From a thin slice of fertile land that extends into the lakes of Lithuania’s southeast, wooden jetties push into the still water dangling narrow fishing boats and colourful pedalos.
A large, friendly zebra carefully took the hand of a small child before looking both ways along a hectic main road. Then, calmly and upright, the pair began to cross to the backdrop of angry horns and revving engines. Once safe, the animal left the child and turned to repeat the process with someone else.
Puno is an unremarkable town in southern Peru. It has some dreary tower blocks, a mall of sorts and, from personal experience, a shabby restaurant on a side street somewhere that cooks amazing fried rice.
“Give me your simplest fish”. I chirped nervously as I rolled onto the leather couch. In a narrow Cusco street I’d decided to get my first, and incidentally, my only tattoo.
From across the dark water, it looked like fairy lights had been flung against the jagged mountain slopes. Forming arcs and triangles, occasionally broken by backlit towers, Kotor’s twinkles put on quite the show. “You see…” Slavko my guide explained, “The lights form the shape of an old man. He guards this city”.