Recent Travel Articles

Bari Italy In From Istanbul

My name is Dario, I’m 31 years old and I’ve spent the last 10 years roaming Europe and the world. Since the travel bug bit me, and I will always be grateful to Ireland for this, I’ve never stopped moving around: Europe, China, the United States, Australia, Africa and the Middle East are some of the places I’ve been. Now my wanderings have led me to Istanbul, Turkey, where I’ve been living for the past two years.

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Simon Vaughan Simon Says Travel

Travel has broadened my mind, expanded my brain, freed my tastebuds, liberated my adventure-lust, increased my confidence, honed my patience, sharpened my humour, improved my tolerance and enhanced my appreciation for my home and things I take for granted. Not a bad outcome...especially if you factor in the mountain of spectacular international T-shirts in my closet and collection of shot glasses in my kitchen.

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Canol Heritage Trail The Spectacular Canol Trail!

Thanks to this resurrection, the Canol Heritage Trail is now a hiking route of legendary proportions: the dream of truly hardcore wilderness enthusiasts, a best-kept secret among the wearers of the boot. Like the original Canol pipeline project, it remains conquered by few.

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Yunnan Tea Forest A Tea Lover's Paradise

Tea in Asia has long been used as a cure-all: a deodorizer, a moderator of blood sugars, a liver and kidney cleanser, a diuretic, a detoxifier, a bowel cleanser, and a vegetable compound with more fluoride than any other plant matter on Earth. But tea has also been Asia’s beverage of choice for more than a millennia. For me—long an addict to the green—the journey here is a very willing step into nirvana.

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Ryan Murock in Donegal Ireland My Irish Shades of Green

The emerald green of a transparent raindrop as it beads on a leaf. And the green of a morning after late nights at the pub. Until I drove through Ireland, I never knew they were each so unique. During my childhood, Ireland was always in the background: in my grandmother’s accent; in the fragile blue airmail letters that arrived in our mailbox; in the sound of my name.

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Kayaking Saguenay Lac-Saint-Jean Kayaking the Saguenay

The Saguenay Fjord was at a nasty, rolling boil, a chaotic mess of black and white and silver foam lacking any discernible pattern. Looking over my shoulder, I could see three-and four-foot waves rolling down the fjord behind us at a 45-degree angle, but our kayaks were getting hit by waves reflecting off the rock wall less than 200 metres to our right.  

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