Maybe it wasn’t an obvious choice of first destination for a couple of first time travellers who like their home comforts, but actually Kolkata was not the terrifying culture shock people warned us about. Yes, we walked out of the airport to find a road made virtually uncrossable by unpredictable yellow taxis; we took said taxi in a seat-clutching ride across town seeing people cycling with boxes of chillies on their heads and live chickens tied to their handlebars; we were greeted in the streets by mothers begging for milk powder and packs of yellow dogs and men sleeping on the pavements. Yes, it was a million miles away, but amid this melee of people and smells and confusion, we found a city of incredibly beautiful buildings and parks, some of the best street food of the trip, and so many smiling faces: a girl who taught us Indian classical dancing in the Victoria Memorial gardens, a couple of street kids who we shared a lassi with, parents and children shaking ours hands at a Kali festival we happened to catch.
It wasn’t just that Kolkata allowed us to jump into another culture headfirst, it also allowed us to meet other travellers, get advice, make plans. There is definitely a district for travellers, and lucky for us, most of them had been around for a while. Trains were all explained, haggling (although we never really mastered that), the head wobble. We ended up travelling with a guy we met on the first day for three weeks. Really (and I hate to admit it) it does help to have a man around in India. They just get more respect. Annoying but true.
From Kolkata it was an overnight train to Darjeeling. The trains are really something. The queues for the tickets are utterly bewildering, but as long as you stand your ground as aggressively as everyone else pushes it shouldn’t take too long! The train itself is the best place to meet people. There’s always one man who takes charge of the conversation. Warning- he is usually the one that snores the loudest. You can buy everything under the sun. On that first train journey we counted 33 items that you could purchase, including yo-yo, statues of Ganesh, and nail clippers. Continue reading India: From Kolkata to Varanasi
The 5-hour bus journey up the east coast of Vietnam from Saigon was packed full of near misses, a distinct lack of seats, and a police pullover. The driver appeared to be more focused on speaking on his mobile than the safety of the passengers and we could both see the headlines about two British backpackers being involved in a road accident. After what could only be described as the worst travel experience of both our lives, we finally arrived at the Zenora Beach Resort, Mui Ne.
Debbie Valentine explores the cultural side of the sunny island of Malta.
With the London marathon approaching on Sunday, 
A couple of weeks later, Disley finished and presented a course design that edged along the Thames and only closed two bridges. The course was approved by police and the tourist board was very pleased with it because it displayed many London sights including Cutty Sark, Tower Bridge, the Docks, The Embankment, Big Ben and Buckingham Palace.
All of these are FREE:
Enough about the journey, after eleven hours drive we arrived early on a chilly and damp morning at Goreme, longing for a hot breakfast and a stretch on a bed. Our host – an absolutely lovely, sincere and genuine elderly man who runs his family business with a little help of his hot-air-ballon-business-occupied son and his stunningly gorgeous daughter-in-law. It was a simple establishment but extremely welcoming. Emre, the host, after asking what we would like for breakfast, got on his motorbike to get fresh ingredients for menemen – a type of omelet with garlic, hot green peppers and tomatoes baked in a clay pot. That was served with soft and fragrant Turkish bread and a glass of instant coffee. I must admit that was the best breakfast of my life. 
Before we managed to get to the open air museum, a monastery with cave churches, we couldn’t resist but pop into a cave cafe. It was a rainy and chilly day and we were definitely in need of tea and something sugary. My choice was Kemal Pasha (not to be confused with Mustafa Kemal Pasha) – a dessert that tastes heavenly. A few baked balls of dough soaked in sugary syrup washed down with Turkish tea drank from an ever so delicate tulip-shaped glass improved my mood no end. I was ready to face the enemy – the unpleasant weather in the open air museum. The museum was great, but the tastes, views and smells of that day will stay with me longer.
The rest of the day was glorious; weather and sightseeing wise. Ihlara valley was next on the itinerary and it struck us with its beauty. It is the most well known out of Cappadocia valleys, and no wonder. Greeting the two playful donkeys on our trek we reconnected with nature. Another valley we had a chance to look at from above was the Pigeon Valley dotted with man-made caves. It was the highlight of the day for me, especially when our guide explained the controversy over the use of the caves. They have been used by people for centuries, but now UNESCO claims that people should stay away from them as they are pigeons’ habitat. And then I saw melancholy in the guide’s eyes. They were looking glazed over at the fatherland; the voice expressed injustice while uttering the words: “…as if people were not important”.