St Helens isn't a typical round the world destination but we popped in anyway for the happy wedding of TIm and Jane. As they honeymooned in the Mauritius we headed off to some mountains in Spain for a family/friends holiday where Matt, Roz, Juan, Nat, Al, Derek, Sue, KT, Tom and four month old (Bristol Rovers fan) David James were waiting in a charming little villa. Much fun was had by Jo who was vomited on four times in ten minutes by one member of the party (we were unsure how much the accused had had to drink). Meanwhile, Mark was [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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After escaping the avaricious land ladies in Croatia, we were relieved to arrive in Bosnia-Herecegovina and meet Dino, Mostar's local rude boy/property magnate/porno retailer, who put us up for five nights. Thanks to the amazing scenery and laid back pace, we soon concluded this was our favourite city of the trip so far. The pride of Mostar (and Bosnia) is undoubtedly Stari Most, the bridge over the river Neretva which various lunatics from the town dive from. According to tourist information, "this is a very risky feat and only the most skilled and best trained divers will attempt it. [View Full Entry]

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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, [View Full Entry]

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After 140 hours UK'ing, it was stag and hen party time in Malaga and Barca. Jo then joined the end of the stag party group in Malaga before we headed north for a couple of days in a Beckhamless but still charming Madrid and then back to Barca for a Smudy. Smudy Juice Bar is Barcelona and Spain's first smoothie outlet run by the talented el Les and beautiful Irenie. Not only are Smudy Juice Bar drinks delicious, they are also nutritious and packed with vitamins, minerals and all the goodness that fresh fruit provides. Mmm clean, fresh innovative and [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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After disembarking the Trans Siberian at Moscow we were welcomed with open arms by the charming locals including a stripper who was at work in the car park. We gathered quickly that Muscovites are either helpful and very nice or very bad-mannered and grumpy. Before long, Jo was falling out with the ones who refused to understand the concept of queueing up to see Lenin. A trip to the Moscow State Circus was enlightening. While Mark was in raptures about the tigers who jumped through hoops of fire ("It's just liking making a dog collect the newspaper"), Jo was perturbed [View Full Entry]

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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 [View Full Entry]

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A slow boat to China (two and a half days) took the form of a cargo ship full of pianos (cue jokes about playing ‘Chopsticks’) from Kobe, Japan to Tianjin - another of those small Chinese towns with only ten million residents and an economy twice as big as that of Germany*. Our boat was surprisingly comfy with a table tennis room, lots of badly dubbed films and a vending machine selling a litre of beer for 1.50. We were further entertained with nightly karaoke sessions all enthusiastically filmed by the ship’s captain. There was a small panda steering the [View Full Entry]

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[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 [View Full Entry]

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