Weird, wonderful, and adrenaline-fuelled adventures around the world

<h3>A 9-day journey through mountain storms, remote trails, and the heart of Central Asia&rsquo;s wildest Stan.</h3>

I know why you&rsquo;re here. You want an adventure that doesn&rsquo;t come with souvenir shops or matching tour group hats. You yearn for something wild, untamed, and just a tad off the grid.&nbsp;
So buckle up, babe. We&rsquo;re headed to Kyrgyzstan &ndash; and what unfolds from here is anything but predictable.
In a world that feels mapped and measured, only 0.185% of the world&rsquo;s population will ever set foot on these remote, rugged steppes. And if you dare to make it all the way to <a href="https://inbetweentravels.com/kel-suu-lake/">Kel-Suu Lake</a>? We're talking a microscopic 0.00018%.&nbsp;
That&rsquo;s right. You&rsquo;ll be standing in a spot so rare, 99.99982% of humanity will never breathe its air. I did it, and it was pretty freaking cool.&nbsp;
In fact, it felt so surreal, I knew I had to document it &mdash; the beauty, the breakdowns, the blisters, and the magic. What followed was an epic journey with my best friend: nine days of wild terrain, questionable bathrooms, and moments that cracked me wide open.
Here&rsquo;s the journey, told in snapshots and field notes:

<h3>Day One: Bishkek, Purple Pants &amp; <s>Culture</s> Toilet Shock</h3>

<h6>Itinerary:</h6>
Rolled into Bishkek at 5 a.m. after a full day of travel &mdash; delirious, puffy-eyed, and, in retrospect, wildly under-prepared for cultural differences. The airport? A sea of local men. Us? The only foreign women in sight. I was clad head-to-toe in purple (yes, including an iridescent violet suitcase), standing there like a glittery grape thinking, &ldquo;Oh wow, we are definitely not in <s>Kansas</s> Canada anymore.&rdquo;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
The surreal moment of trudging through customs in full lilac glam, feeling both wildly out of place and exactly where I was supposed to be. Plus, nothing could have prepared me for arriving in Bishkek just as the sky turned gold. The sunrise views at the foothills of the <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/EarthPorn/comments/a0trjf/seeing_the_7000m_giants_of_the_tian_shan_mountain/#lightbox">Tian Shan mountains</a>?&nbsp; Pure magic.

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge:&nbsp;</h6>
Kyrgyz toilets. Oof. Stopped at a gas station, asked for the bathroom, got pointed down a dirt path to a shed. Opened the door to find&hellip; a carved-out hole in the wood floor. No seat, no instructions, just gravity.
(Runner-up: Figuring out how to drive in Bishkek, where traffic rules seem more like suggestions and roundabouts are survival games.) 
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest Thing I Saw:&nbsp;</h6>
A car so overloaded with boxes, crates, and maybe furniture(?) it looked like a small, fast-moving mountain. 
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most Surprising Thing I Ate:</h6>
A full Georgian <a href="https://www.onceuponachef.com/recipes/khachapuri-georgian-cheese-bread.html">khachapuri</a> &mdash; basically a canoe of cheesy, eggy, buttery bread &mdash; consumed entirely by me. No shame. 10/10. Would do it again.

<h3>Day 2: Getting Out Of Dodge (But in our Peugeot)</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:</h6>
Fled Bishkek in our trusty (read: slightly wheezy) Peugeot and made the 4-hour drive to Kyzart Village &mdash; the gateway to <a href="https://www.journalofnomads.com/horse-riding-in-kyrgyzstan-song-kul-trek/">our horse trek</a> and the unofficial start of &ldquo;Are we lost yet?&rdquo;&nbsp;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:</h6>
Trotting into our first yurt camp amongst the &ldquo;<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/C8DMdlvNecw/?img_index=1">velvet hills</a>,&rdquo; and hiking through herds of wild horses to chase the setting sun. Also, the feeling of sweet relief when we met up with <a href="https://www.instagram.com/san_cho_tours?igsh=djJtaDVndmtkNnAx">our trek guide, Sancho</a>, and he was even more fun in person. We did a ton of internet research, and it really paid off!
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Ate our first &lsquo;surprise meal&rsquo; that was cooked for us. No idea what was in it, but it was warm and didn&rsquo;t fight back.</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">The car engine threw a tantrum mid-highway. No roadside assistance, just the mechanic (me: a travel writer), the open road, and the bag of tools thrust my way along with the rental contract.</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Attempted to buy gas with zero Russian language skills. Thank you, Google Translate, for preventing a preemptive mental breakdown.</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Kash, my travel partner and colleague, would probably say that her greatest challenge was battling a complete stomach revolt. Multiple toilet stops, questionable facilities (if any) &hellip; yet she still got on the horse. Absolute legend.</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest Thing I Saw:</h6>
Actual lightning bolts in the same valley as us &mdash; close enough that our guide casually suggested turning off our phones. Is that science? No clue. Did we do it immediately? Absolutely. Also: wild horses roaming like they owned the place. Because they do.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most Surprising Thing I Ate:</h6>
A mystery meat broth that was either beef, yak, or&hellip; probably something else with hooves. I didn&rsquo;t ask. I just slurped and hoped for the best.

Hot tip: Pack snacks. Your stomach may not always be ready for full-immersion cuisine.

<h3>Day 3: Sorest Butts From Here to China</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:&nbsp;</h6>
Five hours on horseback in the rain to our next <a href="https://www.livetheworld.com/post/jailoo-tourism-sleeping-under-the-starry-sky-pel6#google_vignette">jailoo</a> (high mountain pasture).
Slipping and sliding over a 3,400m mountain pass. Questioning every life choice that led to this moment &mdash; and why we didn&rsquo;t think to bring waterproof gloves. I did think to bring a waterproof rain skirt though, which led to lots of teasing (on my friend&rsquo;s part) and then lots of smugness (on my part).
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
Stretching out on a blanket under a waning moon with a stranger I&rsquo;d just met, swapping stories and chatting about life. Later, curled up in my yurt, warmed by a manure fire (yes, that&rsquo;s a thing), reading my book while rain poured outside.

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Trying to mount my horse again. I&rsquo;ve never been so aware of my glutes. </li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">My poor travel partner was down for the count &mdash; fever, chills, couldn&rsquo;t move from the bed. We worked with the camp to bring her hot water bottles like we were running a medieval infirmary.</li>
</ul>

Pro tip: Pack muscle rub, wool everything, and more meds than you think you&rsquo;ll need.

<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Navigated a fog-choked, icy mountain pass where visibility was no greater than one horse&rsquo;s butt-length ahead. Horses were slipping toward the cliff&rsquo;s edge. Honestly, terrifying. Also: somehow epic.</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest Thing I Saw:</h6>
Wild horses and their foals galloping across the hills. Also, standing in fog so thick I could barely see my own boots &mdash; it felt like we&rsquo;d ridden straight into another dimension.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most Surprising Thing I Ate:</h6>
<a href="https://www.traveltokyrgyzstan.com/post/how-to-make-manti-central-asian-cuisine">Manti</a>! Aka Kyrgyz dumplings &mdash; hot, fresh, doughy little pockets of joy.

<h3>Day 4: Polar Dipping in Paradise</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:</h6>
Wrapped up our horse trek with one last ride (and a dip) in Song-Kul Lake. Then things took a turn: my friend needed medical attention, so our guide went allllll the way back to the Kyzart Village, retrieved our rental, and then drove it through ice fields and over that same 3,400m pass. We barely survived on horseback all the way back to the start again. Plot twist: it was a &ldquo;4x4&rdquo; in name only. Scariest drive of my life.&nbsp;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:</h6>
<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/C8kwzU6tY17/">Galloping along the shore of Song-Kul</a> like a shampoo commercial goddess.
Oh &mdash; and taking my horse, Sulu, in for a swim. Yes, a polar dip. Yes, I stayed on. No, I&rsquo;ll never recover from the icy temps.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">The drive back over the icy pass was an adrenaline-soaked nightmare. At one point, I genuinely thought: &ldquo;Well, this is how I go&rdquo;.</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">The bathrooms? Somehow&nbsp;still getting more rustic.</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest Thing I Saw:</h6>
A legit Kyrgyz beer run mid-emergency evac. Our driver tossed beer (stored in a 4L Sprite bottle, obviously) across a river to some locals at a neighbouring yurt camp. It was so cool to see yurt camp bartering.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most Surprising Thing I Ate:</h6>
Hands down, the best bread of my life. Served at our guide&rsquo;s mother&rsquo;s house after making it back in one piece to Kyzart. 10/10 fresh, warm, crusty perfection..

<h3>Day 5: A Brief Foray Into Kyrgyz Healthcare</h3>

Itinerary:&nbsp;
Took my friend to a town doctor, which happened to be in some random woman&rsquo;s kitchen, picked up some meds, drove 3 hours to <a href="https://www.centralasia-travel.com/en/countries/kirgistan/sights/narin">Naryn</a>, the last real signs of civilization in the mountains.&nbsp;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
I got the craziest and best massage of my life in an abandoned (looking) warehouse in town, while her friend played Candy Crush, and they chatted above my barely covered bottom.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li>Driving through the mountains! Many semi-truck accidents where the vehicle was just abandoned in the middle of the highway.&nbsp;</li>
<li>Finding a doctor in the middle of nowhere, getting a prescription from said &ldquo;doctor&rdquo; and translating it from Kyrgyz-Russian to English. All while having no idea if we had actually explained Kash&rsquo;s symptoms correctly, or what the prescription was even for.</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest thing I saw:&nbsp;</h6>
A Coca-Cola ad&hellip; made entirely out of loose stones. Because why not? When life gives you rocks, use them for branding!
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most surprising thing I ate:&nbsp;</h6>
Vegetables! And not just any veggies, but the crispiest, hottest, spiciest tempura eggplant, after days of meat/bread/dairy overload.

<h3>Day 6: Off-Roading So Far It Became &ldquo;Off-Mapping&rdquo;</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:&nbsp;</h6>
Took the road less travelled (literally) to <a href="https://www.journalofnomads.com/kel-suu-lake-kyrgyzstan/#:~:text=before%20Kel%20Suu.-,Kok%20Kiya%20Valley,-is%20worth%20it">Kok-Kiya Valley</a> and spent the night at a mountain camp. No fancy roads here&mdash;just adventure!
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight(s):&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Drinking mugs of vodka while snow flurried around the cozy gathering yurt.&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">A Kyrgyz guide leading a tour group took me under his wing, and he even convinced me to stand up and give a toast&mdash;which turned into such a special moment.&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">My friend, Kash, was getting sicker and finally had to make the decision to return to Bishkek for medical care. This only made the &lsquo;highlights&rsquo; list because it pushed me to make friends with the receptionist at our mountain inn, who decided last-minute to join me on the expedition.&nbsp;</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Off-roading using GPS coordinates found on the internet = a legit survival game.&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Showing up at the yurt camp to find&hellip; no yurts. Nada. We had to get creative. There&rsquo;s nothing quite like trying to talk an innkeeper into letting two unexpected guests stay, on a very limited budget (no ATMs in the middle of nowhere), in a language I don&rsquo;t speak!</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Sweating gas usage like it was liquid gold&mdash;I may or may not have ended up talking a border official into donating a sneaky Coke bottle of fuel.&nbsp;</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest thing I saw:&nbsp;</h6>
Golden marmots everywhere! As soon as we hit 3000 meters, these little guys were popping up like it was their own personal party.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most surprising thing I ate:&nbsp;</h6>
Yak and horse meat. Not my favourite, but I tasted it!

<h3>Day 7: Return to Civilization (Sort of)</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:&nbsp;</h6>
Started the day on horseback to the stunning <a href="https://www.journalofnomads.com/kel-suu-lake-kyrgyzstan/">Kel-Suu Lake</a>, then braved six hours of off-road mud madness back to Naryn. And then treated myself to a bonus two-hour drive to the town of Kochkor to get a head start on the cross-country drive the next day.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
Waking up to sunshine sparkling on fresh snow like some kind of high-altitude fairytale. Arriving at Kel-Suu, right near the Chinese border, and realizing: I actually made it. Just me, my determination, and a wildly unreliable (knowledge of how to read) GPS.&nbsp;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Oh, where to begin? A casual mud marathon of a drive</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">A snow-glare sunburn that lit my face on fire</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">White-knuckling it through pitch black mountain passes.&nbsp;</li>
</ul>
Bonus round? Rolling into Kochkor at 11:15pm with no hotel, no internet, no backup plan, and no idea if Kash was even still alive. I ended up calling a random guesthouse number I had scribbled down and winging a conversation in Russian to ask if I could crash at their place. As you do.

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest thing I saw:&nbsp;</h6>
Yak everywhere! Just strolling up to Kel-Suu without a care in the world.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most surprising thing I ate:&nbsp;</h6>
Chips and granola bars... for lunch and dinner. Turns out, everything was closed. Moral of the story? Never underestimate the power of stuffing snacks into every bag, pocket, and glove compartment you&rsquo;ve got.

<h3>Day 8: Banyas, Beds, and Bliss in Bishkek</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:&nbsp;</h6>
Wrapped up the trip with a four-hour drive back to Bishkek. Made a pit stop for some shockingly good KFC, and marvelled at the boundless poppy fields along the way. Checked into a swanky 4-star hotel with a bed so comfy it should be illegal, reunited with Kash, then hit up a <a href="https://liamapollodoherty.com/2021/08/18/big-up-the-banya/">banya</a> for some serious steam healing.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
The banya experience was enlightening. I made fast friends with a savvy local who schooled me on leaf-whacking etiquette&mdash;yes, that&rsquo;s a thing. I loved pushing myself outside my comfort zone. Also&hellip; room service! Mattress! Pool!
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenge(s):&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Battling the chaotic traffic and sneaky speed traps of Bishkek (apparently speed limits are mere suggestions here).&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Hitting the banya solo, despite warnings that it would make me look &ldquo;like a real loser.&rdquo; (A helpful expat explained to me that in Kyrgyzstan, going to the banya is a community activity, and is more about spending time with friends than anything else.)</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Finally, reuniting with Kash, who&rsquo;d taken a sketchy taxi back from Naryn&mdash;cue a dramatic &ldquo;You&rsquo;re alive!&rdquo; door-opening moment.</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest thing I saw:&nbsp;</h6>
Endless fields of wild red poppies stretching into the mountains, looking like nature&rsquo;s very own red carpet.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most surprising thing I ate:&nbsp;</h6>
That KFC&mdash;crispy, juicy, and basically the best fried chicken I didn&rsquo;t know I needed.

<h3>Day 9: From Yurt Pads to Pillow-Tops</h3>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Itinerary:&nbsp;</h6>
Took a breather in Bishkek&mdash;tracked down a long-lost relative who&rsquo;d moved here in the 90s, <a href="https://www.livetheworld.com/post/three-most-iconic-bazaars-of-bishkek-uiob#google_vignette">wandered the markets</a>, and squeezed in one last blissful massage.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Highlight:&nbsp;</h6>
Shopping for Russian Matryoshka dolls like a pro. Returning the rental car with no new dings (basically a miracle). Plus, staying in a 5-star hotel without needing to sell a kidney&hellip;
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Challenges:&nbsp;</h6>
<ul>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">People, people everywhere. This was especially jarring after 8 days in the wilderness.</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Shopping was a full-contact sport, with crowds swarming every aisle.&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Trying to nab a taxi in the chaos of downtown Bishkek? Pure madness.&nbsp;</li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">And the markets? A five-story maze stuffed to the brim with everything from samovars to knock off sneakers.&nbsp;</li>
</ul>

<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Coolest thing I saw:&nbsp;</h6>
A Soviet-era sickle, tucked away in a corner of the market. Did I buy it, even though I was travelling carry-on only, and then had to buy another suitcase to get it home? Absolutely.
<h6 dir="ltr" role="presentation">Most surprising thing I ate:&nbsp;</h6>
<a href="https://www.instagram.com/chocolate_yahya/?hl=en">Chocolate from Yahya&rsquo;s</a>. Lemon-yuzu, raspberry-balsamic, tea-infused&mdash;you name it, I devoured it. Basically, Yahya&rsquo;s is my new addiction.

In the end, it wasn&rsquo;t just the altitude that took my breath away &mdash; it was the wildness of it all. The endless mountains. The strangers who became companions. The freezing fog, the burning thighs, the mysterious meals. Kyrgyzstan didn&rsquo;t just push me out of my comfort zone &mdash; it obliterated it, and replaced it with something far more raw, real, and unforgettable.
Adventure isn&rsquo;t always Instagrammable. It&rsquo;s messy, unpredictable, and sometimes smells like yak milk and muscle rub.

Kyrgyzstan: Snapshots from an Expedition

Simon scales fences, evades police and crawls through asbestos. I followed him into the dark to understand what dead places do to the living.&nbsp;
<hr>

A burly man, cloaked in black, waits for me in the deadzone of security cameras. I&rsquo;ve known him for all of half an hour, and now here I sit, teetering atop a 10ft fence, trusting that he&rsquo;ll catch me if I fall. My cotton gloves are useless, offering no protection as the chain links dig into my skin. One foot scrambles for a hold, dangling for a second too long; far below, the ground is a m&eacute;lange of brambles and broken concrete.&nbsp;
Expertly reeling, my mind fires off a million worst-case scenarios: a broken ankle, a dog chase, disappearing off the face of the earth. My phone buzzed in my pocket &mdash; a friend&rsquo;s text from Canada, &ldquo;You alive?&rdquo; as if her panic could bridge an ocean.
I&rsquo;d sent her his Instagram profile earlier: no last name, no identifiable locations, zero posts of sunlight. Just a feed of abandoned nuclear sites. I prayed she&rsquo;d at least pick a flattering thumbnail for the inevitable true-crime podcast.&nbsp;
And yet, there&rsquo;s something entirely too intoxicating about this moment. A forbidden dare, a promise of secret worlds hidden in plain sight. The rush comes before I even hit the ground.&nbsp;

Simon in the ruins of St. Elizabeth&rsquo;s&mdash;once a site of Walter Freeman&rsquo;s experimental lobotomies, now only ghosts and dust remain.
<hr>

This is Urbex &mdash; urban exploration &mdash; the exploration of manmade structures usually off-limits or abandoned; a regular Thursday for my new friend Simon, the man in black.
We connected weeks earlier through a dead Reddit thread, his username half-buried between broken links and breadcrumb co-ordinates. No small talk, no promises &mdash; this wasn&rsquo;t a tour. Just a time he&rsquo;d pick me up and the unspoken rule: &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t slow me down.&rdquo;
Later, I&rsquo;d ask him about the moment he fell in love with Urbex. He thinks for a moment before answering with certainty.&nbsp;
"The atmosphere&hellip; It&rsquo;s like seeing the earth without humans. It&rsquo;s ephemeral, temporary, history and adrenaline all wrapped in one. And photography, of course."
He pauses, a glint of passion in his eyes. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s about capturing something that&rsquo;s fading, something that won&rsquo;t be there forever.&rdquo;

Chernobyl&rsquo;s exclusion zone, nuclear bunkers and NYC&rsquo;s legendary TB sanatorium are some of the hundreds of sites featured on Simon&rsquo;s Instagram &mdash; an apocalyptic obsession fuelled by more than a decade of exploration.&nbsp;

Just as hackers, lurking in the shadows of society, bypassing firewalls and cracking code, urbexers chase the thrill of uncovering a backdoor into the supposedly inaccessible.
The son of a photographer, documenting his adventures is essential to him, as is the web of intricate tattoos sprawled across his skin; both ink and images are a blueprint of a life lived on the edge. He&rsquo;s mastered the classic &ldquo;hero shot:&rdquo; a solitary figure, often snapped from behind, half swallowed by shadow and dwarfed by the grandeur of decay.&nbsp;
And yet when he&rsquo;s not scaling walls or sneaking past security, he&rsquo;s behind a screen, crafting code, a master of both domains.&nbsp;

Back in Hungary, en route to the first of two sites Simon has agreed to show me, I launch into question mode. Naturally, I want to know if he&rsquo;s ever been busted, and the probability of being caught today. With his eyes focused on the road, I&rsquo;m speaking mostly to his face tattoo, a leviathan cross on the side of his cheek. Its meaning I can only guess.&nbsp;
&ldquo;Yeah, I got caught sleeping in my hammock at Baikonur.&rdquo; 
Baikonur, I am to learn, is an abandoned military base in the desert of Kazakhstan, a cathedral to the USSR&rsquo;s failed Buran space program, housing two enormous, decrepit Soviet space shuttles.
Simon tells me of his masochistic journey there: A three day, forty kilometer night hike through the desert and a subsequent four days inside a Soviet military prison &mdash; a small price to pay for his SD card.&nbsp;

The ultimate endgame for Urbex explorers. Baikonur is sealed off, locked down, and just waiting for someone to bypass its firewall.
<hr>

Thankfully, battling sandstorms isn&rsquo;t on our agenda today. But we are going to visit another legendary spot in the Urbex community: Kelenfold Power Station.
Following the fence jump, Simon lays his backpack over the twisted snarls of a barbed wire hole I am to climb through. He emphasizes the importance of taking quiet, calculated movements,&nbsp;&ldquo;I once fell through the roof of an abandoned morgue, got stuck between the roof and the glass and cut my arm up real bad.&rdquo;
Despite his broad frame, he slips through with expert ease, a feat that seems almost cruel as I attempt to follow. His boots looked like they&rsquo;d kicked in every door between here and Chernobyl.&nbsp;
Mine? Soft-toed Sketchers with arch support, the kind reviewed by moms visiting Disneyland. Half his size, yet twice as clumsy, I muddle through, my down jacket a caught bird against the steel. The Urbex hierarchy was clear.

Curious about the practical side of his explorations, I ask for tips for anyone looking to dive into Urbex. 
He laughs softly and begins listing off essentials, as if reciting a well-practiced guide:&nbsp;&ldquo;Start in your own area first, get to know the terrain. Always take gloves, good shoes with steel boots, and a hazmat mask, especially for industrial places&mdash;if it&rsquo;s been reconstructed in the 20th century, there&rsquo;s likely asbestos. Dark clothing or green for forests, cream for deserts. And don&rsquo;t forget a good torch. Lighting is key.&rdquo;
As we climb the staircase to the control room, it&rsquo;s clear he&rsquo;s been here many times before. His head darting left and right, he checks for signs of security, averting invisible broken glass and warning me which areas of the floor might fold under my weight. It&rsquo;s the kind of movement that comes from knowing this crumbling world.

You wouldn&rsquo;t think it, but this decaying plant was a Hungarian national treasure and, at the turn of the nineteenth century, one of the most advanced power centers on the continent &mdash; the lungs of the city. Nowadays, there&rsquo;s no air left. Just the faint taste of something metallic and dust.&nbsp;
Here, beneath the roar of wartime fighter jets, engineers orchestrated Hungary&rsquo;s surge into the future. Fine-tuning the flow of electricity to more than 800,000 citizens, feeding the beast required 1,000 tons of coal and 500,000 cubic meters of water per day. Amidst clouds of steam and machinery, dozens of above-ground bomb shelters stand guard, with room for no more than 2 in each space.&nbsp;
The main attraction of the factory is undoubtedly its Art Deco control room, which miraculously remained unscathed during the war. Once a grandiose temple to electricity, it has served as a backdrop to several dystopian films such as Chernobyl Diaries, Spy and Dracula.&nbsp;

Bakelite buttons and iron-clad gauges&mdash;this is how Cold War Budapest kept the lights on.
<hr>

Under the honeyed glow of its stained glass skylight, it&rsquo;s clear that, for architects K&aacute;lm&aacute;n Reichl and Virgil Borb&iacute;r&oacute;, the fusion of technology and design was a love affair.&nbsp;
Now its moss-hued control panels stand frozen in time, their purpose slowly fading into obscurity. A mere shadow of itself, it&rsquo;s mostly a backdrop for selfies now and sees only the occasional visit from a lone fox, which Simon tells me he&rsquo;s spotted several times.&nbsp;
As my eyes trail over the system of brass dials and switches I can&rsquo;t begin to fathom, they settle on a structure looming oppressively under the skylight in the center of the room. Another bomb shelter, a strange feature for such a crucial and exposed space.

Beneath Budapest&rsquo;s Kelenf&ouml;ld Power Plant, a hidden maze of nuclear-proof tunnels winds through the darkness&mdash;some leading to command bunkers, others to mysterious collapsed passages. Did they connect to the city&rsquo;s underground bunker network?
<hr>

The ghostly traces of factory workers linger in the air. How many unsettling glances were cast towards the shelter during their shift? What must it feel like to power a city, not knowing if you&rsquo;d ever see its light tomorrow?
I venture through a crumbling doorway behind the control room, my shoes crunching on broken glass, beer cans and garbage.
Wading my way through the debris, the contrast between urban exploration and homelessness weighs heavily on me. Does it really matter why we&rsquo;re here, or is it just the privilege of being able to leave when we&rsquo;re done?
As quietly as we came, we leave Kelenfold&rsquo;s empty halls, adjusting to the cacophony of the city life once more. In the car, Simon schools me on the true motto of an Urbexer: Take only photographs, leave only footprints.
I nod sheepishly, a wave of regret washing over me as I shove the tiny memento I pocketed deeper, realizing just how much I still have to learn.&nbsp;

Whipping past fields of February&rsquo;s frozen wheat and maize, we&rsquo;re on the road once more toward an undisclosed location. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s important to make sure to tell at least one person where you&rsquo;re going,&rdquo; Simon advises me. But even with these co-ordinates&mdash;shared only with the utmost discretion in the Urbex world &mdash;my friend wouldn&rsquo;t stand a chance of finding me in this next place, a military bunker in the mountains.&nbsp;
Bunkers like this are kept under wraps for good reason. It&rsquo;s rare to uncover one so well-preserved. No vandalism, no pipes stripped of copper, you wouldn&rsquo;t even find it on the handful of websites listing Urbex co-ordinates for a price. Simon tells me these sites are a threat to the Urbex community, simply because arsonists, vandals, thieves, and anyone else with ill intentions could have access to them.
This specific place served as a communications bunker for the Hungarian military during the Cold War, intended to keep lines clear in the event of a nuclear attack.&nbsp;
Arriving at the edge of a forest, I&rsquo;m up for the scramble this time. The excitement of discovery quells any remaining unease and, without hesitation, I leave my rookie gloves in the car.
Beneath the crunch of leaves, the undergrowth is thick. We wander aimlessly, kicking our feet, looking for something, anything, out of place. Finally, an uneven patch of earth draws our attention. A rusted, half-buried entrance pulls us closer. The forest and I hold our breath.&nbsp;

&ldquo;There it is!&rdquo; For a moment we just stare, peering into the abyss, consumed by the thrill of what lies beyond. &ldquo;You good?&rdquo; asks Simon.&nbsp;
I&rsquo;m good.
Climbing deeper, I watch as he slides the bunker door open, the rusted hinges protesting with a sharp screech. Cold, stale air rushes out, thick with the scent of decay. The smell drags me back to the corridors of my old primary school in Ireland. With a shared look, a silent agreement, we climb down into the void.&nbsp;

For a moment, the blackness engulfs me. The silence presses in, and I can&rsquo;t shake a thought: If a nuke ever did hit, wouldn&rsquo;t the real nightmare be to survive it?&nbsp;
How long would it take for time to become irrelevant in a place like this? When there&rsquo;s no sun, no sky, just recycled air and the hum of the generator ticking louder than any clock.&nbsp;
And what gnaws worse at the mind: Watching rations dwindle by the day? Or not knowing which is more hellish, the world above or the one unravelling inside your head?
Shuddering, I hurry along the corridor, closing the distance to my comrade&rsquo;s footsteps, recalling his mention of a torch.&nbsp;

Even in the pitch black, Simon&rsquo;s excitement is electric &mdash; bouncing into every shadowed corner, something that almost feels too alive for this place. With a sharp click, the torch beam flares to life, but it struggles to keep up with his energy. Like thunder following a flash.&nbsp;
And at that moment, I got it. We&rsquo;re alike in more ways than I thought. I feel the same thrill he gets from exploring new corners of the world&mdash;he&rsquo;s just doing it underground. While others stick to the familiar, we seek the unknown, drawn to places that pulse with history; the harder to reach, the better. They remind us that we are part of something larger, a thread in the long tapestry of human existence, whose stories continue to shape the world we inhabit.&nbsp;
It&rsquo;s modern-day archeology.&nbsp;
The thought brings a question to my mind, &ldquo;Has any place ever completely changed your perspective?&rdquo; I ask. Simon&rsquo;s expression shifts as he recalls a particular location, the weight of the memory clearly heavy. &ldquo;I went to an abandoned asylum east of Belgium,&rdquo; he begins. &ldquo;It was different &mdash; a lot of disarray, but there was something about it. Taking something beautiful out of something awful. It felt like a moment of reconciliation.&rdquo;
But then his eyes darken a little, as if remembering something even more powerful. "I also visited a psychiatric hospital in Washington, DC," he says, his voice dropping slightly.&nbsp;
"I stood in the exact spot where Walter Freeman performed thousands of lobotomies [including Rosemary Kennedy]. It's surreal, standing there, knowing the history of that place &mdash; the lives it altered forever."

Simon's torch slices through the blackness. Light fills my eyes, and the space sharpens into focus. Rusted pipes trace a path across the ceiling, beckoning us further. It&rsquo;s less claustrophobic than I originally thought, with chambers jutting off in a dizzying number of directions.&nbsp;
Bunks stacked three high in rooms barely wide enough for two people side by side, a generator that looks as if it&rsquo;s been abandoned only yesterday, doors marked with weathered paper signs indicating their purpose in Hungarian.

I round the corner and step into a room thick with dust, the kind that threatens to steal any remaining air. All around me, old switchboards line the walls.&nbsp;
Rows of knobs, dials and tangled cords were once the only lifeline to the outside world.&nbsp;
Suddenly, the darkness engulfs me once more, as my only source of light jumps to the next room, leaving me both figuratively and literally in the dust.

Who sat here last. What was the final call they took, and who answered on the other side?&nbsp;
<hr>

I flick on my phone&rsquo;s torch, the last of my battery bleeding out into a dim cone of light. The hall stretches so far that the beam can&rsquo;t even touch the end. Following the faint echo of Simon&rsquo;s slow and deliberate footsteps, I go deeper, heart pounding louder than my soles, praying my light doesn&rsquo;t fall on something I can&rsquo;t unsee. 
The beam drags itself over the concrete, eventually probing the shape of a door. And to my surprise, I&rsquo;m reaching for the handle &mdash; Simon&rsquo;s gutsy antics have carved their mark deep. Its weight feels unnatural, taking all my strength to open, gradually revealing the bones of a radiation shower. It&rsquo;s probably the most pristine thing in here, gleaming coldly &mdash; just a forgotten relic now.&nbsp;

Tearing my gaze away, I turn to move deeper into the bunker, and a hint of light catches my eye ahead. It&rsquo;s not much, but it stands out against the suffocating darkness. I near the entrance and spot Simon&rsquo;s silhouette, crouched down, setting up his camera equipment in the middle of a large room. A faint scent of rot threatens my nostrils.&nbsp;
Inside, desks are arranged in orderly lines, their edges decaying, a thin layer of white mold creeps across their surface. The chairs are anchored curiously to the ground, likely to withstand tremors or a blast, or perhaps a fundamental reminder of the bunker&rsquo;s intent: maintaining rigidity and regime.&nbsp;

Stacks of paper are haphazardly scattered across the desks, revealing faded documents that tell us of a time when the bunker was still operational. It was abandoned in 1997, eight years after the fall of Hungary&rsquo;s communist dictatorship.&nbsp;
My eyes fix on a pair of green rubber boots, neatly lined up as if someone just stepped out of them.
&ldquo;What&rsquo;s the strangest stuff you&rsquo;ve seen while exploring?&rdquo; I ask Simon, my voice cutting through the silence. He doesn&rsquo;t seem to notice I&rsquo;ve been in the room the whole time, too absorbed in his task of setting up his tripod.&nbsp;
He glances up briefly. &ldquo;Oh, probably a toss-up between a human skeleton in a mortuary cabinet or a floating hand in formaldehyde. I also visited a French castle that was filled wall-to-wall with taxidermy. That definitely had a sinister energy.&rdquo;
Hmm. I nudge the boots over with my foot &mdash; suddenly they don&rsquo;t seem all that interesting.&nbsp;
I stare at him for a moment. It&rsquo;s strange how he seems so unaffected by the things he&rsquo;s seen, and I can&rsquo;t decide whether I admire his detachment or if it unsettles me.&nbsp;&nbsp;
How many places would I have to creep through before I stopped bracing for a jump scare?&nbsp;
&ldquo;You&rsquo;ve been doing this for a long time, huh?&rdquo; I ask, hoping to get a glimpse of what makes him tick. &ldquo;Long enough, since I was a teenager.&rdquo; His tone is flat, and I take the hint, leaving him to fine-tune his hero shot.&nbsp;
I drag my shoes across the floor, aiming for the entrance, eager to cut myself loose from this sterile place. I&rsquo;ve been in here too long and the coldness is starting to warp my perspective, seeping into my bones, feeding nihilistic thoughts I&rsquo;d rather not face.&nbsp;
I&rsquo;m still not convinced that this is the better of two endings. Ultimately, it&rsquo;s a hole in the ground where, rather than succumbing to radioactive fallout, those deemed worthy of its stale air choose the false comfort of starving to death.

Stepping into the daylight brings a rush of relief. February&rsquo;s frigid air feels welcome on my face, sharp and cleansing, shaking off any lingering dust from my lungs.
The next few hours back to Budapest are mostly quiet. Simon asks if I&rsquo;m cool with music. I nod, psyching myself up for a wall of thrash or metal to shred my senses, something to match his imposing frame and unreadable expression.&nbsp;
But what comes is barely music at all &mdash; a soft ambient lilt drifts through the car like mist, a gentle counterpoint to the questions I let hang in the air. With each quiet pause, the man whose formidable presence had once felt intimidating becomes someone who knows the value of softness and when to speak.&nbsp;
I ask him where he draws the line between trespassing and urban exploring, and he tells me, without hesitation, that for him the boundary is clear: &ldquo;Personally, I draw the line at exploring private residences. Taking photos of people&rsquo;s belongings and property feels like crossing a boundary, and if gaining access requires breaking something, that&rsquo;s a step too far.&rdquo;&nbsp;

Simon documents the haunting Chavalon Power Plant, where Switzerland's last oil-fired turbines fell silent in the turn of the millennium. This concrete beast now offers Urbexers a maze of derelict control rooms and oil-stained floors.&nbsp;
<hr>

I ask if there&rsquo;s any place he regrets not being able to explore, and his answer comes with a hint of nostalgia.&nbsp;
&ldquo;It would be the old Gentbrugge power station in Belgium. Now it&rsquo;s completely scrapped, but when I first started, it was an untouched industrial gem &mdash; two massive rusty turbines, great decay, plants growing everywhere. It was one of the first places I looked for, and I never got to see it in its prime."

This once-grand Italian mental asylum still holds its darkest secrets, including preserved electroshock equipment that whispers of medicine's dark past.&nbsp;
<hr>

Back on the whirring streets of Budapest, we climb out of the car to bid our final farewell. Looking around me, something feels different now. I&rsquo;m noticing the small, subtle details of weathered buildings I would&rsquo;ve otherwise overlooked. I wonder how many house treasures for those fearless enough to investigate.&nbsp;
I hesitate before saying goodbye. The day&rsquo;s adrenaline still hums in my heart, and for a moment, I don&rsquo;t want to let go &mdash; don&rsquo;t want to surrender the version of myself that climbed fences and confidently clutched barbed wire. &ldquo;Where to next?&rdquo; I ask bitter-sweetly.&nbsp;&ldquo;A few more bunkers here and then on to Romania.&rdquo;
Then, with a spark in my eye, I wondered out loud about his dream destination. Without hesitation, he answers: &ldquo;Abandoned submarines. It&rsquo;s the ultimate quest. I tried in Portugal, but I couldn&rsquo;t get inside. It&rsquo;s like chasing a ghost, you know?&rdquo;
He saunters off, walking away without a backward glance. I raise my hands &mdash; cotton gloves more hole than fabric now &mdash; and frame him between my thumbs in the shape of a viewfinder. A lone shadow dissolving into the sepia smear of Budapest's 8th district.&nbsp;
The true hero shot.

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Sometimes you just want to get off the beaten track and explore the more isolated places of the world. However, getting to these places can often be both challenging and expensive. We've put together a guide on how to get to some of the most remote places on earth for under &pound;500 (And a few for under &pound;1,000) for you.
This list is not an exhaustive guide and we'd highly recommend doing your own research before making your way to the places below.
<h2>1. Gurbantunggut Desert, China</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/0d61be165463a34e5e17d70fcc6d3f45503865cc" alt="Gurbantunggut Desert China" width="740" height="450">
The Gurbantunggut Desert is China&rsquo;s second largest desert behind Taklamakan Desert and occupies 50,000 square kilometers of Northern Xinjiang. It&rsquo;s one of the most arid areas of the world but it is nearby to the glacial mountains of Tian Shan which is a major water source for the province.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
To get to the Gurbantunggut Desert you can take a flight from London to &Uuml;r&uuml;mqi (URC) the Capital city of Xinjiang province for around &pound;419 (With Tianjin and Hainan Airlines). This may include a stop at XIY Xi An Xianyang
Best time to visit for under &pound;500 is September - December
<ul>
<li>Once at &Uuml;r&uuml;mqi take a one hour bus/train at a cost of &pound;2 to the city of Shihezi, than take another bus to Group 150 (Yes this is a place, named by the military) for another hour for around &pound;1.</li>
<li>After arrival at Group 150, take a taxi or a coach for the last 10 km for a further &pound;1.</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;423</li>
</ul>
<h2>2. Supai, Arizona</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/65fb2c184ae2c2cff16974e8eedda9fd112aa41b" alt="Supai Arizona Waterfall" width="740" height="562">
Visiting Supai isn't for the inexperienced traveller. It&rsquo;s one of the most remote communities in the USA, sits 8 miles from the nearest road and the mail delivery service for it&rsquo;s 43 households is carried out by a team of...mules. Home of the glorious Havasupai falls it&rsquo;s not a place to be missed, however.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Getting to Supai is unsurprisingly pretty difficult. You can get return flights to Las&nbsp;Vegas from London for around &pound;300. From there you&rsquo;re going to want to rent a car for the 4 hour drive to the Hualapai Hilltop which is essentially a car park where your options are an 8 mile hike to the village or the more pricey option of a helicopter ride. As we&rsquo;re on a budget we&rsquo;re going to recommend the hike here.
Dates: mid March - early April
<ul>
<li>London Heathrow (LHR) &ndash; Las Vegas (LAS): &pound;350 *via a short stopover in LA with American Airlines</li>
<li>Car hire: &pound;88</li>
<li>Entrance fee to the park: &pound;38</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;476</li>
</ul>
<h2>3. Kolsai Lakes, Kazakhstan</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/e2d32256dd3781f6d6e68490a8fd73bd45369cd3" alt="Kolsai Lakes Kazakhstan" width="740" height="587">
Around 75 miles southeast of Almaty and near the north slope of the Tian Shan Mountains sits the breathtaking Kolsai lakes national park. At its centre are the Kolsai lakes, often referred to as &lsquo;The pearls of Tien Shan&rsquo;, an untouched, scenic area of Kazakhstan.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
The first part of the journey involves flying into Almaty airport which can be done from London for &pound;380 return. You should be able to get a taxi from there to Saty for around &pound;16 return.
The first lake is fairly easy to get to by taxi or hitchhiking thanks to a new asphalt road from Saty. You are then able to hike to the second but make sure you take your passport as there is a border patrol due to the proximity of the Kyrgyzstan border.
These flights were found for 6th - 13th June but prices are consistent for a week long trip between April - June
<ul>
<li>London Heathrow LHR &ndash; Almaty International ALA: &pound;389 *with Aeroflot (Includes a short stopover in Sheremetyevo International Airport, Moscow)</li>
<li>Taxi: &pound;16 return</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;396</li>
</ul>
<h2>4. Faroe Islands</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/599e78da4b094f5f5dfc62f919c335bbf25635e9" alt="Faroe Islands Overview" width="740" height="584">
The Faroe Islands is a little closer to home than some of the other locations on this list but it&rsquo;s still very much off the beaten track, in fact it&rsquo;s about as remote as you can get and quite difficult to get to from the UK with ease. Our flight hackers have managed to figure out how to get you those of you who fancy an adventure for under &pound;250.
6 of the islands are connected by road so you can soak up the vast amount of snow-capped scenery from a rental car once you have arrived at the pocket sized Vagar Airport.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Dates: throughout May
<ul>
<li>London Heathrow - Copenhagen - Vagar Airport Faroe Islands: &pound;253 *Airline: Scandinavian</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;253</li>
</ul>
<h2>5. Chang Tang, Tibet</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/2ba3e4a730752e9c165232a8280588c805fb482f" alt="Chang Tang Tibet" width="740" height="534">
Chang Tang is located to the west of the Tibetan Plateau and sits at an altitude of over 4000m. It&rsquo;s a truly wild and untouched 700,000 km2 area of largely uninhabited land which possesses harsh, arctic like winters.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Dates: March 24th - April 8th. Similar prices around late March - early April
<ul>
<li>Fly to from London to Leh, India for &pound;469 return with a long stop in Delhi.</li>
<li>From here you&rsquo;ll need to rent a car as its a 4hr bumpy ride towards the Tibetan Plateau *Airline: Air India</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;480</li>
</ul>
<h2>6. Kungsleden, Sweden</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/7a98dcf5bbe5d33b356e8d02990d5a213f7eda0e" alt="Kungsleden Sweden" width="733" height="589">
Northern Sweden is perfect for the more ambitious wilderness loving travellers. Kungleden, also know as the Kings Path is 270mile long hiking trail between Abisko (North) and Hemavan (South Sweden). The trail passes through the Game of Thrones esk Vindelfjallen nature reserve which has to be seen to be believed.
Huts, which are located 6-14 miles apart, are open between mid-June and end of September but the weather is usually unpredictable and potentially treacherous all year round.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
<ul>
<li>You can fly from London Heathrow to Kiruna for &pound;246 in June with BA &amp; SAS via Stockholm.</li>
<li>From there it&rsquo;s a 1.5 hour bus ride to Abisko for around &pound;10</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;256</li>
</ul>
<h2>7. Andaman Islands</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/ab92fd1359b100882bae286c928ea023129a7435" alt="Andaman Islands Beach" width="740" height="634">
The beautiful and largely untouched Andaman Islands are located in the Bay of Bengal between India and Myanmar. The islands are home to a number of tribes, including the Sentinelese, known for their hostility towards visitors. Many of the inhabitants have had little contact with the outside world. Only a dozen or so of the 300 islands are even open to visitors so this is a must visit for those looking to tick off a major place on their remote location bucket list. We&rsquo;ve figured out how to get you there for under &pound;500
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Dates: September - October
<ul>
<li>Flights to Chennai, India from London Gatwick can come to a cost of around &pound;345 *with Qatar Airlines (Via connecting flight in DOH Hamad International)</li>
<li>From Chennai it&rsquo;s onto Veer Savarkar airport, also known as Port Blair which is the main airport for the Andaman Islands, this will set you back a further &pound;58 with Air India.</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;403</li>
</ul>
<h2>8. Rila National Park, Bulgaria</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/7ecf4aeddb4215bc1a29c829e244c98afc69922b" alt="Rila National Park Bulgaria" width="740" height="509">
Rila National Park is the largest nature reserve in Bulgaria that stretches across more than 800 square kilometers. Rila is perfect for blue lakes and hiking enthusiasts and it&rsquo;s only 100km away from the Bulgarian capital, Sofia. This means we have figured out how to get you there for a mere &pound;33!
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Dates: end of March - early April but cheap flights to Sofia can be found most of the year with Ryanair
<ul>
<li>Flights from London Stansted to Sofia: &pound;28</li>
<li>Bus from Sofia to Rila National Park: &pound;5</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;33</li>
</ul>
<h2>9. Siwa Oasis, Egypt</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/211de9ede0a0c35dfc4bde40fd24c17744daa34e" alt="Siwa Oasis Egypt" width="739" height="629">
Siwa is the ideal location for those desert daydreamers. Despite its arid appearance, Siwa is home to both olive and palm trees as well as multiple crystal clear springs which are dotted throughout.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Flying to Cairo can be done with Ukraine airlines for around the &pound;200 mark. From here you have a rather long drive of around 740km which could take 10 hours+. There is a night bus option which departs Cairo at 11pm and this only costs around &pound;8.
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;208</li>
</ul>
<h2>10. Guam, Micronesia</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/7f5402f0311141111d21f175a4feb6d3a4b7b42b" alt="Guam Micronesia" width="740" height="560">
If remote for you is crystal clear lagoons and white sandy beaches then the Micronesia island of Guam is for you, and we&rsquo;ve found out how to get you there for under &pound;500. The whole island is only 210sq miles, surrounded by coral reef it&rsquo;s the perfect place for avid scuba divers and snorkelers. Located in Typhoon alley, the higher risk months of a tropical storm are between August and October, so if you&rsquo;re looking to stay dry then visit in the dry season between December and June.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Dates: between March - June and September - November
<ul>
<li>China airlines are offering a route from London via a night stopover in Taipei each way for &pound;492.</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;492</li>
</ul>
<center>
<h2>Here are 3 more for under &pound;1k...</h2>
</center>
<h2>11. Barrow, Alaska</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/1a6391ed4175250800ac0bda639f27b0ab6fa577" alt="Barrow Alaska" width="695" height="613">
Ok, this one isn't under our &pound;500 threshold but we still think it&rsquo;s worth including as special mention as you can&rsquo;t really talk about remote destinations without including Alaska. Barrow, also known as Utqiagvik, is one of those unique areas of the world that basks in 24 hour sunlight for over 80 days in the summer and then the locals endure a complete blackout for over 60 days in the winter. Based at the tip of Alaska, you&rsquo;ll struggle to find more remote surroundings.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
We&rsquo;ve found flights from Dublin to Anchorage for as low as &pound;500 with Aer Lingus before and we know connecting flights to Barrow from Anchorage can cost around &pound;250. So you could experience this one of a kind location for around the &pound;750 mark.
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;750</li>
</ul>
<h2>12. Cape York Peninsula, Australia</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/e79cdcc9eb6792d0187413954224a10a417e8b5a" alt="Cape York Peninsula Australia" width="740" height="547">
The Cape York Peninsula runs parallel to the Great Barrier Reef and is located north of Cairns. It&rsquo;s nearest city however is in Papua New Guinea and not Australia, that&rsquo;s how remote this place is. Tackling Cape York means spending a few weeks in the bush, in near complete isolation with just your travel partner, your jeep and the scattered fuel roadhouses located every few hundred km for company. The juice is worth the squeeze if you like having your breakfast near pristine waterfalls, spending your days walking through rainforests and your evenings camping on deserted beaches. We&rsquo;ve found out how to get you there for only a touch over &pound;600 which includes a weeks 4x4 hire and a return flight.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
Flights in March to September can be found for under &pound;600
<ul>
<li>London to Cairns &pound;498 rtn (During March) *with China Southern via a stopover in Guangzhou</li>
<li>7 day hire of 4x4: &pound;140</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;638</li>
</ul>
<h2>13. Galapagos Islands</h2>
<img src="https://d20k4h1q6oowm6.cloudfront.net/id/bee8b60dc0e9532dee14d49cc2a3ddcfb15a8dfa" alt="Galapagos Islands" width="740" height="539">
Known for it&rsquo;s rare wildlife, The Galapagos are a pristinely preserved set of Islands off the coast of Ecuador. The islands and their surroundings are home to flamingos, sea lions, whales, rare birds and of course the Galapagos Giant Tortoise.
<h3>How to get there</h3>
In order to get to the islands you first have to fly into Quito, Ecuador. A return flight from Quito can be done for under &pound;500 via an overnight connection in Mexico City. From there the Galapagos can only be reached via another flight from Quito, which usually costs around &pound;427.
<ul>
<li>London Heathrow - Mexico City, Mexico - Quito, Ecuador: &pound;498 *(September 2019) with AeroMexico</li>
<li>Quito - Galapagos: $553 (&pound;427)</li>
<li>&pound;15 for the Ingala transit control card</li>
<li>Park entrance fee, non-residents of Ecuador 12+ years: &pound;77</li>
</ul>
<hr class="style1">
<ul>
<li>Total cost: &pound;1,017 (Let&rsquo;s blame the exchange rate for this being slightly over)</li>
</ul>
<center>
. . .
Still have questions? Feel free to drop us a message on <a href="mailto:support@jacksflightclub.com%E2%80%9D">support@jacksflightclub.com</a>&nbsp;and we'll be happy to help.
Please note, while we do have links to other websites in our articles, none are affiliate links and we do not benefit from you clicking on them, we just think they are a good resource :)
</center>

How to get to some of the most remote places on earth for under £500

An underground town, and other weird, wacky and unusual architecture

Hey there, JFC-ers,
We've got a lot to celebrate this week! The party kicked off with <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/2025/03/photos-carnival-2025-around-world/681910/">Mardi Gras and Carnival</a> celebrations around the world, while those of us in the UK whipped out the pancakes on Tuesday. In fact, some parts of England have turned into <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c4g089vvn4ko">quite the sport</a>. Here at JFC, we celebrated our own way, with a brand-new <a href="https://members.jacksflightclub.com/travel-hub/new-orleans-destination-guide">New Orleans guide</a>.
Next came time to digest all the excitement with a quiet moment on World Book Day. The bookworms among you may fancy taking a look back at our article on&nbsp;<a href="https://members.jacksflightclub.com/travel-hub/unique-and-quirky-destinations-for-book-lovers">quirky destinations for book lovers</a> to help plan your next trip.
And then comes tomorrow's International Women's Day! From the <a href="https://www.exodus.co.uk/insights/historys-boldest-female-travellers">inspirational travellers</a> who came before us, to the&nbsp;<a href="https://www.unearthwomen.com/5-matriarchal-societies-where-women-are-in-charge/">women-led societies</a> that still exist around the world, I'll be celebrating by letting the women of this world fuel my insatiable wanderlust.
Happy travels and safe landings,

Katy - Editor of The Detour

Arizona's Essential Out-of-This-World Road Trip Pit Stop

San Diego native Olivia left home two years ago to live on the road, but she always ends up back on the West Coast. When she's not hiking through the desert or the woods, she can usually be found exploring her current city and scoping out the best bars and coffee shops.

Written by Olivia

If you&rsquo;ve ever driven down the heavily trafficked Interstate 10 through Eastern Arizona, you have probably encountered a few billboards for a mysterious roadside attraction:&nbsp;
&ldquo;THE THING? YOU&rsquo;LL BE AMAZED!&rdquo;
&ldquo;THE THING? IT&rsquo;S A WONDER!&rdquo;
&ldquo;THE THING? YOU WON&rsquo;T FORGET IT!&rdquo;
In a distinctive shade of sunny yellow, these cryptic billboards arrive every fifty or so miles down the highway and have been turning heads <a href="https://www.reddit.com/r/nostalgia/comments/t9ju4y/the_thing_arizona_1967/">since the 1960s</a>. If you&rsquo;re a connoisseur of tacky roadside attractions like me, they&rsquo;re highly effective at making you memorize that exit number (exit 322) and flick that righthand turn signal when you see it.
When I finally arrive at the exit, a matching yellow building promises a museum and gift shop.

I enter to find a typical southwestern travel center. Think Native and Mexican goods, and snowglobes of landscapes that have never seen snow. I am directed to the far corner of the store, past the aisles of t-shirts and talavera pottery. In this corner, there is a door under a chain of neon lights.&nbsp;
&ldquo;Hi,&rdquo; I say to the woman sitting by the door. &ldquo;I want to see the Thing.&rdquo;
&ldquo;You&rsquo;re in the right place. Cash or card?&rdquo;
I am charged five dollars to see the Thing. I have not been given any further information about what I&rsquo;ve just paid for, but I still have a feeling this is a bargain.&nbsp;
Now, if there is any chance you&rsquo;ll ever find yourself on this lonely stretch of I-10, I suggest you stop reading here before I spoil the entire surprise. This is the sort of attraction that you have to enter blindly.&nbsp;
Ticket in hand, I go through the door with absolutely no idea what is on the other side. It opens into a long, colorfully lit hallway.

The first thing I notice is a giant statue of a dinosaur. The second thing I notice is a flying saucer surrounded by alien mannequins. These are tied together with a series of plaques and murals that begin with one bold declaration: Aliens visited Earth during the time of dinosaurs and conquered them using mind control helmets.
Okay. Definitely a bargain.
I read every word of every plaque, and the story unfolds. After eons of cerebral interference from the aliens, the dinosaurs gained sentience and started fighting back, and eventually their interplanetary enemies send the Chicxulub asteroid to wipe them out.&nbsp;
The aliens go home, they come back millennia later, they find humanity, and they proceed to guide us through our entire history, which is told through more displays (including a life-size model of Winston Churchill riding in a Rolls driven by an alien, because you can&rsquo;t prove that never happened).
All of this information is delivered with passionate seriousness and just enough &ldquo;What if&hellip;&rdquo;s to maintain plausible deniability.

I would have considered this money well-spent if the museum ended here. But this is all pretext, the preparation, the prologue &mdash; we haven&rsquo;t even seen the actual THING yet. A plaque before the final room informs me that the attraction&rsquo;s founder, Thomas Prince, acquired it in 1950 through methods that are &ldquo;shrouded in secrecy.&rdquo;
I enter the final room. Speakers are looping the X-Files theme. It&rsquo;s a darker room than the others, lit by the glow of something roped off in the corner.&nbsp;
As I approach the exhibit, I see a glass coffin containing a mummy. It&rsquo;s holding a second, child-sized mummy. They are ambiguously inhuman, in a way that suggests either unearthliness or advanced decay.
This is the titular THING: two mummies, supposedly unidentifiable as terrestrial beings. They&rsquo;re here to ground everything we&rsquo;ve just seen into some kind of tangible fact. The rest is just statues and storytelling, but here we have the evidence.

The exhibit ends here and I am guided by signs back into the glaring fluorescents of the gift shop.&nbsp;
&ldquo;What did you think?&rdquo; asks the lady who sold me my ticket.
I am still absorbing many things, including the fact that I just witnessed a truly Barnum-esque sideshow in 2025, that I am absolutely going to write about this for JFC, and that I&rsquo;ve drunk coffees that cost more than that experience.
&ldquo;I thought it was great.&rdquo;
&ldquo;Oh, good. I&rsquo;m so glad.&rdquo; She is visibly relieved.
I suddenly get the vibe that this woman has dealt with disappointed tourists many, many times.
Because THE THING? isn&rsquo;t designed to impress, not genuinely. Like most roadside stops along American interstates, the ridiculousness is the attraction. It&rsquo;s an entire niche culture built on irony. Not everyone understands it, but if you want to get the most out of an American road trip, you have to let yourself in on the joke.

You shouldn&rsquo;t show up to a spot like this and feel disappointed when it turns out to be silly &mdash; you should show up because it will probably be silly. Because there&rsquo;s just something special about driving through hours of Nebraska farm land and finding a <a href="https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/carhenge">replica of Stonehenge made out of vintage cars</a>, or going out of your way for the <a href="https://www.travelks.com/listing/worlds-largest-ball-of-twine/2344/">world&rsquo;s largest ball of twine</a>. To paraphrase Ken Smith of Roadside America, a good highway attraction isn&rsquo;t about what it actually is, but the fact that <a href="https://www.routemagazine.us/stories/mystery-in-the-desert#:~:text=I%20say%20this%20a%20lot%2C%20but%20a%20good%20roadside%20attraction%E2%80%94it%20isn%E2%80%99t%20about%20what%20it%20is.%20It%E2%80%99s%20about%20what%20you%20remember.%20It%E2%80%99s%20about%20building%20a%20memory.">you&rsquo;ll always remember seeing it</a>.
When it comes to memorable hooks, it doesn&rsquo;t get much better than dinosaur mind control and alien mummies. And that was an intentional marketing ploy.&nbsp;
Do some Googling, and you can find a true, honest-to-God backstory for this funky exhibition. The aforementioned Thomas Prince is the source of those cryptic and eye-catching billboards, having displayed the Thing along the highway until his death in 1969.
The mummies were then purchased by Bowlin Travel Centers (a familiar name in these parts &mdash; nearly every service station seems to be under their jurisdiction) and Bowlin decided to dress up the mummies with a tale about aliens and dinosaurs.&nbsp;
After all, you gotta earn those five dollars, and sci-fi sells big in this part of the country. Just ask Roswell, New Mexico. Or Amargosa Valley, Nevada, where the mystique of nearby Area 51 drives folks towards UFO knick-knacks and a (legal) alien-themed brothel. If you&rsquo;re operating a funky attraction in the deserts of the Southwest, the real money is in making Ed Wood look like Spielberg.
But all of this only explains the events after Prince put the mummies on show. So&hellip; what are those mummies, then? Where were they found? Are they&hellip; real?

That&rsquo;s the thing about the Thing &mdash; officially, no one knows. There are a few competing theories (most involving some <a href="https://www.routemagazine.us/stories/mystery-in-the-desert#:~:text=%E2%80%9C%5BThe%20Thing%5D%20was,kinds%20of%20things.%E2%80%9D">arts and crafts</a>), but there are no definitive answers. If anyone at Bowlin has real concrete provenance for these figures, they&rsquo;re not talking. The secret of the mummies just might have died with Thomas Prince.
I think that&rsquo;s for the best. That last kernel of mystery makes it easier to forget every official bit of history and enjoy the gaff. A weary driver encounters enigmatic billboards, surrounded in every direction by miles of empty desert, and is offered a rare and glorious chance to suspend their disbelief to Fox Mulder levels.&nbsp;
It&rsquo;s roadside gold, an exhibit so sincere in its irony that it has drawn in visitors for six decades. Because it&rsquo;s not about whether those mummies were clearly papier-m&acirc;ch&eacute;, it&rsquo;s about the fact that you&rsquo;ll remember them forever.
So if you&rsquo;re ever driving down I-10 an hour east of Tucson, hit the brakes at exit 322. You won&rsquo;t forget it.

Travel Tales

Flight Finding Team Lead Allan is your expert on the inner workings of the airline world. If you&rsquo;ve ever seen a debut deal on a brand spanking new route or a bonkers drop on an old classic, you've got him to thank!

Answered by Allan

"Hello, I am flying out of LAX to Greece but returning from Rome. What are the best options, book one-ways, or multiple roundtrip flights with one carrier? I saw you had a LAX to Rome round trip with great pricing. How logical would it be to land at Rome and take a less quick jump from Rome to Athens?"

Hey dear reader!
Flight Nerd Allan here with just enough info to make this reality come true. Because it&rsquo;s become a bit of an open secret among my friends how much I love just poking around on Google Flights, I&rsquo;ve become the guy everyone goes to when they&rsquo;re looking for how to get somewhere for cheap. And the one thing I always say when they wanna go from the US to Europe&hellip;&nbsp;
&ldquo;All you need to book initially are the big pond-hopping flights across the Atlantic. Book any other legs on their own&rdquo;
It&rsquo;s pretty simple: if you try to book a multi-city trip that includes small inter-Europe flights, you might get into really expensive territory, as most search engines will default to keeping your flight with the same airline/alliance. So, if you&rsquo;re flying over with Delta, they&rsquo;ll try to offer you the regional flight with KLM or Air France, for example. And those can be crazy pricey.&nbsp;

Instead, find the best deal on the big flights, book those, and then book the smaller legs with a budget carrier on a totally separate booking. That way, you&rsquo;ll get an even better price than if you booked altogether.
And on this specific route, there&rsquo;s been even better news lately. Norse Atlantic just added a non-stop route from LAX to Athens - the first time this route has been served non-stop in years. Pair that with their non-stop to Rome from LAX and you have the makings of a beautiful &ldquo;in here, out over there&rdquo; trip. It may not come out quite as cheap as into Rome both ways, but it&rsquo;s going to be the best bargain for those looooong West Coast flights, and non-stop to boot.
Safe travels :-)

"What&rsquo;s the best way to get to Iceland from Los Angeles? And do you have an Iceland itinerary?"

Hey there!
Unfortunately, LA to Iceland is not a super convenient route. The Icelandic carriers don&rsquo;t fly planes big enough to reach LA from Keflav&iacute;k Airport, and their domestic US partners tend to be budget airlines like Frontier and Spirit.&nbsp;
If you look on Google Flights, you&rsquo;ll see loads of 1 or 2 stop options, usually stopping over in places like Denver, Houston or Baltimore. But I wouldn&rsquo;t recommend booking one of those unless you&rsquo;re on a strict timetable and only certain dates work.
If you have any bit of flexibility, I&rsquo;d watch out for deals from Seattle. Icelandair DO fly there and we usually see the non-stop from SEA to KEF in the $540s RT or so. Pair that with a $150 RT domestic flight up to Seattle from Los Angeles and you&rsquo;re looking at in itinerary around $700&nbsp; when most other one 1-stops from LA get closer to that $1,000 RT mark.
<a href="https://simpleflying.com/icelandair-will-fly-to-19-us-canadian-airports-this-year-with-record-flights/">This handy article</a> will give you a rundown of all the non-stop routes currently operating between the US and Iceland.

And as for an Iceland itinerary, well that all depends on your travel style! The classic &ldquo;must-sees&rdquo; within easy reach of Reykjav&iacute;k can be found on the popular <a href="https://www.re.is/golden-circle-tours/">Golden Circle</a> route.
For a short trip, this is a good aim. You can find loads of tour companies online offering single day trips on the route, covering the rugged landscapes of Thingvellir National park, the geysers of, well, Geysir, and the huuuuge Gulfoss waterfall.
But if you have more time to play with &mdash; and a bit of an adventurous side &mdash; that&rsquo;s where trips to Iceland get really interesting.&nbsp;
The country&rsquo;s main highway,&nbsp;<a href="https://www.nordicvisitor.com/blog/iceland-ring-road/">the Ring Road</a>, is the ultimate road trip if you&rsquo;re looking to spend 10&ndash;14 days checking out otherworldly landscapes, glaciers, waterfalls, black sand beaches and more. However, it&rsquo;s the <a href="https://anywhereweroam.com/f-roads-in-iceland/">F-roads</a> traversing the country&rsquo;s mountainous interior that&rsquo;ll really get your heart racing. Only accessible during the summer months, this is the way to get well-and-truly off the beaten path.&nbsp;
And although much of the country&rsquo;s allure lies away from its capital, do make time to spend a day or two in Reykjav&iacute;k itself! Between a class at <a href="https://theelfschool.com/">Elf School</a>, a visit to a somewhat <a href="https://www.phallus.is/">less conventional museum</a>, and checking out the street art as you pop between the local boutiques, there&rsquo;s more than enough to fill a short city break. Add in a summer <a href="https://adventures.is/blog/puffins-in-iceland/">puffin-spotting</a> or whale-watching tour, and your itinerary will be absolutely packed!&nbsp;
Hopefully you've got a few exciting ideas for your Iceland trip now! Have a fantastic time :-)
 Do you have a question you'd like answered in The Detour? Let us know below 👇

Reader's Corner

All the important (or silly, or strange) travel news from across web this week.
<ul></ul>
<ul>
<li>Great news, it's <a href="https://youtu.be/B4-L2nfGcuE">nesting season</a> in Big Bear Valley! </li>
<li>Want to glide through passport control? Remember not to wear a <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/news-and-advice/ai-passport-control-david-bowie-bali-indonesia-b2709656.html">t-shirt with your favourite musician's face</a> on it! </li>
<li>On your next trip to Croatia, you may be able to <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2025/mar/01/communist-tito-yugoslav-adriatic-luxury-beach-resort">book yourself a room</a> in the former holiday resort built for Tito's Yugoslav military. </li>
<li>And finally, Air India passengers flying from Chicago to Delhi on Thursday found themselves thanking <a href="https://www.tribuneindia.com/news/india/delhi-bound-air-india-flight-returns-to-chicago-after-being-airborne-for-10-hours-here-is-why/">clogged toilets</a> for their 10-hour flight to nowhere. Now that's what I call a crap flight!</li>
</ul>

Travel News

Arizona's Essential Out-of-This-World Road Trip Pitstop

<a href="https://www.fluentin3months.com/hello-in-vietnamese/">Xin Ch&agrave;o</a>, JFC-ers!
A week ago, I stepped off a plane in London Heathrow to be greeted by temperatures little above freezing. A stark contrast to the 30 &deg;C+ I&rsquo;d been experiencing in Ho Chi Minh City just 16 hours earlier, to say the least!&nbsp;
Between enjoying copious quantities of phở and soaking in lantern-lit streets, I was delighted to meet fellow JFC-ers who had been summoned by the call of Vietnam. Both by the pool and on the streets, we found ourselves surrounded by like-minded travellers, many spending a month or more traversing Southeast Asia.
In fact, my friend Rachel and I had the good fortune of arriving in both HCMC and Hội An just a couple of days behind JFC-ers Kate &amp; Bex, whom I first met in Bari&rsquo;s rather depressing ferry terminal during last year&rsquo;s&nbsp;<a href="https://lupine.co.uk/race/about.html">Lupine Race to Tirana</a>. Lucky for us, they&rsquo;d already sussed out great spots for beers with a view by the time we touched down (the first place we met in Ho Chi Minh was very literally called &lsquo;The View&rsquo;).
<img src="https://cdn.jacksflightclub.com/id/e7600ef86bbe632b9804dd601cace1aed9c9768b" width="459" height="344" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
There&rsquo;s nothing quite like getting travel tips and advice from other JFC-ers. All the recommendations I got from you to head up the coast to Da Nang and Hội An instead of Phu Quoc are a major part of what made my trip so memorable. The weather may not have smiled down upon us so much, but we were delighted just to spend hours getting lost in the historical old town.
And that leads me to the next ask. We&rsquo;re on the lookout for a new <a href="https://jacksflightclub.com/join-us">Senior Full Stack Developer</a> with a deep understanding of Python to join the Jack&rsquo;s Flight Club team! We usually find that the best candidates are already JFC-ers, so if you or anyone you know fits the bill, apply via the link above.
Happy travels and safe landings,

(Re-)Learning How to Cross the Road

Detour Editor Katy is a budget travel aficionado who has already travelled to more than 50 countries. Whether she's at home or on a foreign adventure, she has a particular talent for stumbling upon tasty Georgian restaurants.

Written by Katy

Lesson number one during any trip to Vietnam is crossing the road.
It sounds mundane, but honestly, it&rsquo;s far from it. Who needs to go skydiving, bungee jumping, or canyoning when you can simply cross from one side of Ben Thanh Market square to another.
Doing even a little research on Ho Chi Minh City will quickly tell you that motor scooters/mopeds are a way of life here, not just a means of getting from A to B. They&rsquo;re truly vehicles for the whole family (and their dog). In a densely-packed city of around 9 million, that makes for some seriously chaotic roads. But at least there are pedestrian crossings&hellip;

Before I travelled, I watched a video on &ldquo;<a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/DEwaavWP9dZ/?hl=en">How to Cross the Street in Vietnam Like a Pro</a>&rdquo; &mdash; the fact this exists was enough for me to take it seriously.&nbsp;
In the video, a local tour guide explains things like moving slowly and predictably, don&rsquo;t back-track or stop abruptly, don&rsquo;t run, etc. All fairly straightforward tips. But then there&rsquo;s the advice to raise your hand as you cross the road to make yourself more visible. In fact, she says that this is now law and raising your hand is essential when you step out in front of traffic.&nbsp;&nbsp;
There&rsquo;s also the buddy approach, where you smile awkwardly at a local and hope they&rsquo;ll shepherd you across, or the defensive line, where you hide yourself at the far side of a large group, essentially using them as human shields. I&rsquo;d be lying if I said I didn&rsquo;t employ that last tactic on more than one occasion.&nbsp;
With all this in mind, and having witnessed the sea of scooters weaving around our car from the airport, I felt apprehensive about taking those first steps out of our hotel on day one. Apprehensive, but about as prepared as I could be, I suppose. I&rsquo;d just step out, raise my hand and go.&nbsp;
The reality check came immediately, when we attempted to reach the coffee shop directly across the street from our hotel. We made our way to the crossing (no traffic lights, just lines painted on the ground), took a few deep breaths and waited for a gap in the traffic.&nbsp;
&ldquo;Okay, 3, 2, 1&hellip; go!&rdquo;

Rachel and I launched out onto the crossing, hands raised, attempting to keep our eyes open while vehicles came hurtling towards us. We were met with horns blaring, as a large car and 5 scooters rushed down our &ldquo;quiet&rdquo; side street. More than few expletives escaped from my mouth at that moment, but we persisted.&nbsp;
Once safely* on the other side of the road (I&rsquo;ll come back to this later), we debriefed. None of those drivers had any intention of stopping for us, despite the marked crossing. The horns &mdash; why?! We did what we were told. Then I remembered that video; while scooters will weave around you, cars can&rsquo;t, but that doesn&rsquo;t mean they&rsquo;ll stop. Basically, avoid cars at all costs.
We caught our breath and bravely pulled ourselves together before heading into the coffee shop where we&rsquo;d meet our future holiday romance: <a href="https://www.lordlucy.com/post/vietnamese-iced-coffee">Vietnamese iced coffee</a>.&nbsp;
There&rsquo;s really no right or wrong place to drink coffee in Vietnam, it&rsquo;s all great. But ultimately this was the beginning of our love affair with <a href="https://www.highlandscoffee.com.vn/en/origin.html">Highlands Coffee</a> &mdash; a local chain more prolific than Starbucks in the West. You could say that a chain is the wrong place to sample the local produce, but the condensed milk to coffee ratio there was the soothing hug we needed to tackle more simple pedestrian activities.
<img src="https://cdn.jacksflightclub.com/id/d6cfdcda22183e5805dc39635469a8f85af36ea5" width="250" height="404" style="display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">
As we continued along our route towards Ben Thanh Market (approximately 5 minutes&rsquo; walk from our hotel), we tested our nerves on a couple more small crossings. We waited for the cars to pass, looked both ways a thousand times, and only stepped out when the gap in the traffic seemed great enough for us to make our presence known. We survived.
Then we turned onto the big street. The huge street. We were on one side, the market was on the other. More expletives.
But here we had two things on our side: other pedestrians and traffic lights. This felt like it could be a game changer, so we gathered in among the crowd of other tourists who were vibrating anxiously at the side of the road. The moment the man turned green, we stepped out en masse.&nbsp;
It turns out that the human shield/defensive line approach was the right one for our first Big Road. Like much of the rest of the world, you&rsquo;ll find that in Vietnam, traffic can still turn the corner into the lane you&rsquo;re crossing. When that&rsquo;s 30+ scooters weaving around and among you, it is intimidating to say the least, so we learned to stay close to the pack.
Another thing that quickly became apparent was the lack of raised hands &mdash; in fact, the only other people raising their hands were clearly tourists. Not once during our two-week trip did I spot a local doing it. Part of me suspects that may be by design. After all, it&rsquo;s we tourists who are the unpredictable pedestrians, the ones locals really need to look out for.

After a few days in Ho Chi Minh City, we were less intimidated by the roads. We developed rules that worked for us, like never rushing to catch the end of a green man &mdash; always wait for the next one, wait until you&rsquo;re both fully prepared to step out, and if in doubt, throw your arm in the air and hope it helps. And wherever there was the option, always use a crossing with lights.
Now for that caveat about being &ldquo;safely on the other side of the road.&rdquo; With so many vehicles comes a huge demand for parking. And where better than on the pavement? We frequently found ourselves scrambling between parked mopeds, but it was not unusual to have to walk out along the edge of the road to get by. Somehow, this was less scary than crossing.
During our trip, we&rsquo;d meet other foreigners at crossings and in central reservations, all taking deep breaths and looking around frantically, like rabbits in headlights. Like us, most would steady themselves and step forth. But the one tactic I never saw twice came from a woman who raised her arms and released high-pitched noises similar to a siren as she darted across with purpose. She made it across just fine.
All this to say, if you thought you knew how to cross the road, you&rsquo;ll never truly learn until you visit Vietnam (or, perhaps, India). Even in smaller, partially-pedestrianised tourist hubs like Hội An, throngs of pedestrians are at the mercy of the next scooter-rider rushing home for dinner.&nbsp;
But it&rsquo;s not an impossible challenge to overcome, and the beeping of horns quickly becomes a soundtrack to your trip. And in those moments where you&rsquo;re beginning to wonder whether the treasures that lie across the other side of the road are even worth it, just remember there&rsquo;s probably a Highlands Coffee waiting to give you a soothing hug just a few yards further along.

Travel Tips

&ldquo;My parents, husband and I are planning to drive to Edinburgh from Yorkshire in May for a long weekend. Probably a Thursday to Sunday. Thinking where is best to stay and what to do? Is it advised to drive round Scotland or take public transport like tram.
An itinerary for 3/4 days would be great!&rdquo;

Answered by Katy 

Hi there, reader! I may be biased, but I think a trip to Scotland sounds like a great plan, and May is about the time when a little sunshine should make an appearance.
I previously wrote up a suggestion for a <a href="https://members.jacksflightclub.com/travel-hub/the-best-cross-country-scotland-road-trip-according-to-a-local">week-long road trip around Scotland</a>, so have a look at that for some all-around Scottish destination inspiration. But with only 3 or 4 days on the ground in Edinburgh, you&rsquo;ll find yourself with plenty to do without even leaving the capital.&nbsp;
I&rsquo;d suggest honing in on what you want to see there first &mdash; maybe the castle, the <a href="https://edinburgh.org/blog/the-secrets-underneath-edinburghs-streets/">underground streets</a>, the views from <a href="https://ewh.org.uk/calton-hill/">Calton Hill</a> or <a href="https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/holyrood-park-and-arthurs-seat-p914341">Arthur&rsquo;s Seat</a>? If you&rsquo;re fans of Dan Brown&rsquo;s Da Vinci Code, you&rsquo;ll probably need to schedule in a visit to <a href="https://www.rosslynchapel.com/">Rosslyn Chapel</a>, too.

It&rsquo;ll be tough to work out a way to squeeze it all into a couple of days, but obviously I&rsquo;d suggest visiting Glasgow as well (I&rsquo;ll even show you around!). The two cities are less than an hour apart by train, which makes the trip incredibly easy. Alternatively, you can head to Stirling to see its&nbsp;<a href="https://great-castles.com/stirling.html">historical castle</a> and the <a href="https://www.nationalwallacemonument.com/explore/our-story/">Wallace Monument</a> &mdash; and maybe pop in for a dram at the <a href="https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/curly-coo-bar-p1177261">Curly Coo whisky bar</a>.&nbsp;
With so much to see in Edinburgh alone, you&rsquo;ll probably want to stay pretty centrally. But hotels can get pricey, so you may want to look closer to Haymarket station than Waverley. That&rsquo;ll keep you within reasonable walking distance of the main sights, while also in a convenient spot for catching buses and trams.
On that note, I would suggest leaving your car at home if you can. With LNER trains connecting Edinburgh to London via York and Doncaster, you should hopefully be able to find a convenient route north.
Plus, for only a few days in the city, you really won&rsquo;t need to drive. Buses, trams, and trains will be able to take you anywhere you need to go, usually with a simple tap of your card or a conveniently placed ticket machine.&nbsp;

Hopefully this has answered a few of your questions, reader! I look forward to hearing how your trip goes, and don&rsquo;t hesitate to get in touch if you decide to visit Glasgow :-)
 Do you have a question or idea you'd like to see in the Detour? Let us know below!

All the important (or silly, or strange) travel news from across the web this week.
<ul>
<li>It&rsquo;s been another scary week for aviation, as a Delta Air Lines plane found itself landing upside down on the runway in Toronto. Thankfully, all those onboard have survived, and now Delta is offering up <a href="https://www.cbsnews.com/minnesota/news/delta-plane-crash-toronto-30k/">$30,000 compensation</a>. </li>
<li dir="ltr" role="presentation">Passengers flying from New York to Dublin last weekend were treated to an <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/news-and-advice/united-airlines-plane-diverted-canada-dublin-newfoundland-b2701340.html">impromptu weekend on the Canadian island of Newfoundland</a>. Luckily for anyone attending Mass on Sunday at the nearby cathedral, passenger Timothy Dolan, Archbishop of New York, found himself with plenty of time to kill. </li>
<li>If all this leaves you feeling more than a little anxious about flying, take a look at <a href="https://www.afar.com/magazine/expert-tips-and-advice-for-overcoming-a-fear-of-flying">these expert suggestions</a> on managing your fears. </li>
<li>And finally, first came the fake pandas, then came fake tigers, and now there&rsquo;s fake snow. Unseasonably warm temperatures at China&rsquo;s Chengdu Snow Village meant that this year&rsquo;s Lunar New Year celebrations were less blanketed in snow and more <a href="https://news.sky.com/story/snow-village-in-china-apologises-for-using-fake-snow-during-unusually-warm-weather-13311766">blanketed in cotton wool</a>. Despite all apologies and offering refunds, it could take them a while to live down that flake news.</li>
</ul>

Vietnam - where learning to cross the road isn't childs play

The best cross-country Scotland road trip, according to a local

I bought plaid. I saw a bear. I line danced with a cowboy.&nbsp;
After my 10-day road trip in the Rockies, I feel somewhat more deserving of my Canadian passport.
It was touch and go for a second, with an email landing in my inbox at 5am to tell me my direct flight to Calgary later that day had been cancelled.
But there&rsquo;s always a silver lining! WestJet offered to reimburse for an overnight stay in Dublin, plus expenses &mdash; a fancy-pants hotel. And naturally, that calls for one thing: room service steak!
Not only that, but since my flight was cancelled last minute, I was also entitled to compensation under EU law (&euro;600). Not too shabby seeing as I only paid &euro;400 for my ticket! But it came with a sacrifice; my knees. Instead of a breezy 8 hours in the air, my trip doubled in length to 16 hours, including a layover in Toronto.&nbsp;
Before boarding, I was hit with another curveball. Because my Irish passport lists my birthplace as Canada, I&rsquo;m required by law to use my Canadian passport, which, in all honesty, could be hiding anywhere &mdash; most likely buried between old receipts in one of my junk drawers.&nbsp;
&ldquo;You can&rsquo;t travel to Canada on an Irish passport unless you apply for an E-visa&rdquo; they casually informed me. And the process? It would usually take 72 hours. Lovely.&nbsp;
Typing like my life depended on it, I uploaded my docs and made a pact with every god under the sun. 7 minutes it took to process. Was it a glitch? Divine intervention? Or just the universe briefly pitying me? I&rsquo;ll never know &mdash; but I will be citing this next time anyone tells me &lsquo;the system is slow.&rsquo;
The flight itself was long and grueling, but thankfully I had two friendly seatmates to liven my spirits. By the time we touched down in Calgary, we were firm friends and I had even more recommendations of places to visit.&nbsp;&ldquo;You have to go to Grassi, look!&rdquo; My new pal whipped out her phone to show me her screensaver, a shimmering lake that looked like something from a watercolour.
Grassi Lakes seems to be a favourite among locals, tourists, and The Detour readers alike (thanks, Tanis)!&nbsp;
Just an hour and a half from Calgary, this short trail from Canmore (a picturesque alpine town with a reputation for luxury living) is an easy hour-long hike. It leads through forest and waterfalls with the most spectacular views of the Rockies, before opening up into two sparkling emerald lakes.&nbsp;

Don&rsquo;t expect to have the views all to yourself, though, it was pretty busy when we went &mdash; and that wasn&rsquo;t even during the peak summer tourist season. Still, strolling around the shores of the small lakes was quite peaceful, with most people soaking in the serenity of the emerald waters and nature&rsquo;s symphony of birds.&nbsp;

Next up on our &ldquo;must-do&rdquo; list was a suggestion from Katelyn, a JFC member from Calgary who spends a lot of her spare time in Golden, B.C.&nbsp;
&ldquo;In Golden, you have to stop at Ethos Caf&eacute;. The sourdough bread, pastries, and coffee is amazing. You can take it to go and stroll down by the river and check out Canada's longest covered timber frame bridge&rdquo;
Bread, coffee? You don&rsquo;t have to tell me twice, Katelyn! We opted to share the Torrija, a Spanish take on French Toast: a slab of sourdough coated in vanilla, cardamom, and zesty orange, and stacked with pecan granola, honey, custard, and fruit!

Afterward, with full bellies, we strolled around Golden&rsquo;s small downtown, eventually leading us towards the <a href="https://www.tourismgolden.com/places/kicking-horse-pedestrian-bridge">Kicking Horse pedestrian bridge</a>. The snow-capped peaks of the Rockies mirrored in the river was a postcard that no camera could ever truly capture.&nbsp;

Before saying goodbye to Golden, we figured it&rsquo;d be downright criminal not to check out the <a href="https://www.banffjaspercollection.com/attractions/golden-skybridge/experience/">Golden Skybridge</a>, one of Canada&rsquo;s highest suspension bridges. 
Let&rsquo;s just say, if your idea of a good time doesn&rsquo;t include swaying 426 feet above a canyon, you might wanna give this one a miss. For the rest of us, the vertigo was worth it for these views. 
And if you&rsquo;re wondering whether we took the <a href="https://skybridgegolden.com/Railrider-Mountain-Coaster.html">Railrider mountain roller coaster down</a>&hellip; You betcha!&nbsp;

Katelyn also suggested we check out some hidden hot springs that just so happened to be high on Flight Finder Kristi&rsquo;s list of &ldquo;must-dos&rdquo;.&nbsp;
&ldquo;South of Invermere, there are some natural hot springs that are a lot more authentic than going to the glorified hot tub pools of Banff and Radium - Lussier Creek! This has gained popularity in the last decade, so it might actually be heaving with people&rdquo;&nbsp;
To our surprise, there were only a handful of people when we arrived, and by the time we dipped our toes in the bubbly sulfur pools, it was just us, the river, and the boundless evergreens.
It was probably something to do with the twisty, gravel road that led there. In some parts, the road clung to the mountainside like an afterthought. Leaning out the window, heart in my throat, I glanced down at the valley below, a dizzying drop where the earth just&hellip; fell away. I won&rsquo;t lie, I wondered if it was worth it.&nbsp;
It was.&nbsp;

JFC member Loralee wrote in and told us we had to check out the hot springs at&nbsp;<a href="https://www.hotspringsofbc.ca/st-leon-hot-springs/">St. Leon</a> too:&nbsp;
&ldquo;I highly recommend going to St. Leon. It's south of Revelstoke and requires a ferry ride (free). Then, about 10 minutes on the highway, 10 minutes driving very slow up a logging road &amp; another 10 minutes hike up to the spring. Pack lots of water &amp; food because you'll probably want to stay all day. My hubby and I would set up camp in the forest &amp; stay for a week a few times.
I haven't been there in the past several years, so you may want to verify with locals that it's still accessible. This beautiful spot is maintained by the local community, and usually kept secret. It's the only remaining part of an old mining hotel that burned down a hundred years ago&rdquo;&nbsp;
Sadly, we weren&rsquo;t able to squeeze this one in, but I know I&rsquo;ll be back for Loralee's rec.&nbsp;
The road to Revelstoke was simply breathtaking, even on a cold, rainy day. The valley, swallowed by a low-hanging mist, looked like something out of Twilight.&nbsp;
Carving through the Selkirks, the highway twisted alongside cliffs that dropped off into absolutely nothing. Every so often a truck would barrel past blasting enough spray to make me in the passenger seat wince, muttering a silent prayer that Kristi had the wheel.

But then &mdash; magic. A break in the clouds, a glimpse of emerald forest clinging to the slopes, Kicking Horse River raged below and the mountains looming in the distance.&nbsp;

&ldquo;I could totally live here,&rdquo; I must&rsquo;ve muttered more times than I could count.&nbsp;
But when your travel budget is held together with duct-tape and last month&rsquo;s poor decisions, you don&rsquo;t get boujee mountain lodges to rest your heads in. You get questionable roadside motels. So naturally, we leaned in.&nbsp;
If life was going to stick us in a room that smelled like cigarettes and cat pee, we&rsquo;d turn it into our own murder mystery weekend.&nbsp;

By the time we hit Revelstoke, we had convinced ourselves we were the stars of our own low-budget thriller. Think roadside pit stops where the lobby isn&rsquo;t even a lobby and a partial demolition site.&nbsp;
Ironically, I probably had the best sleep of my life here &mdash; let&rsquo;s not analyze that one.&nbsp;

That night in Revy, we experienced the most spectacular vistas along the Columbia River. Stretched out before us, a shifting mirror of liquidity, broken by the occasional sigh of a breeze.&nbsp;
The mist came in slow, eerie tendrils, slinking between the pines. We didn&rsquo;t speak. There was no need. For a little while, we were just witnesses to somewhere beyond the veil.

And as the fog lifted from the river &mdash; ethereal, translucent, then gone &mdash; I felt the same slow clarity rise in my chest: Though Ireland had raised me, Canada had always been there, waiting in my bones.

Haunts & Hot Springs - a Rockies road trip report

&ldquo;Let the alluring aquamarine waters and white sands seduce you. Coral-fringed islands scattered across turquoise seas promise snorkeling among shoals of rainbow-colored fish, fresh conch fritters, and ice-cold rum cocktails under a tropical sun&hellip;&rdquo;&nbsp;
Yep, you&rsquo;ve seen the ads. The sterile, impossibly glossy brochures filled with a daydream of families and couples who probably only met each other that day, all frolicking on a faraway beach somewhere. It&rsquo;s all in the name with Celebrity cruises and Royal Caribbean.
And writer David Foster Wallace couldn&rsquo;t have summed it up better in his hilarious piece <a href="https://harpers.org/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/HarpersMagazine-1996-01-0007859.pdf">Shipping Out</a>: &ldquo;The promise is not that you can experience great pleasure, but that you will. They&rsquo;ll make certain of it. They&rsquo;ll micromanage every iota of every pleasure-option so that not even the dreadful corrosive action of your adult consciousness and agency and dread can f*ck up your fun&rdquo;
But here&rsquo;s the thing: I would rather not be cajoled into believing I&rsquo;m some kind of &ldquo;celebrity&rdquo; on my trip just because I&rsquo;m within 10 feet of Steve the towel guy at all times, or have unfettered access to the midnight chocolate buffet. I don&rsquo;t want my travel montage to be accompanied by the melody of &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t Stop Believing&rdquo; on the steel drums, and I most definitely, under no circumstances, want to be forced to pose with a parrot or a pirate. 
And if someone tries to rope me into a conga line, I swear I&rsquo;ll hurl myself over the railing with the kind of theatrical finality reserved for a Shakespearean tragedy.&nbsp;

And if that&rsquo;s your version of bliss. No judgment. It&rsquo;s just not mine.&nbsp;
What I want is immersion. I want to sit on a cracked sidewalk in a little hamlet nobody&rsquo;s heard of, surrounded by stray cats, listening to locals argue about where to send me for the best homemade lunch of my entire life. And when I can&rsquo;t speak your language? I want to be the best damn cross-cultural communicator through exaggerated gestures and interpretive dance.&nbsp;
So, this week after reading tabs upon tabs of dead Reddit threads on &ldquo;Bahamas off the beaten path&rdquo; my interest was naturally spiked when I read a throw-away comment about travelling between some of the islands. &ldquo;You could try the mail boat, lol&rdquo;&nbsp;
Enter my latest hyperfixation: sailing the Bahamas by mail boat.

Like the ships that deliver mail? Exactly.&nbsp;
I&rsquo;m talking about those salt-weathered workhorses that stitch islands like the Bahamas together. They&rsquo;re a lifeline, hauling everything from canned corned beef and car parts to love letters and utility bills over to the far-flung cays.&nbsp;
And if you&rsquo;re willing to embrace the chaos, they just might haul you, too, wedged between pallets of ripe bananas and a fisherman&rsquo;s catch of the day. The diesel engine vibrating at your feet.&nbsp;
Wave hello to that passing cruise ship, that could&rsquo;ve been you in another life. But in this life, you get to be a human observer and human cargo, how cool!
It&rsquo;s an itinerary that a cruise can&rsquo;t cultivate. Adventure travel at its most raw. Schedules? Suggestions at best. Your new deck buddy? Probably a goat.
In return, you&rsquo;ll get epic story montages set to the slapping of flip-flops on a wet deck and a radio playing the distant crackle of calypso.&nbsp;

Interested? Here&rsquo;s how:&nbsp;
Since mail boats cater to survival, passengers are an afterthought here. So securing a spot requires equal parts recklessness and persistence. Some boats may sell tickets dockside (cash only, of course) while others operate a word of mouth system. If you're imagining <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/bahamlandsea/posts/2944873842361118/">posting in a local Facebook group &agrave; la Greg</a> you're on the right track.&nbsp;
Study <a href="https://www.lonelyplanet.com/articles/slow-travel-mail-boat-bahamas">this Lonely Planet guide</a> like your life depends on it. If you're serious about setting sail, it&rsquo;s packed with tips from one man&rsquo;s trip report.&nbsp;
Here&rsquo;s a glimpse of where the mail boats could take you: The kind of Bahamas most travelers never see.&nbsp; 
<a href="https://www.travelingtessie.com/allposts/the-ultimate-guide-to-exuma">Great Exuma</a>
Population: 6,500
Highlights: The busiest and most popular of the islands, home to the famous swimming pigs at Big Major Cay (might want to give this one a skip, past investigations have raised <a href="https://www.worldofvegan.com/swimming-pigs/">concern about their welfare</a>) &mdash; your last stop before paradise, stock up on supplies
Boat: <a href="https://mvcaptainc.com/">MV Captain C</a>

<a href="https://www.myoutislands.com/bahamas-islands/cat-island">Cat Island</a>
Population: 1,500
Highlights: Slightly <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gs10UDKAR1g">pink sandy beaches</a>, and a hilltop hermitage, <a href="https://www.bahamas.com/plan-your-trip/things-to-do/the-hermitage-on-mt-alvernia">Mount Alvernia</a>.&nbsp;
Boat: MV Legacy 
<a href="https://www.cosmosmariners.com/blog/red-bays-andros-island-bahamas">Andros</a>
Population: 7,500 (west side has fewer than 500)
Highlights: The largest of the island, it&rsquo;s famed for its wild blue holes, bone fishing and vast wetlands. Most likely you&rsquo;ll have<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=riw3WoFQiIM"> the 3rd-largest barrier reef</a> in the world all to yourself.&nbsp;
Boat: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/bahadaybreak">MV Bahamas Daybreak</a> 
<a href="https://thetravelersbuddy.com/acklins-cooked-islands/">Crooked Island &amp; Acklins</a>
Population: 300-500
Highlights: Loyalist ruins, lighthouse and empty beaches. It&rsquo;s a haven for bone fishing, <a href="https://www.bahamas.com/plan-your-trip/things-to-do/caves-of-crooked-island">cliffs and caves</a>.&nbsp; 
Boat:&nbsp;Contact the <a href="https://www.lonelyplanet.com/articles/slow-travel-mail-boat-bahamas#:~:text=Planning%20an%20adventure%20you%20can%E2%80%99t%20plan">Port Department</a> 
<a href="https://www.tahinaexpedition.com/2015/05/the-ragged-islands-of-the-bahamas.html">Ragged Islands</a>
Population: 44
Highlights: This is the remotest island in the Bahamas. Duncan town, the island&rsquo;s only settlement, is a near deserted outpost with endless solitude. Besides deserted beaches, you&rsquo;ll find <a href="https://www.youtube.com/shorts/YADx7FES_DU">remnants of salt ponds</a> and maybe a lighthouse or two.
Boat:&nbsp;Contact the <a href="https://www.lonelyplanet.com/articles/slow-travel-mail-boat-bahamas#:~:text=Planning%20an%20adventure%20you%20can%E2%80%99t%20plan">Port Department</a>

The Unwritten Rules
Go slow: The mail boat isn&rsquo;t for ticking off destinations. Choose one place and let it sink in. Chat with locals, share a conch salad, and let the journey be part of the story.&nbsp;
Pack light, but as if you&rsquo;re a castaway: Space is tight, and you&rsquo;ll likely be hauling your bag over crates of cargo. A backpack beats a roller suitcase every time. Don&rsquo;t skimp out on snacks and water. And if you must, a powerbank.&nbsp;
Embrace the unknown: Schedules change. Boats break down. You might end up staying longer (or leaving sooner) than planned. Maybe you&rsquo;ll end up taking shelter from a storm on an entirely different island. That&rsquo;s the point. Just keep in mind, some mail boats only sail once per month.&nbsp;
Your reward? Island life that no brochure could capture. Gloriously untethered from the outside world.&nbsp;
Not a conga line in sight.&nbsp;

Adventurous Escapades

Kyrgyzstan: Snapshots from an Expedition

Kyrgyzstan: Snapshots from an Expedition

Kyrgyzstan: Snapshots from an Expedition

Where No Man Roams — Lessons From a Professional Trespasser

Rocky Road Realities: My Top 10 Missteps While Camping in the Canadian Rockies

Where in the world can you rock up and pitch up, legally? 10 of the best wild camping spots!

Dream Extreme – Our top ten craziest thrills from around the world

8 lesser-known destinations in Mexico that most travelers miss

How to get to some of the most remote places on earth for under £500

An underground town, and other weird, wacky and unusual architecture

Arizona's Essential Out-of-This-World Road Trip Pitstop

Vietnam - where learning to cross the road isn't childs play

The best cross-country Scotland road trip, according to a local

Haunts & Hot Springs - a Rockies road trip report

The Mailboat Chronicles – Sailing the Bahamas Like a Local