I’ve only just come to terms with this one, actually. For some reason, facing death by a large Irish man was acceptable; it’s something that can happen any day of the week and has done since we first tried to cow the Celts under British rule. However, the notion that my feet were left...
Read more »
An Englishman, an Irishman and an Australian walked into the hostel. Sounds like the start of a joke, right? Not quite. They’d been travelling separately for months but met up somewhere in Eastern Europe, got on quite well and decided to go along together for the rest of their trips. Initially all seemed well,...
Read more »
Barcelona is meant to be one of the best cities in Europe: modern, cosmopolitan and edgy enough to keep bleary-eyed twenty-something professionals packing out their bars at 5am yet still trudging into work, inexplicably fresh-faced, just a couple of hours later. It’s popular enough to keep tourists clocking in and out of its airports,...
Read more »
My old school offers places to ex-pupils on their school trips. It’s a simple arrangement: you come along as a responsible adult, and they drag you around the finest Roman ruins in Italy for a week or so, half-board, for a decent price. Realistically you’re there as a spare body, someone who can, if...
Read more »