Travel Writing Library

"No more buses today, Sir. You must wait until tomorrow." I was waiting to hear him say "my cousin has a guesthouse, come!" But this one didn't.

Hired the bike, shiny silver ,basket on the front, what could possibly go wrong, and set sail from Hoi An.

Toilet paper floats past as we wade deep though flood waters in Mestre. I look at my companions Sara and Dinh, and I can see they also recognize precisely what we are walking though. We are well and truly in the merda.

The rain was unforgiving and completely relentless, my skin was white, spongy and had been pruned since day one, but until now it hadn't really bothered me.

I am walking along Thanon Chang Khlan at dusk, carrying a copy of Robinson Crusoe –purchased from a side street bookseller, and contemplating what brought me here.

We broke into a run. There was insufficient oxygen in our lungs. The pied skies gave way to a looming darkness threatening to engulf us.

It was time to leave Hyderabad and there was no reason, on that cold and rainy night, for me to think that this train ride would be any different to any others.

Waltzing Through The Kaffehaus Kultura Of The Austrian Capital: Wien

There is nothing worse than not being allowed to board your plane in Dubai. Unless of course you are a young black woman, with dreadlocks, who talks back, not being allowed to board your plane in patriarchal Dubai.

When I try to choose “the worst journey of my life” there are a host of brilliant contenders. Flicking through my little leather-covered journal I recall the train ride when dinner was made up of miscellaneous meat...