I traipsed the Western Sahara with a man named Ahmed, a portly character big on tunes, hospitality but not the working class.
Once upon a time, I travelled to Nashville to find Keith Urban. Instead, I found Holly, George W. Bush and the devil.
After an unprecedented year of violence, demonstration and pestilence, I find myself longing for space, a means of escape.
The last time I travelled to Mexico, I weaved my way through neighbouring Guatemala. The only problem was explaining who my guide was to customs.
‘Geocaching’ is the odd leisure pursuit where one uses GPS to discover hidden junk. However, it is known to sometimes end up in a police distress call, and always in a pub afterwards.
I travelled to a refugee camp in Lebanon, a place mostly populated by the children of Palestine. What I saw was hope walking alongside hopelessness.