Travel Writing Library

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?

You know its going to be one of those days ; because it the day we planned to go to Alton Towers. So the car is packed, three teenagers sat in the patiently and I am about to drive.

9 p.m. Bags packed. Shopping completed. Tickets double checked. Checkout done.

What better way is there to see a country than by train? Having already experienced the 24 hour train journey from Hong Kong to Beijing, with its postcard-perfect rice fields and run down villages...

Andrew, an office colleague, convinced me to accompany him and some explorers on a relaxed rafting trip down a stretch of the Pongola River, on the border of the Ithala Game Reserve in Kwazulu-Natal.

Having survived emergency uplift in a plane courtesy of the dog on the runway, being locked in a coach toilet for 4 hours travelling through the mountains of Bolivia when the flush was broken, a 14 hour flight...

It’s the damned lock. As cutely antiquated as the key is, the lock doesn’t respond to any form of manipulation. I rotate the thing clockwise in the keyhole until I hear the click, and then twist the doorknob.

We are dressed in full outdoor gear; down jackets, thermal underwear, hats and gloves. Temperatures in Gangwon Province, South Korea can dip to -30 degrees Celsius in winter and we are taking no chances.

My mother screamed as a jet of blood erupted from her hand. I stumbled over to her, slipping on the wet deck. I was drenched. “Get back to your father” bellowed my mum above the storm.