When you’re a kid, everything is an adventure. A pavement is a runway; your arms the wings of a Boeing-747; your mouth and lips the noisey, spluttering engine. You can make magnificent medieval castles out of sheets and you can fight off any danger with your fabled Blade of Mercy (so long as mum’s not using it to mash potatoes).
A couple of years ago, my girlfriend and I were hostelling our way through central Europe. We’d made it to Berlin, which is a little like those crossroads in movies, the ones with a dozen signs pointing in every possible direction.
With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains in its borders, it’s not a big surprise most travellers visit Nepal for the trekking. Flying into Kathmandu you’ll find dozens of adventurous looking groups about to set off into the snow-capped wilds of the Himalayas, usually carbo-loading on their second plate of momos.
Call us biased, but we’re pretty fond of this recent customer complaint from one Intrepid traveller from England. We did our best, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough to keep us from feeling the full wrath of Rebecca Gadsby. What can we say? You can’t win them all…
It’s the choice facing every Nepalese adventurer: Annapurna vs Everest. Whose scene reigns supreme? We’ve got the definitive guide.
The subway. The metro. The underground. Das U-Bahn; subterranean transport systems can strike fear into some travellers’ hearts. But experiences of wrong trains, indecipherable maps or armpit-proximity are just minor details – adventure starting and story making one-offs. The subway is a wonderful thing. And New York is one of those destinations that has an underground network with a reputation all its own.
When life gives you lessons, make lessonade.
In the early 1800s, scientists were working on a sci-fi-esque technology that would revolutionise the way people spoke to eachother. And getting nowhere with it. What they had to work with was a current: a continuous, stable electrical current. What they lacked was a way to turn this super-fast electricity into coherent communication. Lots of wacky ideas were put forward, but it wasn’t until the 1830s someone realised the trick might be quite simple: switching the thing off.