There aren’t that many places in the world that have experienced conflict within my life time that are now deemed relatively safe to travel to, on the scale of which Sarajevo experienced. The scars of which can still be seen today.
A few years ago, I wrote Glastonbury: The Unofficial Survival Guide. This was something I shared with a couple of friends who were going to be coming with me for their first ever Glastonbury who asked for some information on what it was like and some tips on how to get by. It must have done its job as they both survived
An ex-colleague, and member of my beach swim club alerted me to the fact that the yoga studio that she attends around the corner from me was doing a day of free trial sessions. I had done yoga before and thought it was alright but preferred Pilates. Partly because it felt like a workout while resolving my flexibility issues, partly because a friend is an instructor and therefore have to prefer it and partly because previous yoga instructors I had been in contact with fit the stereotype of hemp wearing vegans who could feel the universe flowing through a haemorrhoid if the planets were in alignment. I thought I would give it a go anyway. A free class is a free class after all.
Like half of the population, I dipped a metaphorical and literal toe into the world of cold water swimming during lockdown. The reasoning for this was partly because a couple of friends and people I follow on the gram participate, partly because the health benefits are well documented, it was free and partly out of boredom and needed a new activity to involve myself in.
Today marks a year since the government announced its first national Lockdown. In some ways it feels like the longest year ever experienced by anyone ever, in other ways it really does not feel like it’s been that long at all. It is funny thinking back to that time when no one will have predicted that we would still be here a year later.
The Golden City of the Silla dynasty. It may be a millennia since its heyday but this small southern city in South Korea packs a lot of culture and character. Here you will find more temples, tombs and shrines than you can shake a stick at, a slowly emerging craft beer scene and, if you are brave enough, a mattress to sleep on the floor of a traditional South Korean hanok.
Back in 2015, I set out to conquer a small section of the Himalayas. Five years ago today we left Kathmandu to Pokhara, gateway to the Annapurna’s. These are the notes from that trip.
When I used to think of Nepal, it conjured up imagery of mountains, saffron clad monks, prayer flags and enough spirituality to choke a hippy. To some extent it lived up to this Tibetan-like view, but it is also so much more than that. I must admit I didn’t know much about Nepal before I left other than my desire to go there, so when one of my work colleagues at the time suggested a trip, I was quick to put my hand up and volunteer. I was working as an Assistant House Master and PE Assistant at a school when Rick sent the email to the staff for a two-week trip to Nepal, trekking the Annapurna region of the Himalayas the following year.
While on our separate gap year adventures in south east Asia, Lucy and I attempted to find each other in Thailand. I was on Koh Pha-ngan and Lucy was just about to start her volunteer work at Wildlife Friends Foundation Thailand in the middle of nowhere. It very quickly became evident that getting to the middle of nowhere was going to be tricky and it would take longer to get there than I probably would have spent there. That was in 2008. Since then the topic of a possible trip together popped up every now and again. In 2015 all the talk became a reality. After much deliberation Costa Rica was chosen as the destination. We left four years ago today.
Over the last few years Bali has made quite the impact on social media and become the crown jewel for Indonesia’s travel industry. From its rice paddies to its beaches, it is very photogenic which explains the influx of bloggers, vloggers and hardcore Instagramers stoking the fire. But for those who want to do more than just take photos for “da gram” Bali has you spoilt for choice above and below the water. With that in mind my friend Annie and I went to find out what’s what.
It was our first couples holiday and at the tender age of 29, my first ever couples holiday.
The fun started at the line for immigration desk at Barcelona’s airport, El Prat. Three flights had just landed and there were only three members of staff behind the desks trying to process us all. You start to switch off after a while from following the same winding path in front of you. There was a brief period of drama to break up the monotony when a passenger from our flight outside of the line started shouting at his female traveling companion (presumed to be his wife/girlfriend and their assumed child) and then started throwing bags at them.
I travelled up to Luton the day before and stayed at the esayHotel, the easyJet hotel brand. The room can only be described as a prefabricated box with just enough room to swing a hamster but it was clean and comfortable. The evening was spent having a cheeky Nando’s and several drinks at the White House Weatherspoon’s getting to know the four ladies, Jayne, Debbie, Leanne and Fiona, who were to become my trekking mums over the next few days.
The beautiful word play in the title describes this book perfectly. If you want the detailed ins and outs of the countries of South America, get a guide book. But if you want a fun read about a solo female traveller’s exploits in foreign countries on a journey of self-discovery and improvement, you have come to the right place.
