Quitting your job to travel for an extended time isn’t such a crazy thing to do these days. It’s a genuinely rewarding gap year that can be taken at any time, as long as you have the courage to do it, and the foresight to plan. If you’re reading this, then i’m assuming that the seed of travel is planted firmly in your brain. This article is aimed at first timers who already know their rough itinerary, and would love advice on what to do next.Read more
We didn’t book a hotel in Zanzibar. It was a mistake. We wandered around the city at dusk getting desperate, with a tout stalking us the whole time.Read more
Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania’s bustling capital, was a place I didn’t care to stay long in. The drive in was a gridlock of beeping horns and clouds of exhaust fumes. Trucks with colourful stickers and cabin decorations, battered cars with cracked windscreens and huge luxury 4WDs and black taxis.Read more
I came across a quote by Leonardo da Vinci the other day, which I quite like: For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you long to return.Read more
You may not have heard of the Pont des Arts in Paris. But you might have heard of that ‘love lock’ bridge. It’s the pedestrian bridge with railings covered in padlocks, locked there by loving couples who sign their initials and throw the key into the Seine below.Read more
Iceland is kind of a circle shape – and if you imagine it is a giant clock – we were driving somewhere around the 5 o’clock point. We were just a grain of sand sandwiched between two giants, the Atlantic sea and Vatnajökull, Europe’s largest glacier.
It was almost 2am when we finally arrived at Vannes station, on the west coast of France, by TGV. I was pretty excited at the thought of flashing through the countryside at 300km/h, turning cows, fields, and villages into one long smear of green and brown blurs. But it was dark, and I fell asleep from exhaustion, waking up with bleary eyes as red as the train’s.
A man with a bow and arrow was stalking the beach. He had a backpack full of other weapons, like blowpipes. He probably didn’t manage to sell many. Nor the salesman sailing a pirate ship-shaped kite through the air. Who needs that stuff, anyway?Read more
OK, i’ll come clean straight away. I’ve seen Eat, Pray, Love. I need to admit this, because that’s the preconception of Ubud I had in my head when we travelled to inland Bali for a few days. This is where Julia Roberts did all her movie stuff, bike riding through jungle mountain roads and past sparkling vistas of brilliant green rice fields shielded by lush tropical backdrops.
So we got there, and…wait a minute, where are all the rice terrace farms? I can see a lot of bars, and a lot of traffic, are you sure this isn’t Denpasar? We drove from Sanur to Ubud and all we saw were roadside art galleries selling paintings of the Buddha, roundabouts protected by huge weapon waving warrior statues, and silver merchants. For the whole 45 minute drive, just highway, and shops. Where were the rice terraces? Read more
The road was getting worse. I sat in the middle of the backseat, holding on to the headrests in front of me, trying not to wipe greasy smears of sweat on the arms of those next to me. Cindy sat to my right, holding on to the roof handle to stop herself from being launched up into the ceiling.Read more