In Nanjing, for the first time on this trip, I get the opportunity to stay with a Chinese family at their home. Getting there proves to be a bit tough, though. The bus ride from Jiangyin to Nanjing is a breeze, but then finding the right local bus isn't. There are several bus stops outside the main building of the bus station, but still inside the gated area. On the street outside, there are several more, so which one do I go to? And which direction? I see what I take to be my bus, no. 327, arriving at the stop outside, so I hop on and show the driver the slip of paper with the characters of the bus stop where I'm supposed to get off. He studies it for a moment, then nods almost ... read more

Shanghai and I did not get off to a good start. First thing I do is buy a bottle of water at an airport shop, as I'm rather dehydrated and dizzy from the long flight. I ask the shopgirl if she can point me to the metro, but then I realize I'm in China now, and English doesn't get me very far. She calls another shopgirl, and I repeat what I said, but they just look at each other confusedly and then start discussing the finer aspects of my outward appearance, I'm guessing. A person at Shanghai Pudong International Airport who doesn't speak Chinese? Impossibru! Whoa, whoa, hold on a sec! Don't worry, you can continue reading. This is not gonna turn into a blog where I bitch about how nobody in China speaks English. I ... read more

I'm very happy to say that on the second try, I finally made it to Russia. My ill-fated first attempt in 2008 was aborted after a desultory stay in Ukraine and a depressing few days in Belarus. Long story short, I think I wasn't quite ready yet. It's easy enough to buy a plane or train or bus ticket and travel to a foreign country, but to be adequately prepared for the experience and the almost inevitable culture shock continues to be a different story altogether. Of course, it also depends on the approach at travelling you take, but let's not go there now. This time everything was to be different. I get off the plane at Moscow's Domodedovo (a word with four o's, none of which are pronounced like /o/) Airport and set foot on ... read more

Worms (pronounced as /voormz/, the -oo- in which being pronounced as in door) is one of those towns in the Southwest of Germany, which, despite having a colourful, troubled history and a rich cultural heritage, suffer from a lack of attention by tourists domestic and foreign. A cynic would probably argue that it only appeals to tour groups comprised of elderly Germans or those showing a keen interest in the ecclesiastical, which might not even be too far from the truth. Indeed, the town feels rather antiquated, almost as if an invisible layer of dust clings on to everything, including the silver-haired locals. Churches abound wherever you look, there are seven in the historical centre alone. There is a half-arsed war memorial at the end of a pretty little park lane lined with flowers and bushes. ... read more

Towards the exit of Yenirerenköy, we pick up a hitchhiker, an old, traditional-looking man with moustache and hat. He looks a bit confused first upon seeing who has stopped for him, but when he asks "Dipkarpaz?", and we nod assertively, he gets in anyway. He says he's a "Kurdi", and that he speaks "no English, Türkçe, Türkçe!". Upon hearing I'm from Almanya, he oohs and aahs a bit and says: "Deutschland gut! Arbeit! Arbeit!" which I find kind of ironic, for I have my fair share of troubles with work in my home country. Seeing that we can't keep on saying "tamam, tamam", "evet" and "teşekkür ederim", the conversation sort of stops after that. We offer him some of our roasted chickpeas, but he just takes the open packet, looks at it for a while, says ... read more