Jul 25
Just 3 hours away from the hustle and bustle of Glasgow is the little town of Oban (OH-bin), Scotland’s self-proclaimed seafood capital and the ‘Gateway to the Isles’. I am here with my mother on a week-long trip through the land of bagpipes and haggis, where people speak with a burr and the lakes are all called lochs. Read more
Jul 22
When we arrive in Oxford, it dawns on me that I am a walking example of the stereotypical Asian tourist, except with a very big twist. My partner in crime is Ángela, a Spanish exchange student I met back in January. Armed with our big cameras and speaking primarily in Spanish, we went from college to college, confounding many of the locals along the way. Read more
Jul 18
It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and the live band behind me is playing a soothing blend of jazz tunes. We are sipping fresh mint tea in Café Belga, a hip café and bar on Brussels’ unassuming Place Flagey. Outside the beats of the Portuguese festival fill the square while revellers congregate around tents serving everything from grilled sardines to pastéis de nata. Read more
It is difficult to pinpoint the exact moment when I shed the trappings of a tourist and began acting like a local. Maybe it all started when I went to the bar opening on the second night without my camera in tow. Or perhaps it was more to do with the fact that I knew enough Spanish to get me by. Read more
Jun 22
Just half an hour away by train from Madrid, the former capital of Toledo is famed for being an example of early tolerance. Between the 9th and 16th centuries, the city was the centre of La Convivencia – the peaceful coexistence of Muslims, Jews and Christians in medieval Spain. As a result the city became a major centre where ideas were exchanged between the three communities. Read more
Jun 17
In the rain, the wet cobblestones reflect the glow of the street lamps and the darkening skies above. I am in Lavapiés with my high school friend Chelsie, who lives in a flat in this gritty, bohemian inner-city neighbourhood. Read more
Jun 8
“You’re going to Liverpool?” The barber’s eyes widened, as though I had just told him I was off to some no-man’s land in Iraq or Afghanistan. Read more
7:30 pm. I left the studio for the last time and slowly made my way home. As the bus trundled down the hill I was treated to the most majestic view of the city: the setting sun cast hues of gold onto the honey-coloured stone buildings, and its soft light reflected in the multitude of Georgian sash windows. Bath looked as beautiful as ever. I admired the view and breathed a great sigh of relief – it is quite the feeling knowing that 4½ years of university are practically over. And what a tough 4½ years it has been. Read more
May 11
If historic ruins are your thing and you ever find yourself in South West England, then forget Stonehenge – go to Glastonbury instead. Without a car it is harder to reach, but with a little knowledge of the local bus network it is less than 2 hours away from Bath.
A few months ago I decided that life would be a lot more interesting if I said “yes” to more things. So on a slow February evening, when an old friend in Madrid suggested I drop by for a visit, I instantly took her up on the offer. That night we set aside 5 days in the middle of June for a mini-grad trip of sorts. With cheap flights flying from nearby Bristol and the promise of free accommodation, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. Read more
Plus Ultra 