Gloria

We left Paris on a Friday night. It was raining. We were taking the overnight train to Italy. Early the next morning while traveling through the Alps we entered a tunnel. A train had broken down and we smashed into it. We were trapped for four hours in the wreckage and could not speak or understand the language. We were rescued by the RED CROSS and filed through the wreckage in the dark tunnel holding hands leading each other to safety. There was a strong acrid odor. I was worried the train might explode and we would be trapped in a fire. At last we saw a light at the end of the tunnel. As we walked out of the tunnel, it was the most majestic, beautiful site. We were in the Italian Alps. Everything glisten from the rain. The sun was shining. The sky was so blue. Although we were all traumatized, we couldn't help but feel exhalted among all the beauty of the Alps. It may not have been the best way to see them but it certainly was the most awe inspiring. <BR>

joyce

My recent trips have been planned to include a "room with a view". The mountain views from my balcony room in Zermatt and in Grindelwald were awesome. I could imagine Heidi following the cows and goats from my balcony in Gruyeres. In the chalet hotel in the hills overlooking Salzburg, I was Maria singing "the hills are alive". In Durnstein(Austria) ruins of old castle, I was transported back to Medieval times as I surveyed the Danube. Taking in the sights, smells, and sounds of each place is aesthetically satisfying. Just hearing the symphony of echoing town church bells & twinkling cow bells in the country stops me in my tracks. Viewing the Schilthorn while hanging in a cable car did take my breath away! <BR>

Al

Just returned from a two month trip to Italy. I read Tom Townsend's reply to this question and I really felt a pang of nostalgia. I've seen the view he describes, and he's almost right on the money. The only difference is that he was looking the wrong way! If one goes to Naples and goes to Via Petrarch, which is the road on the Northern side of Naples, on the hill overlooking Naples, and looks south, he would be well advised to take some oxygen along. The view of Naples, the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius and the Sorrentine coastline (exactly the opposite of that which Tom Townsend describes) is BREATHTAKING. A well seasoned traveller should be familiar with the photo of the Bay of Naples. Well, to see it in person is a sight one will never forget. The poet Keats said it was the most glorious sight his eyes ever beheld. He was understating. I've been visiting the same sight for 12 years, and each time I see it, it looks like it"s the first time.

Al

Just returned from a two month trip to Italy. I read Tom Townsend's reply to this question and I really felt a pang of nostalgia. I've seen the view he describes, and he's almost right on the money. The only difference is that he was looking the wrong way! If one goes to Naples and goes to Via Petrarch, which is the road on the Northern side of Naples, on the hill overlooking Naples, and looks south, he would be well advised to take some oxygen along. The view of Naples, the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius and the Sorrentine coastline (exactly the opposite of that which Tom Townsend describes) is BREATHTAKING. A well seasoned traveller should be familiar with the photo of the Bay of Naples. Well, to see it in person is a sight one will never forget. The poet Keats said it was the most glorious sight his eyes ever beheld. He was understating. I've been visiting the same sight for 12 years, and each time I see it, it looks like it"s the first time.

Al

Just returned from a two month trip to Italy. I read Tom Townsend's reply to this question and I really felt a pang of nostalgia. I've seen the view he describes, and he's almost right on the money. The only difference is that he was looking the wrong way! If one goes to Naples and goes to Via Petrarch, which is the road on the Northern side of Naples, on the hill overlooking Naples, and looks south, he would be well advised to take some oxygen along. The view of Naples, the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius and the Sorrentine coastline (exactly the opposite of that which Tom Townsend describes) is BREATHTAKING. A well seasoned traveller should be familiar with the photo of the Bay of Naples. Well, to see it in person is a sight one will never forget. The poet Keats said it was the most glorious sight his eyes ever beheld. He was understating. I've been visiting the same sight for 12 years, and each time I see it, it looks like it"s the first time. Each time I stand there beside the railing and look at the site, the enormity of the panorama makes me feel as small as an ant.

Al

Just returned from a two month trip to Italy. I read Tom Townsend's reply to this question and I really felt a pang of nostalgia. I've seen the view he describes, and he's almost right on the money. The only difference is that he was looking the wrong way! If one goes to Naples and goes to Via Petrarch, which is the road on the Northern side of Naples, on the hill overlooking Naples, and looks south, he would be well advised to take some oxygen along. The view of Naples, the Bay of Naples, Vesuvius and the Sorrentine coastline (exactly the opposite of that which Tom Townsend describes) is BREATHTAKING. A well seasoned traveller should be familiar with the photo of the Bay of Naples. Well, to see it in person is a sight one will never forget. The poet Keats said it was the most glorious sight his eyes ever beheld. He was understating. I've been visiting the same sight for 12 years, and each time I see it, it looks like it"s the first time. Each time I stand there beside the railing and look at the site, the enormity of the panorama makes me feel as small as an ant.

sisserson

There is a group of islands off the coast of Sicily named the Eolian Islands. One island in particular - Panarea, is as close to paradise as I have ever been... <BR>One evening in particular was magical - sitting on our veranda, drinking fabulous local vino, stars vibrant in the sky, only faint sweet music audible, no traffic sounds (cars not allowed on the island), barely any lights from the island (they only received electricity about 8 years ago) and we watching the volcano blow on the neigboring island of Stomboli (yes, the same island the film was named after and filmed on). <BR>Panarea is magical, desolate, whitewashed, vibrant with color, and thoroughly intoxicating... enjoy. <BR>

Yvonne

From my 1989 trip to France: <BR>Assay le Rideau (sp?) - It was a perfect September afternoon. The sun was warm, the sky clear, I approached the chateau, its view obscured by a hedge. First you see the pond, then the chateau, built on the pond. You circle around to the front, you catch a glimpse of the structure reflected in the pond - absolutely gorgeous. Omaha beach. The long flat beach is almost featureless save the remnants of a temporary bridge built by the military and a German bunker. The view of the sea from inside the bunker must have been horrifying 50 odd years ago. Today the entire beach can't leave one anything but moved, gasping for breath. <BR>

darin

I have to concur with those who mentioned Chartres-- it is beautiful, as is Chennonceaux,Reims, Santorini, Hania (Crete), Old town in Rhodes, San Sebastian, Checkpoint Charlie, Prague in general and the church where Mozart played the organ on Sundays, the sunset in Oia, but for me without a doubt, the single most thing which took my breath away was Running with the Bulls in Pamplona !!!!!!!! <BR>

Sherrie Miller

I'd like to comment on a breathtaking experience that my husband had as a teenager in Switzerland that he still talks about 50 years later. <BR> <BR>He was staying near Geneva with a group of students who were to go on a night hike up the mountain, leaving at 12:00 midnight and hiking for 6 hours to the top of the mountain for sunrise. On the way up, they witnessed a meteor shower that occurs in August every year around August 15th. He said the sky was so clear and so full of stars and then the meteor shower started with one after another, after another of meteors dancing across the night sky and continued with one after another falling stars until daylight. <BR> <BR>My husband still remembers this sight as the most beautiful thing he has ever seen and I hope to go back to Switzerland around August 15th, just to witness this same thing. <BR> <BR>The most beautiful sight I ever saw was again in Switzerland when we staying in the small town of Lungern, near Lucern. They call Lungern, the heart of Switzerland because it is right in the middle. We were there because of a Cosmos tour that stayed outside of Lucern, for their "Lucern" nights. We had planned to stay an extra 2 days after the trip ended in Lucern and I was disappointed to find out the hotel wasn't IN Lucern but out of town. However, we were there to enjoy ourselves and make the most of it, so we walked around the little town and followed the signs to the cable car sight. After having a picnic near a waterfall, we took the cable car ride to view the scene from the mountain. What a surprise we were in for. The ride took 3 changes of cable cars to reach the top. On the way, after passing the level that the swiss cows were on, you could hear their bells tinkling long after you couldn't see the cows anymore. The sound was wonderful. Then we arrived at the top of the mountain range. It was magnificant. It was in the first week of July and the weather was warm and comfortable. The panoramic scene of the alps, while strolling through the alpine flowers all around was something I will always remember. It was magnificant and fun because there was so much room to hike and explore while viewing the breathtaking view of the Alps. I was glad Cosmos booked us in this town after all. Because if they didn't, we would have missed this wonderful experience. <BR>

wes fowler

Hi, Sally, <BR>(For the benefit of Fodor contributors, Sally and I are neither related nor married to one another.) <BR> <BR>Many first sights have taken my breath away; one in particular is etched deep in my memory. Phillip II's El Escorial; the stained glass windows of Saint Chapelle in Paris; sun beaming on the snow covered Matterhorn; the riotous Bavarian Baroque ornamentation of Wieskirche; the Grand' Place in Brussels; Saint Mark's Plaza in Venice; the head of the horse in the display of Elgin marbles in the British Museum; the provincial hall in Leuven, Belgium and the canal houses of Amsterdam have all made breath-taking initial impressions. <BR> The most memorable and breath-taking experience, however, occurred over thirty years ago in a small room in the Hotel Biron in Paris, now the Rodin Museum. There, in the center of a sun filled room, was the exquisite marble figure of a Danaid. Her body, less than half full size, lay in lovely repose in an almost fetal position. Her shoulders and back teemed with the sensuous curves of flesh covering bone and muscle. I touched her back and recoiled at the shock of its human warmth; the midday sun, of course, had tricked my senses by warming the marble. A lovely Danaid with a sad and tragic story. Camille Claudel posed for Rodin as the Danaid in 1885. She became his model, mistress and in her own rights a masterful sculptress. <BR>While still a young woman, abandoned by Rodin, she slowly lost her senses and was committed to an asylum where she remained, never to sculpt again, until her death well over fifty years later <BR>

Donna

One: In Norway, one full day of breathtaking experiences was almost too much to take: train ride for 4 hours from sea level up to the mountaintops, then an hour train ride down the mountain into Flam, strolling about Flam until getting onto the small ship for the awesome trip through the fjords to Ballestrand. <BR>Boat drops us off at the dock for our overnight stay at Kvickne Hotel, then picks us up next morning for the remainder of trip through the fjords. <BR>What I remember most is the cool, crisp air, the fjord all around us, the sun almost not going down (late May stays up past 11 p.m.). Awesome, and not manmade. <BR> <BR>Two: walking up the hillside looking all around for Neuschwanstein, and then just over my shoulder, there it was! <BR> <BR>Three: That first look at Venice after the long train ride from Milan. Second look from the balcony at my hotel. Third look from the Campanile. Fourth look at daybreak as the gondolas move up and down at the edge of the water. Fifth look as I'm leaving: was I really there? <BR> <BR>Four: Ireland and one of the old abbeys, near Cong, open for all to climb on the ruins, no fences or gates or toll to pay to get in. Then, the stone circle by Killarney, in a downpour of rain. <BR> <BR>Okay, thanks for the relaxing respite in the middle of a crazy stock market.

Peter

There are many, but one in particular stands out. It was in Fonzaso, the main village in which my fathers village is a fraction (suburb?) of in Belluno, Italy. <BR> Approx. 800m up a 1000m peak in the Dolomites which overshadow Fonzaso (which is about 300m up) is a small monastry. The only way up is by foot and you can't get into the monastry, but, outside the monastry is a small disused chapel no more than 3m x 3m. I was standing in the chapel looking at the painting of Christ in front above the altar when I looked up at the ceiling. <BR> Painted on the ceiling was a triangle (representing the holy trinity) with an eye in the middle of it. Now, I am not in the least religious, but, when I looked at that eye it felt as if it were real and staring right through me. I got shivers down my spine. <BR> According to my father the monastry has been there for approx. 1000 years and was originally a holiday home for some nobility. The hole valley was full of water and the only access was by boat. There are actually rust marks as if there had been mooring rings there. A few hundred years ago there were huge floods which destroyed whatever was holding the water back. The valley emptied and the villagers moved down into the valley where the best soil was. <BR> At least that is my fathers version of it. True or not I don't know, but, the penetrating eye is there.

Doug

The chapel of St. Chapelle on the Ile de la Cite in Paris, at sundown, with a chamber orchestra playing Vivaldi as the sun goes haywire on the unbelievable stained glass walls. No one should miss this church at sundown, even if you have to pay to hear a concert like we did. It closes at 6:30 in September and sunset is later. Of many unbelievable sights in France and Italy, this was the one I'll never forget. <BR> <BR>

Bill Irving

I have had many breath taking experiences, in the Alps, on towers, castles & other man made structures, but there is 1 that sticks out most for me. Maybe because it was my 1st trip to Europe & my 1st trip to Edinburgh, but getting in to Edinburgh about 6am on the overnight train. I went to the top of Calton Hill, before any buses were even close to the place. Looking out over the Firth of Fourth, & looking the other way towards old Edinburgh through the morning mist & the sun coming up, that is the best breath taking view, to date, that I have seen. I have been back to Edinburgh 2 more times & I made it a point to go to the top of Calton Hill, & it is still the same for me, until buses get there. <BR>

mark

Wow! What a great post. As a skier, my fondest memories of the Alps. Here are some: the shear awesome beauty of the Dolomites in Val Gardena, my first glimpse of the Alps in the morning at St. Anton, Austria, the Sistine Chapel and Mich. David, the architecture of Brugges, taking a twilight gondola ride in Venice during my honeymoon, standing atop the Kaprun Glacier in Austria, 11,500 feet up, looking down on Zell am See. <BR>

Wendy

Standing inside Notre Dame for the first <BR>time and seeing the light pour through thoes windows is something I will always remember. They really do take your breath away. <BR>

Ed

My best memories are: <BR>Laying in bed with floor to ceiling windows ovrlooking Hong Kong harbor. It was impossible to sleep! <BR>Drivig towards Mont St. Michel in a light rain at dusk as all the lights from the island outlined it. <BR>Walking around in the Parthenon in Athens(you could still do this 20 years ago). <BR>The view of Machu Pichu form the caretakers hut. <BR>Finally, the first sight of Winged Victory in the Louvre. It was spectacular. <BR>

Nils

This summer I visited the mountain area of "Rondane" in central Norway. The majestic mountains, the unique colours, the silence and tranquillity: My wife and I were overwhelmed. The great norwegian author Aasmund Olavson Vinje has written a poem called "At Rondane" and the famous composer Edvard Grieg has composed the melody. I will never forget "Rondane". Sometimes you can have the most breathtaking experiences in your own country. I also agree with the above writer that Flaam and the Sognefjord are great. Nils <BR>

gina

Throwing open the shutters in a room full of delicate frescoed ceiling (#4 I think) at Villa Terraia to a Lorenzetti view of the countryside over curvaceous hills to Siena 3 miles away. <BR> <BR>Having struggled off the vaporetto with a big bag on my first trip to Venice on a misty February evening to arrive at a completely deserted Piazza San Marco. Lit by gentle lamps, huge echoey space, just someone's clicking heels walking fast and cold across the top by the Duomo reminded me I hadn't gone to heaven! <BR> <BR>Enough, basta. But Italy's like that! <BR>