Travel Writing Library

For the first weeks I was in Kenya, my father was with me. We’d gone on safari at the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro and bought jewelry in the market.

One of the few joys of being back from holiday is reliving through photos. At my PC, I'm looking at my hour spent with three rescued orang-utans of the Rasa Ria rehabilitation sanctuary on Sabah, Borneo.

It was the 1st of November 2012, I was on my gap year attempting to work out if I wanted to sell my soul to the government or to a company in the promise of a piece of paper.

My bum cheeks feel like ice. My three layers of clothing, including lycra pants, thermal long johns and leggings, are insufferably damp from my fall into the soft, white abyss of snow. And now my ass is drenched.

They are an archipelago of islands often ignored by maps all over the world. Lying just 300km north-west of Scotland, it is surprising to realize how few people are even aware of the existence of this unspoiled...

The wind was howling and we were enveloped by a thick dense darkness. The faint glow given off by my head torch could not penetrate the intensity of the black velvety night.

Bright lights, thousands of people all rushing to be somewhere, skyscrapers, the smell of coffee and hotdogs and taxi fumes. New York. If you’ve ever been there, you can pin-point the exact smell...

“Six hundred miles mate,” the trucker emphasized. “No lift for me, no lift for you.”

In March of 2003, my girlfriend, Amy, and I trekked the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal’s Himalayan Mountains. Circling for one hundred and thirty miles (210 Km) around the entire Annapurna range...

"One more beer señor?" The voice echoed vaguely in and out of the dull thumping in my head as I forced myself to look up from the bar that I had fallen asleep on.