Travel Writing Library

I get off the plane in Guangzhou; my first stopover. It's thirty-five degrees Celsius and I drag my luggage across the tarmac through a thick muggy haze. I've just taken a nine hour flight from Perth and I haven't slept.

I get off the plane in Guangzhou; my first stopover. It's thirty-five degrees Celsius and I drag my luggage across the tarmac through a thick muggy haze. I've just taken a nine hour flight from Perth and I haven't slept.

Heading out for my summer holidays with a group of friends to Corfu, it was a holiday that we'd been looking forward too for many months. Living in Nottingham we'd decided to fly from Gatwick due to the holiday package...

I’d taken the plunge. After backpacking from Nepal through India, I decided I was bold enough to brave the hectic cacophony of India’s capital city. My reason for visiting Delhi, a city renown for tenacious touts...

It's early July and I'm in Dublin teaching summer school and sharing a large, gloomy Georgian house, at the end of a cul-de-sac off the North Circular Road.

I've always felt there’s something wrong with vodka. It takes a sick mind to look at a sack of wheat, or a potato, and declare: “From this, I shall make alcohol.”

First of all, I have to say until February 26, 2013 I never left my hometown but always dreamed of traveling the nation. I was headed towards Fort Wayne, Indiana from Chicago, Illinois for job orientation.

The sky was a mottled grey as my train slid elegantly into the station. It was early morning and the air still held a cold crispness to it, the kind you feel really penetrate your lungs.

As someone who was born and raised in Bosnia, I am by no means biased against that great country and its citizens. In fact, I have nothing but great memories of the friends I grew up with, the generosity of the Bosnian...

Ingredients: 1 mutton bhuna, 1 23-hour train journey from Delhi to Mumbai, 1000s of Indian fare-dodgers...