I was starting to feel out of my depth. Imagining had been one thing. But walking right into the reality was another. We were walking through what appeared to be an enormous…
Author: S Kavanagh
DAY 52. On Juhu Beach
I attempted (rather unsuccessfully) to sit cross legged on the grass. My tin tray was scorching hot in the sun. People walked up and down in front of us. Men women and…
DAY 51. Gateway of India
I awoke in the attic room of the Namaste Mumbai backpackers hostel, where an army of electric fans whirred in the dark. It took a lot of motivation to get up. After…
DAY 50. From Ho Chi Minh to Mumbai
It was gone 3am. I had not had much sleep. I may not have had any sleep. Sometimes it is hard to tell whether you have been sleeping, or whether you are…
DAY 49. Singing for Saigon
We blasted through the streets of Ho Chi Minh. Ink black skyscrapers with their hundred winking windows extending into the grey sky. I was under orders to sing. But I could barely…
DAY 48. Travellers at the Crossroads
It was yet another club sandwich for breakfast at the café Lebanhmi. The friendly waiter from yesterday welcomed me in and showed me to an upstairs room where I had the place…
DAY 47. Saigon Reunion
Two days ago I finally managed to remove myself from Cat Ba island, waves shooing my boat across the sea to Haiphong, as if telling me it was about time I left….
DAY 39. Rock the Cat Ba
A tribe of lazy looking goats lounged about the dusty road, unperturbed by the scooters which skidded around them. They sunned themselves and gave me stares as gruff as their pointy beards….
DAY 37. Snakes & Ladders
Lower your expectations. Drop them drastically. There are no more Romans… no Caesar, no Caligula, no Tiberius… I swore to keep the daily travel diary frequent and consistent, self-deprecating and full of…
DAY 23. Lost in Hanoi
I’m woken by the loud and endless beeping of horns. I walk through Hanoi, the sky a curtain of vapor. Rain spits down on me. It collects on the canopies above shops…
