Failing to understand Jamaica and why I’m never going back. Originally this was going to be a story of my regret at failing to gain a real understanding of Jamaican life but by the time came to leave, regret had descended into really not giving a fuck at all. So here’s my new story of trying to understand Jamaica. The first hurdle in trying to understand Jamaica is language. If you only looked around you this would seem like a…
The question of whether travellers should give to beggars often crops up on travel blogs but it often amounts to little more than a bunch of reasons why you shouldn’t give money, or anything even, to beggars. In fact, I’m surprised that some of them even manage to raise some basic notions of charity in their writing. What many of the discussions fail to do is take into account is an understanding of the specific contexts of different locations, implying…
A cautionary tale for transit flights via the United States
The city of Cochabamba in Bolivia decided to make public transport a lot more visually stimulating for its people by splashing a load of colourful paintwork all over its buses. You have to wonder why more places don’t try something similar as its a great advert for the place and helps liven up the daily commute. Using some traditional design ideas brought up to date with modern stylings, the buses are highly distinctive but each driver has added their…
Think of an image of Bolivia. Would it be those women with the bowler hats by any chance? How about its famous, sweater wearing president Evo Morales? The bowler hats make for an iconic image, because of course we recognise them as our own culture implanted into an alien environment. The president’s sweater, proudly worn as a testament to his indigenous heritage, is however, only marginally less of an import: it may be made from local alpaca wool but needles…
In Britain we have borrowed mañana, the Spanish word for tomorrow, to describe that relaxed approach to timekeeping that becomes more apparent as you travel south in Europe, a characteristic that some would say only strengthens as you continue in the direction of the tropics. Once you cross the Mediterranean it mutates into the Arabic, “boukra in sha Allah” (tomorrow God willing), that delightful method of politely declining all future commitment by outsourcing the occurence of all events to the…
The nightlife of Manaus, Brazil. Saturday night and it was party time outside the Manguieras bar, cockroaches from near and far had congregated in an erratic, scuttling dance formation around the warm stench of the drain to soak up the vibes and the bounty of decaying matter on offer. Grinning senior citizens strutted carefree to the four-piece band, the singer enthusiastically demonstrating an equally carefree attitude to harmony; the musicians expressing one of those Brazilian styles that demands only a…
Its 40C, what do you fancy doing? Sitting in the shade, drinking some ice-cold beer, going for a swim? Work wouldn’t be at the top of your list would it? If you had to work, you’d probably envision some kind of air conditioned environment and a source of ice cubes for your cold drinks. You bone idle slob! What about lugging a pile of granite on your head up a steep slope or swinging a bloody great sledge-hammer all day,…
The wonders of African shop art. I may be in a small group of weirdo aficionados of African shop art but I can’t get enough of it so here are a few more examples from Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso, for my fellow weirdos. This was certainly enough to convince me I had to buy a beer in this bar The art form always has to catch up with new technology, though it has to be said that solar panels provide little…
A neat, little village sits atop the gentle, olive shrouded slopes of a rounded hill, the terracotta tiles of the homes’ roofs gleam in the warm, Mediterranean sun. This pleasant, pastoral view could be almost anywhere in southern Europe, where the middle classes from further north come to invest in holiday homes and fatten their bellies on local cuisine. On a neighbouring hill sits another village, a bit older, less ordered, less terracotta, more concrete, but never the less very…
