literature of Buenos Aires) is taking place until the 18th of September, with more than 70 foreign and Argentine guests and 48 activities among debates, lectures, performances, interviews and workshops.
Prisoner in Genoa, Marco Polo wrote an account of his expeditions for which he was to be famous for at least seven more centuries. Richard Francis Burton, in 1851, performed the sacred pilgrimage of Muslims to Mecca, under disguise and with risk of death. Throughout his life, he explored Africa, America and Asia and learned some 25 languages. In between, he published over 30 books on his travels.
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