 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
“This is indeed India; the land of dreams and romance, of fabulous wealth and fabulous poverty, of splendor and rags, of palaces and hovels, of famine and pestilence, of genii and giants and Aladdin lamps, of tigers and elephants, the cobra and the jungle, the country of a thousand nations and a hundred tongues, of a thousand religions and two million gods, cradle of the human race, birthplace of human speech, mother of history, grandmother of legend, great-grandmother of tradition, whose yesterdays bear date with the mouldering antiquities of the rest of the nations—the one sole country under the sun that is endowed with an imperishable interest for alien prince and alien peasant, for lettered and ignorant, wise and fool, rich and poor, bond and free, the one land that all men desire to see, and having seen once, by even a glimpse, would not give that glimpse for the shows of all the rest of the globe combined.”—Mark Twain, Following the Equator, 1897
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The Acropolis, Athens, Greece
Courtesy of The Daniel Wolf Collection |
Benares Vishnu Pud and other Temples near the Burning Ghat in India
Courtesy of The George Eastman House |
|
Twain’s First Appearance
in Calcutta
|
|
 |
Real Audio: 56k
“Preferring an Elephant” |
|
|
|
|
|
In Bermuda with Isabel Lynn
Courtesy of The Mark Twain Project, Bancroft Library, Berkeley |
|
Excursion During the
Quaker City Tour
Courtesy of The Mark Twain Project,
Bancroft Library, Berkeley |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
“Days passed—and nights; and then the beautiful Bermudas rose out of the sea, we entered the tortuous channel, steamed hither and thither among the bright summer islands, and rested at last under the flag of England and were welcome. We were not a nightmare here, where were civilization and intelligence in place of Spanish and Italian superstition, dirt and dread of cholera. A few days among the breezy groves, the flower gardens, the coral caves, and the lovely vistas of blue water that went curving in and out, disappearing and anon again appearing through jungle walls of brilliant foliage, restored the energies dulled by long drowsing on the ocean, and fitted us for our final cruise—our little run of a thousand miles to New York—America—HOME.”—Mark Twain, The Innocents Abroad, 1869
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
