It's just after midday, the infamous San Francisco fog that had shrouded the city as I flew in seems to have passed. The Californian sun now piercing the azure nothingness as I clamber up the steps of Powell Street station fully laden with backpack/daypack, front 'n' back. I quickly scan the tourist map for the best route to my hostel and decide to make use of San Francisco’s grid patterned streets, negating the necessity to turn more than once or re-consult before reaching my destination. The bustle of street life immediately evaporates, replaced by the sweet sickly smell of baked-i [View Full Entry]

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Red sandstone stalwarts rise sheer from Zion’s dappled valley floor. A play of afternoon light draws over the autumnal colors, the likely catalyst to a fleeting thought so loaded my mind reeled at its enormity, detaching me from the corporeal. Flashbacks from the previous two weeks were checked and counter-checked with sentiments and impressions from my years of travel, evaluating and filtering for the confirmation and clarity to quash this treacherous theory. The proposition left me mortified, like discovering I’m George W. Bush’s love child. Is-America-the-most-beautiful-co [View Full Entry]

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An eerie orb of light cast over the tarmac is our only lifeline as we race through the night in hot pursuit. The moped’s momentum whips smoke from village fires into surreal meteor showers riddled with mosquitoes which shoot up through the headlamp and into our faces like tracer fire. With no crash hat or visor, the only option is to angle my head down, squint my eyes, and keep a constant vigil for the shadowy signs of roving beasts. The tarmac comes to an end with a jolt, replaced by a tightly packed and deeply rutted dirt road, signaling the [View Full Entry]

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His panic-stricken little face lights up when he receives the information that we’ll escort him home, sending him skipping merrily down the road on an errand to buy potatoes. This is the Palestinian Authority controlled area of Hebron, and as we cross through Tel Rumeida checkpoint to the other side in order to wait for the Palestinian boy’s return, we soon discover the source of his fear. We are confronted by around 100 ultra-orthodox Jews, who are gathered in Hebron to mark ‘Hebron day’, one of whom shouts “You know that Jesus is gay?”. None of us reall [View Full Entry]

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The sound of birds singing is drowned out by the voice of an excited little girl "Look mommy there's an airplane up in the sky". Minutes later her village amounts to little more than smouldering ashes, her excitement replaced by a bewildered look of shock and fear. She looks at the people around her, one-by-one their fearful eyes narrow to expressions of hate. "Did you see the frightened ones? Did you hear the falling bombs? The flames are all long gone, but the pain lingers on..." The next minute I'm on the back of a moped anxiously looking up as the [View Full Entry]

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After a short flight from Korea, It soon became apparent that any expected regional similarities ended somewhere in the departure lounge. The sight of red-roofed ochre buildings peppered across a broad sweep of vivid green rice paddies sent chemicals of joy flooding through my body in anticipation. In retrospect these undistinguished fields and dishevelled dwellings won't even rouse a reaction in the following weeks. But after six months in Seoul, seeing the world through grey-tinted glasses, my captivated mind feasts on the colorful banquet in feverish desperation. It is not by chance the col [View Full Entry]

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The sun sets away to the west as the plane begins its descent into Incheon international airport. Leaving behind the world of marbled warmth, the plane enters the grey carpeted mass, where beneath the clouds, the gloaming paints the grey land in ever drearier colours of gloom filling me with a deep sense of foreboding. At Immigration I take my place in the queue marked ‘Foreigner’, whilst away to my left, a line of muscle bound crew-cutted American GI’s chat excitedly in the queue marked ‘Military Personnel’. I am about to walk into America’s last Cold War t [View Full Entry]

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Sweat stings my eyes; it's dark, polluted, hot and hectic. "How many blocks now?" I plead with Jennifer, who has the 'book'. "Five - six maybe?" she shrugs trying to peer at the map as we attempt to sneak a way through the traffic. Flustered, I wave frantically at an oncoming cab "Let's get this, or we'll never make it!" We've been in Taiwan for all of an hour now, and here we are dashing manically through the streets of nocturnal Taipei in search of an English bar in the midst of the slightly seedy 'Gigi-gig area'. Why? Well why else [View Full Entry]

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The traffic noise is deafening, yet I find myself crouched behind the counter in the lobby of my door-less hotel-come-brothel, a finger in one ear and a phone to the other, struggling to conduct an interview with my future boss in Korea. Luckily neither of us can really understand the other in the din, so it is decided the best thing for me to do is write an essay on 'The teaching of English as a foreign language in Korea'. During my 45 minute flight from Cebu to Palawan the following morning, I eat my airplane snack, drink my coffee and [View Full Entry]

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Standing outside an internet café in the seedy part of town long after Cebu’s respectable citizens are safely tucked up in bed a sleaze ball eyes me from across the street. He flashes me that fraudulent smile common to con-men, pimps and confidence tricksters the world over, and having made ‘contact’ he takes his cue to cross over towards me. Just as he begins his pitch I try to save him the effort with a firm “No!” since it was pretty obvious what he’d be selling in this part of town. I’m on the defensive since I must look like a [View Full Entry]

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