Travel Writing Library

“When you go to jail tomorrow, do not be angry. Anger might work where you are from. In Serbia, you must laugh.” The cigarette salesman in the driver’s seat lets out a rumbling chuckle, giving a thumbs-up as he jumps a gear...

"I'm going downhill!" my sister yelled, as she grabbed her bike, hurled herself over the seat and vanished down a twist in the mountain road.

Everything is black. My suit wasn't weighted properly and I am having trouble with my descent. I can't see my dive buddies or the dive master. I am surrounded by murky waters and a bit of saltwater has gotten in my goggles.

They had seen my money belt, so I had to treat it as lost and with it my bank card and a fistful of Vietnamese Dong. SLR camera, notebook computer, iPhone, Kindle, sunglasses…but it was pointless to make an inventory.

I dropped my battered, dirty, mountain of a rucksack on the floor, said a weary hello to my family and dragged myself upstairs into my quiet, calm, clean bedroom. My head hit the pillow and I was happily unconscious...

I met Lester in Paddy’s, the world’s highest altitude Irish pub. Maybe it was the scanty oxygen, or maybe it was an excess of pisco sours, Peru’s national cocktail – either way, I inexplicably agreed to join him...

Looking back, it seems that my luck remained in Ireland the moment that the plane left the tarmac, because by the time I touched down in Edinburgh an hour later, I was about to have one of the unluckiest days of my life.

Many years ago, I went to Thailand for the first time. I had an amazing two weeks of adventure, shopping and new experiences.

Four nuns unpicked the quinine drip from my sister’s blackened arm before wheeling her to the foot of the aircraft. From the white cloth of their habits shone the purity of their intentions...

Have you ever had that strange feeling drilling you inside, the feeling of unexplained inner compulsion, the urgent need to do something, like for example to see the sea?