Exotic . . . dramatic . . . otherworldly. English writer and poet Rudyard Kipling's name is synonymous with rare adventure and destinations literally simmering with intrigue.

Yet surprisingly the large, many-chimneyed manor where he spent the last 34 years of his life sits outside a village in quiet East Sussex.

And its mood is very distinctly that of a prosperous English country gentleman. As we passed over its threshold, the date 1634 was clearly visible, carved over the doorway.

Sturdily sandstone built, it's called Batemans, located outside the village of Burwash. Our only memory of the town itself is going in to a local shop where my brother Jim discovered yet another wonderful Harris tweed jacket.

It's Kipling's home that left a very strong impression. Very traditional, with its vintage oak staircase and panelled walls, the room that impressed this writer most was Kipling's study. Large and with windows overlooking the garden Kipling and wife Caroline designed, it's permeated with the wondrous scent of boxwood.

A plant always admired in our own garden for its appearance and scent, it existed outside Kipling's windows in an abundance to be envied. In our climate, its survival is a challenge.

Now a National Trust property complete with family mementoes and Kipling's treasured furnishings, the house is well worth a detour.

The study is so comfortable, any writer would happily settle in there. Especially to the working table he wrote was "ten feet long from north to south and badly congested".

"Congested" is a marvellously inventive way of describing the clutter that covers most writers' desks. But we all like to console ourselves with the saying that "clutter is the sign of a creative mind".

His 1928 Rolls-Royce was still parked there during our visit and the impressive ancient water-driven mill he restored grinding flour still for sale.

Born in India in 1865, Kipling was sent to England for his education at the age of five. It was an experience remembered with bitterness, the isolation of being separated from his parents at such a young age. He recalled it in Baa Baa Black Sheep and The Light That Failed.

His father, author-illustrator John Lockwood Kipling, was based in Bombay. The son returned to India, working as a journalist from 1882 to 1889.

Remarkably observant, he wrote about the Raj at its peak and his books about that era captured the imagination of readers worldwide.

After leaving India, young Kipling continued to travel extensively, turning up in some surprising locations. On assignment in Vermont, I was told he had spent four years living in the area around Brattleboro from where his American-born wife came. A few years ago in Capetown, South Africa en route to the Prime Minister's residence, my driver pointed out the nearby interesting-looking residence where Kipling lived during a number of winter visits.

He was there for the first time in 1900 during the Boer War and likely his friendship with Cecil Rhodes began then.

Kipling, who died in 1936, was not a man who sought honours. Declining a knighthood and title of poet laureate, among other homage offered, he did accept a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907. It is on display at his home.

Involved in work of the Imperial War Graves Commission, he became a personal friend of King George V.

Our bookcase contains my grandparents' well-read volumes of Kipling's work, ranging from his famous Kim and Gunga Din to The Man Who Would Be King.

If you didn't see the film adapted from his Man Who Would Be King when first released, it's worth seeking out . . . and even reviewing, as well. Nominated for four Academy Awards, it remains one of filmmaker John Huston's epic productions.

And since Bermuda is still very much in a movie mood after its film festival, some words about it seem appropriate. Happily for globetrotters, Huston found a location for Kipling's tale as unique as the plot. Not only is Morocco appropriately exotic, but its great variety of scenic settings allowed it to substitute for three different countries . . . India, Afghanistan and Kafiristan.

The plot is as intriguing as the backgrounds. Sean Connery and Michael Caine are soldiers of fortune who decide to set themselves up as Kings of Kafiristan.

After announcing their intentions to Kipling (Christopher Plummer) in his Lahore, India newspaper office, they set out across a wild, untamed landscape to reach that isolated destination.

Once there, they achieve a success far beyond their expectations. Only when Connery begins to actually believe he is a direct descendant of Alexander the Great does their empire crumble.

All opening sequences were filmed in Marrakesh, where the local railroad station was transformed into Lahore Station of Queen Victoria's era. The crowded Lahore market was even easier to duplicate.

Marrakesh's Djema El Fna Square is just such an open market today, an almost overwhelming collection of native stalls, fruit and vegetable sellers, snake charmers, story tellers, musicians and dancers which leave the tourist boggle-eyed with wonder.

Here tribes from all regions of Morocco gather to sell and bargain in a bigger-than-life scene straight from Arabian Nights. If these are some of the wondrous sights in the red oasis city which Winston Churchill described "the most beautiful spot on Earth", can you imagine what beauty the countryside contains?

It was to this countryside high in the legendary snow-capped Atlas Mountains that Huston travelled for the rest of this epic film. Sequences showing it on screen in this Allied Artists release would be enough to lure any traveller here.

Why haven't you read about it here then, you may ask? Yes, it was an absolutely mesmerising experience, a fascinating country, and I have written about it elsewhere in pre 9/11 times. But it has been in the news for a number of terrorism attacks that frighten travellers.

See it on screen and add it to the list of magic places you hope to visit some day. The great Atlas range reaches a summit of 13,664 feet, forming a barrier between Marrakesh and the endless Sahara.

Before reaching there, the crew created the impressive holy city on a hilltop just out of Tahanaout. Then stars settled into Quarzazate surrounded by oases of date palms and red adobe kasbahs (huge mud castles) etched fortress-like against bright blue skies.

Quarzazate was one of the places this traveller found most magical. Hearing the haunting sound of wind across the desert just outside my balcony door, a full moon illuminating the scene, was something never to be forgotten.

Another was an evening spent in an open courtyard along the "Road of a Thousand Kasbahs" near Tinerhir, where many massive settlements perch on rocky bluffs overlooking the valley below.

Some are centuries old, housing Berbers whose ancient origins are lost in history. That night we listened as locals played their tribal drums and danced under a full moon. It seemed another century. So did passing old French Foreign Legion posts, memories of an earlier era.

All these areas get camera attention in the film. At Tifoultout they staged the battle between Er-Heb and Bashkai fought with 600 warriors. Then it was on to Ait Benhaddow where 1,500 extras formed a massive mile-long procession complete with mules and camels, to follow leaders Connery and Caine.

The spot chosen to duplicate India's Khyber Pass was the Gorges du Todra. "The views there, in fact, almost everywhere, left us speechless," insisted Huston.

"The red walls of the valley close in on the stream, then the road starts to hairpin its way up into the mountains. Rocks are brilliant with colour and the erosion defies description."

That could well describe all of Morocco. A land of spectacular scenery . . . yet veiled, like so many of its women, in an air of mystery. When our handful of journalists travelled further south to visit the great open market at Tiznit, so famous for its silver, it was suggested by the guide on our Moroccan Government press trip that we dress very conservatively.

So I wore one of the caftans purchased at a local market, complete with its hood up and veil over my face. Again, the setting was like a scene from The Arabian Nights.

For a lifetime, descending the staircase in our home, I've viewed a marvellous painting at the bottom landing. It depicts a spectacular Himalayan scene with a traditionally dressed man sitting on a rocky ledge under a tree reading to a woman similarly garbed.

For years I thought it somehow involved Rudyard Kipling's India. It was one of my mother's favourite purchases as a bride. It's taken all these years to realise it's really the Rubyiat of Omar Khyam, but the effect weaves the same sort of magic mood . . . and so will this film.

Many more interesting authors' homes deserve travel attention. But next week it's time to offer some hints for Cup Match getaways.

Travel factfile: Kipling's home opens from March to November 2, 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Adult admission is £7.20 (about $14.25), children £3.60, family £18.