Mark and Jo

Serbia is much like Lincolnshire, but with fewer Russians. The city of Belgrade is run by packs of dogs who wander the streets sorting stuff out. We were friendly to them so they didn't eat us. Nikola Tesla was some clever turn of the century Serbian bloke who has a great museum with fluorescent tubes and magnets and energy and things to play with. Mark spent a morning running a hostel, booking in guests and answering the phone in his best Serbian accent when the guy who worked there decided that he was too tired for work and wanted to go home. Night time was slightly frustrating as Belgrade's hip, underground bars and clubs are so hip and underground that we couldn't find them. The combination of dog patrols, hard to find beer and being a ... read more

Jo's stubborn refusal to utilise her fluent Italian caused us problems as soon as we landed in Pescara. We stupidly sat on a bus and travelled miles past our destination before Mark finally asked a drunk bloke for instructions. Then we got a bus all the way back again. Our two nights in a lovely little cottage were uneventful but we decided that the FT's recent slating of this Italian coastal resort was a bit mean. We sailed across the Adriatic to Croatia to begin our trip through the Balkans, aka 'M and J's '90s War Correspondent Tour' (thanks Derek). Split, Dubrovnik and the Dalmatian coast were even more stunning than expected. Not so pleasing were the hardened and miserly battle axes who we rented a room off and who demanded more cash off us when ... read more

It was 48 degrees on arrival in Dubai and it didn't get any cooler for the next few days. We therefore stayed in our hotel room for most of the time trying to not shed half our body weight in sweat. We did venture out for Jo's birthday, however, a night which saw her bullied by her husband into eating and drinking more than physically possible so determined was he to make the most of the 35 quid 'all you can eat, all you can drink' extravaganza. She inevitably fell into a drunken, gluttonous stupor on the bar. Mark chose to ignore his motionless wife and spent her birthday evening drinking and smoking Sheesh pipes with some Arabic bankers. Tracking down the honeymooning England captain saw us head to the 7* Jeremiah Hotel. Nice but ... read more

A few thousand miles of train fun later, we arrived in Mongolia. Home for the next few days was a traditional ger (tent) - a third of the Mongolian population still choose to live in them. We got well into the nomadic lifestyle with archery and horse riding across the plains. Evenings were spent gambling with wolves’ ankle bones and discussing decades of Soviet oppression. We're so intellectual these days. Walking into strangers’ gers is the done thing in Mongolia so we visited a family headed by a woman who spent most of the afternoon throwing dung at animals. We gave them the wonderful gift of an Aussie cricket hat in exchange for some tea made from salt. Mmm. We did get to stroke a one-day-old calf, though, and fuss a non-rabid dog. The Mongolians ... read more

url='/Videos/3925.html' onclick='dialog("/Videos/3925.html?popped=1","tbvideo",600,600);return false;' Faster than a speeding bullet? We waved farewell to the monks and headed south to Hiroshima to visit the shrines and memorials. It was solemn and sad but also fascinating and particularly shocking to learn about the number of nuclear weapons still held by countries today, and the various accidents involving them (America, unsurprisingly, the most guilty). Miyajima Island just off Hiroshima’s coast has hundreds of wild deer who eat tourists’ train tickets and maps so we ran them over on our bikes. Back in Tokyo and craving a bit of Japanese kitsch culture, we visited the Sunshine City and the Namja Town amusement park where we spent hundreds of Yen riding on pigs while shooting at mosquitoes with laser guns and winning funny-looking cuddly toys on grabber machines which... read more