Travel stories for freedom chasers
The first time I flew in an aeroplane, I was 14. It seems unbelievable, now; that I lived the whole first 14 years of my life without ever leaving the ground. Now, I have taken flights in Asia and North America, Europe and Africa. I have flown on huge state-of-the-art jets and rickety Asian domestic planes. I have flown into…
Coming home after a long-term period of travel is hard. Suddenly, every day isn’t filled with adventure and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself. You have so much stuff, stuff that would never fit into a 65litre backpack, and it all seems suddenly excessive. Somehow, whilst you have been travelling, the world spinning around you in a…
I lighted on Bali as a stray eyelash falls to a downy cheek, lingering there awhile before being blown, wish laden, away. Bali is slow, soft and supple as worn leather, full of golden light and smiling grace. Arriving uncertain, unsure and yet familiar; I am filled with anticipation built over a year and a half, brimming behind bright, hot…
It was 5am, the dirt-streaked, dust-choked city still cloaked in blackness. We sat on a long, weathered-wooden bench, bone coloured in the pale glow of the single dirty light bulb swinging above my head, sipping bitter, watery tea from thick glass mugs. Two women, stern and solid with huge work-reddened forearms resting on their knees sat to my right, perched…
My journey through the North of India was at once enchanting and exhausting, full of the inescapable contradictions that are as inherent to India as dahl and roti. Never have I felt so much, or been so aware of my own emotions, pulsing quietly just below the surface of my skin like a heartbeat. By the time I left, flying…
The night I arrived in Varanasi I walked along the bank of the Ganges, the flames from the cremation ghats sending an orange glow skittering across the black water and crackling sparks into the night sky. Hot ashes carpeted the floor, blowing down towards the waters edge where small children, dark skinned and untouchable, worked in the sticky black mud….
It started with an itch. Not a metaphorical itch this time, but a literal, physical itch that spread across my shoulder blades and up my neck. Recognising the familiar sting of bug bites, I cursed the insect population of Vietnam and covered my skin with tiger balm. But then my neck started to swell, and I couldn’t turn my head without…
Singapore – one of the smallest countries in the world – land of futuristic architecture, colonial remnants, modern culture and delicious food. This city of businesses and boutiques can be hard to budget for on a backpacker’s means, so my solution was to keep it short and sweet and accept that splurging a little bit would mean getting more out…
