I remember an early morning cycle rickshaw ride to Old Delhi station, rucksack on knee. There was a “Public Carrier” by the side of the road with a bloke lying under it messing about. But he wasn’t. Read more . .
My Favourite Day of the Tour… The early 90’s was still a time when you could operate tours in Zaire, but only just. Our tours began in Uganda. Groups arrived at Entebbe Airport not only with their own luggage, but also with a pallet of assorted tinned and dried food put together by the ever hard working and multi-talented operations managers back in the UK.
This gallery has a lot to live up to, as our exposure to incredible wildlife photography is commonplace now. I was, of course not in a position to wait hours or days for a particularly spectacular picture, so the images are those taken by a passing admirer rather than a devotee. Read more . .
I visited Pakistan in 1984-5, at a time when the military ruled the country via the harsh and unpopular General Zia-ul-Haq. Just across the northwest border the Russians were embroiled in a war in Afghanistan that would be fatal to the failing USSR. I travelled with a girlfriend from Karachi up to the tribal areas around Quetta, Peshawar and Swat in winter time. Read more . .
I drove 3 week camping tours through Sweden, Finland and Norway over the course of 5 summers, becoming so accustomed to the ground that I could barely sleep in a bed for weeks after each series of 4 tours. It is of course a part of the world renowned for spectacular scenery, but a great deal of that is large scale, and I found a new delight in the micro landscapes. Because of the rapidly changing climatic conditions there I was lucky to revisit places in varying light and seasons, finding plants flowering or berries in profusion on my next trip. Read more . .
The early morning train left Old Delhi station soon after six in the morning, thankfully containing myself and all of my bleary-eyed charges, writes Bob Cranwell. Alarm call, then after a brisk coffee and bus ride, there followed the inevitable crocodile of rolling suitcases and imploring porters through the tumult of the station, heaving like a fractured termites nest.
Podcast version here