Not “Just Archaeology”

By Destination Manager Sara W. Barbieri

Yes, our trips are about archaeology, but they are also about so much more. They are about making connections. About being surprised – daring to be open, curious and enquiring. Whether it is a face that catches your eye as you meander through alleys in the Kahn el Khalili souk or a blue kingfisher taking flight from a reed top to skim over the Ganges, our trips are about the details: a tree casting its shadow on an apricot-colored wall, the drape of a hot pink sari, the watchful eye of a camel. Whether learning about Ganesha or Darius, Attaturk or apsaras, this dynasty or that empire, we broaden and expand almost to the point of bursting. A trip is a flock of green parrots, our bus traveling down a stretch of road looking out on fields of gleaming yellow mustard, a throng of school children. One day you talk to a shopkeeper and forge a connection, the next you sit with a fellow participant at dinner and begin a friendship that lasts beyond the journey. There is the mosque and the pagoda, the mullah and the farmer, rickshaws and tuk tuks, galabeyas and hijabs. There is dust and mud, cobblestones and highways, always potholes and often traffic streaming by. There is the cacophony of cities, there are the rivers, deserts, valleys and white peaks. And there is the silence.

And one of my favorite “details” is the food: a window into the heart of people everywhere. On almost every street in every land there is an enticing aroma, a tempting tidbit awaiting you. Even if you don’t have the cast iron stomach that will allow you to taste all you see, the chaat and the chai, the fried tarantulas or the “sundaes” made with sweetened yogurt and shaved ice, you can still indulge in the feast. Watch what they are cooking, mixing, patting, shaping, scooping. See the colors and the textures. Notice the shapes and sizes of the ovens. Watch their hands. I’m completely captivated by faludeh (rice noodles with lime juice and rosewater - divine). Who says there is too much lamb in Western China? Every kebab is a little different, the mixture of spices like a fingerprint. Or, there is grilled pigeon (don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it). Goat’s foot soup – okay, I admit, not my favorite. Ladoo. The sweet offering at the Temple to Krishna in Jaipur. Ah, fesenjun, kofte, halvah. There is so much more to traveling with Far Horizons than “just archaeology”…