cassidy 
Friendships form without warning, I’ve learnt, and projecting their trajectory is an impossible task. You just never know who you’re going to meet one sunny day in Mendoza, Argentina’s greatest wine-producing city. And you could never anticipate seeing them there again – a city foreign to you both – 16 months later. Serendipity is a … Read more
They call it la garúa. Today, it swallowed Peru’s largest city whole. A dense, white fog that hid the tops of even relatively low buildings, that concealed the ocean and even seemed to make its salty scent disappear, that allowed the sun’s heat to radiate through but not its rays. Wisps of fog drifting through … Read more
Scolded. I consider myself scolded. One of my closest friends, a dedicated food guru and creator of some of the greatest culinary delights I have ever had the pleasure to put to my lips, has lodged a complaint. “I like your blog and all,” went the tone of her email, “but what in God’s name … Read more
Our boat driver kills the engine with a single click. It is silent. A moment later, our guide turns off the enormous torch he has been using to search for caymans. It is dark. Except: It is not silent. It is not dark. As we float down the Tambopata River on our first night in … Read more
People travel and they talk. They form opinions and pass these on to friends and fellow travellers, they rave and condemn, they write guide books and online reviews. You listen to these suggestions, conduct some research of your own, add some salt, and decide whether or not to take them to heart. “You can’t miss … Read more
Slowly, I close my eyes. And snap them open. And close them again. And open them. As much as I try to search for a slither of light, for a break in the smothering blackness all around me, I cannot. The darkness is absolute. My sight robbed, I am more aware of the distant roar … Read more
My weeks in Bolivia have passed by with ease and fluidity, with a gentle contentment and a wide-eyed wonderment. Instead of running my fingers over a keyboard, I have run my feet across the country. I have gazed at new faces and outfits; explored unknown cities, towns and villages; eaten at colourful, chaotic markets and … Read more
I spend my week in Argentina on the back of a stegosaurus. He moves laboriously, with gentle movements that have me rocking from side to side. His flesh is calloused, hardened and eroded by millennia of wind and rain, and cacti rise from his skin like prickly pimples. But it is the plates that line … Read more
My heart hammers in my ears. I attribute it to one of two things: either its the whopping altitude I suddenly find myself at, or it’s the fact that I’m fighting with a Bolivian border official about my passport in a language I barely speak. For a moment, I feel flustered and anxious, until I … Read more