Worlds worse places to backpack # 15

Amen, its Yemen.

World's worst place to backpack # 15.

Flights are cheap, cargo seats on UPS courier flights are even cheaper. The Yemeni peninsula with its torquoise waters, coral reefs and empty white sandy beaches are only a flight away. Im sure there will be plenty of tickets going on www.lastminute.com in the coming days.
If that adventurous backpacker blood is boiling within you, that desire to go to far-flung places, exotic getaways, crazy passport stamps, a sense of unparalled adventure and authenticity...... then Yemen maybe calling your name.

Visit Sana'a, one of four UNESCO sites in the country and also one of the worlds oldest cities. 2500 years of life between its city walls.
Theres a sense of complete freedom lingering in the air. A country hanging in the balance of sharia law and no law. A place where poets settle tribal disputes.

For the intrepid, this could be interpreted as a country where anything goes, no rules, no boundaries....for the more wary travelers' it may also mean no return, no mercy....

Contrary to popular belief and occasional FOX News stories you may see, a backpacking experience in Yemen is no walk in the park.

Flashpackers forget the lattes and wifi. Partypackers beware, Yemen is what you would call a 'dry' country. You cannot drink in public. Fudgepackers forget it, your extra circulum activites are punishable by death.

Accommodation is not measured in star quality. If your flashpacking sleep-needs cant flucuate much lower than a 3 star, you had better re-route that last minute ticket.

Accomodation is ranked on a 'clean sheet' scale. Yup, those crisp white things that cover a sleeping surface. 2 sheets is top of the line, no guess what comes next and then bottom of the quality rating rung, no sheet.

Unless your from Jordan, Egypt, Hong Kong or Syria, you will need a visa. If you dont register yourself at a police station upon arrival, you will get in trouble.

Remember not to drink in public, kiss in public or take photos of public infrastructure, women or policemen/soliders.

Getting around is difficult. You are forbidden to ride on public transport moving from the east to the west. This basically means unless your escaping on the back of a camel under the cover of darkness and/or the cover of a burka; or your forking out lumps of US dollars for a 'private security' posse of government funded police to escort you along in a private taxi, you wont be venturing very far.

And coincidentally if you happen to be into all that Al Qaeda stuff, apparently its the place to be at the moment.

Only ranking 15th last on the formidable list of Worlds' failed states, your ride looks cushy. Theres 14 worse-off places to backpack in the world.

The 10 Very Best Zen Stories For Travelers

The difference between heaven and hell is just a matter of perspective......this line jumped out at me. As its all too common on the road and in life to pass judgements, make big calls and voice your opinion, the very thread of what makes something or someone different lies in the eyes of the beholder.

This way of doing things and that way of living life are often confronted head on in travel experiences....how you get your head around it often shapes not only your journey but your objective perceptions...

Enjoy!!

The 10 Very Best Zen Stories For Travelers

The return of the prodigal son.....

It took a return to my first ever backpacking experience to dust off the cobwebs on this blog.
I make no excuses, ive been consumed by this concrete jungle of London and its quietly closed down my capacity to express my love and excitement for travel. However no matter the mundane existence of scrapping pennies together in one of the worlds most expensive cities, my love for travel will never be extinguished.
This has been the longest time I have ever been in one place and not traveled. A reflection of my absence of blog entries....

It was somewhat a coincidence that I arrived in Ireland, 9 years to the week that I left the Emerald Isle on my first ever sustained trip abroad. It was my virgin backpacking experience. One that has shaped my life. It sounds cheesy, but, it "changed my life". I am today the man that I am because of that first trip overseas.


Against the will of my friends, colleagues, univeristy professors, parents and everyone else that had their 5cents worth, i set off on a year long trip. A one-way ticket to the other side of the world, with a year to travel wherever the wind would take me.
I was the only person I listened to, I knew i needed to go. I felt like I didnt understand myself. I felt like I had to truly test myself and the only way to do that was in a foreign environment. Life was passing me by at the age of 20 and I felt like i wasnt holding on with a real sense of purpose.

I still remember entering Ireland ten years ago. I was one of the first off the ferry during the famous foot and mouth disease outbreak. Cameras and flashes greeted me as I stepped down onto Irish soil. It was a rock stars enterance and I wondered who had tipped them off? Here I was returning to the land of my ancestors, the prodigal son with two generations of life in his backpack and a desire to put the 1848 potato famine to rest with a scoop of deep fried irish potato chups.



It was a year that shaped my life. I was out on my own for the first time in my life. Truly on my own. I had to make friends, create a life, choose paths to walk and deal with the consequences. It was a year i will never forget.

Walking down the streets of the bohemian/university town of Galway I felt waves of nostalgia wash over me.
Maybe it was a combination of the waves of Guinness washing down me but as I stopped by pubs where i used to work and sat down and watched life pass before me, I felt proud. Proud in the sense that I took those inital steps to travel away by myself in the middle of studying for a law degree. I listened to myself, and here i was 9 years later, loving that reaquaintance with myself.


I have never regretted a single moment of travel. In fact, quite the opposite.
Traveling to places where i've traveled before and where the memories are particularly special are one of the most fulfilling aspects of life for me as I get older.
Ive hit the big 30 last week. This is no closure on my travel experiences. As Ireland showed, maybe its time to reacquaint myself with some old travel experiences.....

Backpacking & Baguettes

Baguettes. What is it about them that the French are so obsessed with?

I set out to reveal the truth behind the phenomenon during a backpacking trip around France. Within a few days I was making headway. What makes a good baguette? Why do the French consume so many? After munching about 20 I reckon I had it.

After careful deliberation I concluded it was all about the ‘crunch chew’ factor. The crispiness is paramount in a good baguette. Although there has to exist a vacuum of dough in the hollow nest of the crispy case. It is this fluffy consistency, the airy and delicate state of the dough, that is the go.

In my first two days I had consumed roast chicken baguettes, brie and fresh olive oil baguettes, steak, french fries and sauce combo baguette, toasted aubergine baguettes, shaved ham and mustard baguettes and plain fresh warm baguettes. Mini baguettes, massive baguettes. A baguette bonanza. Too many b’s. Introducing Brian Badongy....



The days in France rolled around the baguette bonanza. They became a morning ritual. A trip down to the local bakery, share a laugh about how hot the baker girl is and some crude joke about a bun in the oven, then wander home along the sun baked road.

The baguette could be enshrined in Frances constitution for all it mattered. (just as the italians have next door have with their parma ham) Life evolves around the crusty bread sticks, like pillars holding up the foundations of society. Everyone pops into the Boulangerie each day to buy their bag I began to understand why and what it meant to share some of this bread. Maybe Jesus is in my Backpack? (see two posts below) Was it only the French that picked up on his lasting legacy of sharing bread....

Hey Mr, Nice Baguette

But its these little rituals I enjoy when getting to know a place. Its the slackpacker in me. Wanting to get under the skin of a place. Wanting to really know how the locals live. What they do and why they do it.

The baguette proved to be my telescope into the kaleidoscopic world of France.

Market Madness in Italy

my first footsteps in italy took me off wandering through a morning food market. it wasnt so much the diverse fresh produce that caught my attention what was even more amusing was the flavor of the italian personalities.

As i wandered through the rows of hanging chorizos & parma hams and fresh orange trees growing outside the stalls of wall to wall cheese, these characters seemed to jump into life...
“ahhh giavani, blah blah blah blah” whilst waving his hands in the air
giavanni replying “ahhh franco, blah blah blah ha ha ha” ad-mist a flapping of flabby arms
both of them chuckling away as one wandered past the other. i couldnt help but think of that scene in family guy where peter trys to speak italian. classic.



i watched as big fat franco wandered down the closed off street, taunting and touting with various characters behind their stalls.
they had the banter. smiles were chucked round and the parma ham slim slices handed out. the atmosphere was jovial as i set off jostling in ad-mist the general hustle and market bustle.



wandering off down the street i became consumed with watching these italian market vendors. one moment i was watching a pretty lady being chatted up by a market vendor, my ears then dragged me round to a lady dishing out some gruyere cheese, ahh grazie.
i made my way across the street and ran into the same young italian dude carrying the pretty ladies vegetables to her car. it was comical and a beauty to watch. this very attractive italian women striding across the road with her prada heels, mini skirt and sun kissed legs. the young dude bouncing along besides her with a smuggy grin smudged across his greasy face. two cliches in one.

it was then when a conglomeration of shrills and shrieks cast my eye back across the road. a large white market van blocked the middle of the narrow one lane road. four or five people on its right hand side were waving their hands in the air. only this time, it wasnt old franco and giavani having a laugh.

i bent down and to my horror, a dog was pinned under the front wheel. for a moment of chaos, maybe a few seconds no one knew what to do. my eyes flicked back up and caught an elderly lady standing there, a shocked and stricken look pulled down over pale face, in one hand her prada handbag, in the other a dangling red dog leash with no dog on the other end. she was looking up to the sky as if to say ‘wheres my dog gone’ or at least that what it looked like, she was probably either praying or cursing her italian gods.

the collective screams and shouts grew louder over those strange long stretch of seconds, and then finally the driver inched forward to pop the small dog out from under its rubber.
i turned and looked away. i had seen a family cat and a dog suffer the same fate.

(actually in hindsight i can laugh, but our cat was ran over as it sat on the top of a parked wheel, when it popped back out, its skin had been ripped off and it was convulsing, its carcas spasming out on the bloody concrete with my family standing on the steps watching unfold like a bad movie. my little sister suddenly stops crying and starts cry-laughing, “looook, hadlees alive, hes still moving” sadly, the rest of us knew hadlee was long gone.)

but needless to say, i turned away at that moment, it threw me off a bit, the whole mornings market banter slipped quietly from my mind as i wandered off, trying to shake those two poignant images from my head.

backpacker illusions from italy

Is Jesus in your backpack..?

This video caught my eye mainly because it was shot in the town a few kilometres away from where i live. However, i was originally intrigued by the coverage of such a different side of backpacking that is very rarely unearthed, travel and its religious undertones.



Since the dawn of time, travellers have set out on 'missions'. Sailing across oceans, crusading across lands, all with the same intent - to bring the 'good news' to those they encounter by enlightening those that they meet on their mission. A mission bestowed upon them by a higher being.

When will the bible have a facebook fan page or does the big guy upstairs already use twitter to relay these messages?

Its all very controversial to say the least. Call me what you want, but pressure preaching is definitely not my cup of tea. Nor is the blind ignorance that someone can 'know it all' and have absolute unshakeable faith that their faith is 'the one and only' with little to no real substantial evidence.



Historically missionaries are held partly responsible for bringing death and disease to countless worldwide communities. From Africa to Latin America, the long arm of religion has spread its dirty paws. Needless to say the shaky dependence on this 'good news' that a saviour is coming or that the next life will be a cushy little number is still an empty promise. Its been 2000 years and still no cameo appearances..

I have travelled enough to see the effects of different religions on different societies, different individuals and religious organisations. I respect them all. Although I fail to respect those who blindly impose their beliefs on others. Its a fine line but i am generally skeptical of travellers with a 'religious message' for others who are generally less fortuante than them.



However, it is at the end of the day, each to their own. The slogan 'Live and let live' should be a religion. A backpackers religion. Nah, lets retweak that, if backpacking had a religion, it would read, 'live to travel, travel to live...'

So, was Jesus a backpacker? Safe to say, he was not a flashpacker....

Fairtrade Travel...

Fairtrade fortnight is coming to an end. Im always a big campaigner for fairtrade coffee and bananas. I buy them religiously at the supermarkets. Its been rippling through the consciousness of shoppers of late, this wave of 'think before you buy' mentality is overwelmingly positive. However the road is long. Fairtrade products make up a pathetic fraction of the space on supermarket shelves.

Its has always been glaringly apparent to me that whilst traveling, fair trade is so paramount in a humans mind. To the point that one will go to such extremes to ensure they are receiving a good deal that they end up crying or yelling; making such a fuss over miniscure amounts or raging because they think they have been taken advantage of.

Markets all over the world, shop fronts, street traders and vendors rely heavily upon tourism as a livelihood.
Tourists, travellers, backpackers, unfamiliar track hackers, content stragglers and market hagglers...we all expect a fair deal when we engage in trade on our travels. It shouldn't stop there. Bring that mentality back to your supermarket.



Its nearly the end of fairtrade fortnight but theres still time, only another 140,000 to go until the million and one mark.

Jump on the website and register your fairtrade swap pronto!!!

Heres the deal:

"Swapping your usual stuff for Fairtrade stuff is a brilliantly small step to making the world a fairer place. It means that you get to show your support for developing world producers through what you buy. Two billion people - a third of humanity - survive on less than $2 a day. Unfair trade rules keep them in poverty, but they face the global challenges of food shortages and climate change too.

Fairtrade believes that developing world producers should be in control of their own lives, by getting a better deal for the work that they do. This is a different way of doing business. It's a way that puts the poorest of the world first..."



Im sure the majority of those reading this will have traded, bartered/haggled over something in s foreign country before. Its an exchange, a swap, a fair deal, between two parties, a common agreement reached by balancing both parties needs and wants.
Ethical travel. Backpackers do travel like this. Backpackers tap into that global consciousness. Theres an Ethicalpacker in all of us.
Make no mistake. World trade inhibits and dictates the way we all live.
Over a third of humanity does not get a fair deal at all.

Make your week a fair week. Join the revolution in demanding more fair trade products on the shelves of local supermarkets!!

Then maybe 2 billion people might have an opportunity to fulfil a dream, like travel....

http://www.fairtrade.org.uk/thebigswap