Everybody knows that Alicia isn't only a singer. She's also a great writer. She created NY Daily newspaper column titled 'Notes from the road'. Here you can read her articles.

Dazzled by Dubai - 18 July 2004
When I recieved the invitation to visit Dubai, my first question was one of naivete: Where is it? Can you really blame me? I am just a city girl. Ask me where Chelsea Piers is, I can tell you. Ask me where the Cloisters are, I can tell you. But Dubai? That's a whole 'nother ball game.
After doing some investigation on my own, I determined the Dubai is a city of fortune and business in the United Arab Emirates-a small Middle Eastern country just across the Persian Gulf from Iraq, yet untouched by the wreckage and despair of war. I had only been painted a one-sided picture of the Middle East. But since I am a rebel at heart, as all city girls are, I accepted the invitation and off I went.

Getting there wasn't easy. My band and I took a seven-hour flight from New York to London and then, after a two-hour layover, we took another seven hour flight. When we finally arrived at Dubai International Airport, we found ourselves in one the most beautiful airports I've ever passes through. Mahogany and shiny silver accents everywhere. Big stairs and elevators built as if they had a prince in mind, Everything was just so. Immediately, I felt a difference - a certain respect for custom, for presentation and hospitality. We took about a 30-minute drive to the Shangri-La Hotel. Driving through the night, I couldnt see any landscape, but arriving at the hotel sure gave me a sense of the investment made in the hotel industry. Awaiting us were a welcoming committee and at least five secuirty men, I got out of the car feeling completely underdressed in my jeans and hat pulled low over my eyes.

They were nothing but gracious and led me up to my suite, which occupied the entire top floor of the hotel across from a small gym, pool and sunbathing area. When they opened the doors to my suite for the first time, the vision was breathtaking. A 2-floor palatial beauty straight out of the pages of the best architectural design magazine. There were marble floors, silver accents, and large, floor-to cieling, dark wood doors covered with rich brown leather and huge silver handles.

Massive windows were everywhere and from the living room to the dining room was a long stretchof space you could do pirouettes across. I tried to put on my best look of cool approval and not show too much goofy excitememnt, but it was the most babulous place i'd ever seen! All this excitement and I hadnt even left the hotel yet.
My favorite place in the whole suite, besides of course the Jacuzzi in my bathroom, was the wrap-around patio that looked out upon a sea of lights. in the morning would see that it was an oasis-75% of all the buildings were still under construction. From the terrace, more than one of our guides during our stay pointed out the location where they were building the tallest building in the world. I gazed down on the beginnings of that structure and felt their excitement and pride in their city.
Luckily, I'd come to Dubai with a few days to spare before my gig and I made sure I had enough time to explore. The beach was my first destination, as I am a mermaid at heart. The water was a clear, bluish-green and shallow 80 degrees. I just sat in the middle of it and felt the warmth and I mean warmth. It was heaven!
I noticed they offered water-skiing and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to try something new. The gentleman who took us out was a young, strong, light-skinned man from Africa. He told us he was a surfer and that the only thing he missed in Dubai was the waves. Our instructor took us far out on a boat to different sets of islands and a big deep area of the ocean so we could try water-skiing. Let me just say you're definitely gonna fall at least twice - but it's so much fun to be a fool.
We had other adventures as well. We went dune-bashing in the desert (which puts roller coasters to shame), and then camel-riding, which was quite an experience. The camels were tethered together and knelt down on command as we crawled on. We held on for dear life as we were led around a large circle.

Then we had a traditional Middle Eastern dinner under the stars (the best falafel on the planet), had beautiful designs drawn on our skin with henna (much better than tattoos, especially for the ladies), listened to live traditional music and enjoyed a belly dancer (yes, I tried it!). It was a night I will never forget. I left Dubai feeling the intrigue that the creators of "Aladdin" must have felt - a place rich in tradition and history, kindness and magic. I felt like there was so much goodness to discover in a world that is mostly painted for Westerners as just the enemy (but that's a whole different column). Mostly I felt proud that I wasn't too afraid to try something new. Like every city girl should!

The Magic of France - 01 August 2004
Every time I've heard about France, it's always about the 'magic of Paris.' I have spent hours and hours trying to identify that magic, thinking it was something that i would discover just by being there, but it is more that that. And although Paris is beautiful, magical city, France is not defined solely by a city itself: Paris, Lyon, Nice. It's something more.

The magic of France was first revealed to me in a seemingly ordinary thing called the French accent. I had only seen France out of hotel windows or from a moving car, so it was the accent that I could connect to most. I can't deny it: it is the most sensual accent in the world and it was the sound of spoken French that made the country so dazzling to me. Hearing an English question translated into français allowed me to understand how language can be a song: The way the French are so attentive to detail; the way they are drenched in sophistication, style, grace and glamour; the way they serve small chopped-up black olives that look like caviar but taste even better while asking you what your aperitif will be is endearing. The way the z's blend and the r's roll over so slightly made me imagine all kinds of mystical words being whispered in my ear on a hot summer evening's stroll, while my mind ran wild with tantalizing thought about what a night with a sophisticated Frenchman could hold.

A PERSONAL JOURNEY
Since then, I've discovered that the legendary romance that's become synonymous with France is not atop the Eiffel Tower or in the bakeries filled with hot baguettes, inside le Louvre or on a stroll down the Champs-Elysees.

It isn't in the sidewalk cafes that serve cafe au laits or even the marinas with their bobbing yachts framed by the ocean's easy waters or the archaic structures recalling Old World culture. It isn't at the ballet or in the secret village of Eze, where the streets are made of ancient stone dating back to 500 B.C., neither is it in the depths of the Mediterranean Sea that feels like satin when you swim in it.

Wait, who am I kidding? That is the magic of France - all of it. I realized that the reason I couldn't find the magic before was because I was only looking for it in one place.
I couldn't find it going from one box to another. I couldn't find it on a 10-minute break from an interview. And I'd NEVER find it after a long show on a long bus ride to the next city.
All this time it's been right there in front of me, just waiting for me to be open enough (and have enough time) to walk through its wonder and feel it. The elusive magic that I've finally found is in the personal experience of France-and each person's is different. It's in the discovery. The silent moments in places you've only heard about. It's in the special words of the people you find there.
The way their lips move and the way a soft French voice can mesmerize your ears and your heart. All of these are the romance of France. It's not just down one particular street. It cannot be contained in one tiny place. And somewhere between "Bonjour" and "Bonne nuit" lies the unknown mystery of all there is to find. It is all the magic you could ever hope to discover. It is everywhere!

Free Spirit - 29 August 2004
Spain is one of those places that just feels good. The language alone can make you feel like you've arrived in the most exotic place on Earth. The people's spirits are free - they will sleep in tents on the beach, or with just the stars as their roof. They will go topless or nude on the beach and see it as liberating, not embarrassing. When they love you, it's loyally and whole-heartedly.

I first fell in love with Spain in Madrid, after being invited to a special place known as "cave". There, I was introduced to the passionate world of flamenco. The guitars' melodies and rhythms were intertwined in a way I'd never before experienced. Hands clapped - off-again, on-again - with syncopations that left me bewildered. The flamenco voice dug into my soul like a knife dripping with blood from a crime of passion. And the dancing - wow! I've never seen men dancing so honestly and sensually in my life.

That was my introduction to Spain, and I thought it couldn't get any better. Then we arrived in Barcelona. One of the first things I noticed was the way they say my name - it's a complete turn-on. Some locals pronounce the "c" in Alicia like "th". Barcelona sounds like "Barthilona" and Alicia becomes "Alithia". I don't know if that will translate as beautifully on paper as it does in real life, but I will come to Spain for the rest of my life just to hear them say my name.

Another thing I fell in love with in Barcelona was the constant feeling that everything was absolutely perfect. The sun is blinding and warms you deeply; the water is transparent and shines with the sun's reflection. The beach has the kind of soft sand that's so good for running barefoot in. The architecture is grand and historic. And it's all there like a playground waitin to be explored.

A world in a village
I performed in a village, actually a town square built between 1926 and 1929, called "Poble Espanyol". There, in just a couple of hours, it is possible to visit a living watercolor of the 17 nationalities and regions that make up one of the most fascinating countries of the European Union, through handicraft markets, cultural displays, samples of food and folk shows. When we walked in, it looked like a montage of many wonderlands. It was beautiful and very different from anything I'd ever seen or anywhere I'd ever performed. The stage was set in the middle of a wide, open space outlined by eclectic shops. I looked out onto little apartments with beautifully carved wood windows and doors that opened up toward the stage. Around the square were cobblestone streets leading to stone steps that took you to these special shops and people. It felt like a place forgotten by time - in a sense, it was like a fairy tale. At that moment, I knew it was going to be a special show. There's nothing like performing outside, with the air all around you. You feel so much more open to the possibilities, and that's exactly what Barcelona is - open and exciting, a place where anything is possible.
After an incredible show that made me want to stay on stage all night, I met a friend I'd known when we were young girls in America who had since moved to Spain. She and her friends looked so content and bright that I actually found myself wondering if I could live here, leave New York behind and settle into a life of freedom from stress and cold winters, a place of new discoveries. Leave the rat race and the fast pace behind... Before we left, I took some time to say goodbye to the beach. It was about 1:30 a.m. and the water was calm and the beach was still except for a few people playing guitar to the moon and some lovers staring intently into each other's eyes, excited at the possibility of lying together in the open air that whispered a song. I looked around and remembered one more time the reason why I love Barcelona so. I love the freedom I feel from the people there, the carefree lifestyle, oblivion almost - it made me relax under the night sky and smile. But not enough to leave New York.

Why we ought to travel even more after 9/11 - 12 September 2004
On that particular day, like any girl who was up too late in the city the night before, I was curled up in a tangle of sheets trying my damnedest to pull myself out of bed.
It was about 9 a.m. and I had been going strong over the last couple of months, so I was tired.
I remember the phone was ringing, that annoying kind of ring, constant and steady and persistent! I knew I had to get out of bed, and I figured it was a wakeup call to double-check I hadn't overslept. I put my feet on the ground and groggily made my way to the living room. The phone kept ringing, but I wasn't ready to speak yet. Instead I turned on the TV for some background noise as I was trying to get myself together. Who won't stop calling? And why?! I sat down on the couch.
The news was everywhere. The planes.
The towers.
The flames.
I know I don't need to say more, especially to a New Yorker.
I watched in confusion. Stunned, my eyes filling with a pool of helpless tears. Why?! I couldn't fully register the impact of that moment. Did any of us? I just knew I wasn't going anywhere that day. None of us was.
I don't want to go into too much more detail about the actual day or days that followed. The panic, the fury, the beginning of a new world as we know it in many ways. I think we have all gone over it a million times, in a million different ways. We still do.
We always will. All of us, all around the world, experienced that day in a way that will never be erased. Ever! Possibly, it has never been clearer that we were all living through history. I remember feeling vividly closer to understanding the way that life is for people everywhere else, in those far-away places we are told to feel so threatened by.
Blown to dust. Disheveled. Ruined. Destroyed.
That was New York three years ago.
Watching New York unite was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I've lived here my whole life and have always witnessed the dog-eat-dog mentality, the rat race. Even been a part of it. Who hasn't?
I mean, that's part of the thrill, the driving force of New York City. It's part of what makes us completely different from anywhere else in the world. No one seems to be more determined or more focused than New Yorkers. Nobody cares about the glory of success as much as we do. So watching us put that pride to the side and show compassion and sensitivity, sharing tears and memories, making promises of living life more completely was like suddenly, we got it.
What we all share
Traveling the world now, I notice that the places I visit have people with the same faces as me, the same broken hearts over the state of the world, the same hope that we will look past our physical differences and see the power in our unity. I love traveling even more now, because I feel like I can see with my own eyes what's really going on.
I feel like more than ever, we aren't so damn different. In fact, we are all very much the same. We are all just people trying to find our way out here, looking to find freedom in its many different forms.
But what about now?
We can't just sit back and let history happen to us and not be a part of changing it. It's important that we learn more and question more, that we become more actively involved in our lives, more than just day-to-day work, food and fun and the bubbles of selfishness that we call life. We need to care about a different kind of race — the human race.
To me, that's what the anniversary of 9/11 means. The numbers represent the emergency, the urgency. One of its effects, I believe, was to make us alert, aware, to wake us up! All of us! From the Middle East to the Mediterranean, from Africa to New York.
We're awake now. So, what are we going to do about it?
Contrary to popular belief, I feel now it's even more important to continue to travel. Go where you've never been before. Visit the world to see the way different people live, what they think and believe, so we can draw our own conclusions and become closer as a human race. If we stay where it's "safe," we'll fall for what anyone tells us to. I may be a dreamer, but I believe in us. I don't care what anyone wants me to think, I know now more than ever, we need each other and if we stay together, I have faith in what the future will bring.

Jazzed up on Montreux - 3 October 2004
The Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland, ahh... what an experience!
Going to Switzerland was a nice change because the sun was there to welcome us. (For some reason, no matter what time of year it is, there are certain parts of Europe that always seem to be freezing cold.) The way the mountains and water met each other all along the street was so much like a painting — it was beautiful. The streets were electric with people excited about the festivities. And me, I was just hanging out of my window entranced, thinking about how many incredible people and artists had been here before me. As I gazed out onto the streets, I wondered how people must have looked and dressed and seemed to somebody like Miles Davis when he played here.
We were invited up to the house (or chateau, as it is known here) of Claude Nobs, who founded the festival in 1967. He lives in the mountains and, if the view was incredible from my hotel room down below, I can't even begin to explain the view from up above.
The mountains were immense. The sun was so warm, and every single chair and hammock was turned to face the vast view, forcing you to reflect as you looked out onto the water and hills. Everywhere you turned looked like a painting, as if you were merely a vision by an artist from above. (Which we are, but you really felt it here!) It made me see how differently you can view life, depending on how you live it. Up there, I felt the beauty of the world and the way it can clear your mind. That's only some of the point, the rest is what it left me feeling . . . I don't know, let me try to explain.
Mr. Nobs has an unbelievable archive of all the people who have ever performed at the Montreux Jazz Festival. It's incredible! For every person that has ever graced the stage, from Miles Davis to Marvin Gaye, Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles to Nina Simone (and that's just to name a few), he has historic footage that you will never see anywhere else. He played us Aretha Franklin's 1971 performance, and it was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. She had to be about 23 years old. She was a baby, and singing and playing the piano with all her heart. You felt her spirit leap off the screen into your lap.

Spirit of '76
But for me, the most amazing performance was Nina Simone's in 1976. She had just come back from Africa, and you could feel her anger and intense feelings about the way musicians, especially black musicians, were treated. She obviously felt ambivalence about the way people in general were treated during that time and all that was going on in America. You could tell she felt as if she didn't really belong anywhere. But her playing . . . oh, my goodness, her playing! She played the piano as if her life depended on it. Her fluidity was incredible. Her expression was genuine and real and deep, and it was something that ripped through my whole core! I couldn't catch my breath. All the times I wished I could have seen some of my favorite artists who are no longer here, to see the way they did it, what their approach was — that day, I was looking directly at it. I was mesmerized and inspired beyond belief.
It got me thinking about artists back then, how serious they were about their craft. How artists like Nina Simone, James Baldwin and Langston Hughes thought. They had things to say and opinions about what was going on around them, about things that others were afraid to discuss. They embraced the challenge and said what the people were thinking but never had the voice to express. They were the leaders of a generation that needed to be heard. They were unafraid and unfazed by fame or money, caring only for the message and standing their ground, creating their own freedom.

The quest within
Switzerland that day was like a revelation to me. It affected me in such a deep way. It made me want to be remembered for things like that. Important things. I am still finding my way like we all are, but I want to search deeper and be remembered for being different, for being unafraid to be vocal and active. For being strong and standing for something that endures. I went back to my hotel and played my piano like I never had before!
In Montreux, I experienced a whole new world, a historic world I'll never forget, and, in my own way, I can now say I'm a part of. Of all the places I've been, it is one of the most beautiful. The painting that is Switzerland is glorious — what a world to discover.
Next year's Montreux Jazz Festival runs from July 1-16. For more information, log on to www.montreuxjazz.com.