I’m writing this as the breeze plays with the straps of my bag and the white sails of the Sydney Opera House glow amber and then blue as the clouds shift across the setting sun. Yes, it’s a dream sentence, inspired by a dream view, and it’s at moments like this that I’m pretty sure I have a dream job.

Forgotten are yesterday’s…

Surfers have a reputation for being cool, laid back and sexy. I’m talking, of course, about the professional ones with their seamless suntans and freshly squeezed physiques rather than, well, the rest of us. Those whose very act of lashing a surfboard to our ankles transforms it from an uber-cool sporting accessory into an oversized, [...]

I’ve arrived in Sydney, a little dazed, a little confused. Apparently that’s jetlag and it’s something to do with circadian rhythms, cortisol surges and melatonin…although right now I can’t quite remember my name and could easily believe that jetlag’s caused by blue-edged tomatoes and overripe watermelon and comes with an easy cure of standing upside [...]

The sand I’m standing on is soft and bleached, the type that squeaks beneath your soles if you walk too fast. The type that snuggles between your toes and presses footprints across the beach, then scatters footprints across the wooden floors inside.

It’s the type of sand that makes a private island.

Raindrops decorated most of my days in the Seychelles, the days passing beneath skies streaked with charcoal, while I huddled like an over-protective mother over my-definitely-not-waterproof camera gear. I made footprints in the sand and cycled along the wet earth, feeling…

Ouchijuku Village, Japan For some reason, these photos look calm. Yet in reality, a blizzard raged and the muted glow of the snow-plough’s headlights provided just enough light to let me capture this scene: fragile, snow-cloaked candles beneath an otherwise relentless black sky. Sleet assaulted our eyes, abraded our cheeks and hounded our cameras, while [...]

I stand in the queue, a man turns me back.

I stand in another queue. Alone, in silence. Paperwork in one hand, a heap of clothing in the other, limp yet heavy like the body of a sleeping child. It’s cold outside.

I wait.

I queue.

I hand over my camera…

It’s January. It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s boring. Well, unless you live in the southern hemisphere, I suppose, when it’s party on the beach time. In which case, you’re probably outside enjoying yourself instead of shivering under the duvet and reading this on a computer screen.

A-n-y-way, since…

The steam rising out of the drain cover caught my attention first. It was a cold, vengefully cold mid-winter morning in Hungary as I paced along the tarmac, limbs mechanical yet numb, face frozen, eyes rimmed with weather-induced tears.

Everyone was…

So, if you remember from last year, people regularly spam me with press releases that they think I should publish over here. They’re usually totally inappropriate and utterly dull, a description that many may think qualifies them perfectly for a slice of cyberspace here on my blog, but that I, delusional as I am in matters of quality and relevance, usually reject. I’d like to call it a discerning eye but I suspect that’s because a mosquito bit me on the eye(lid) last night and hence…

The older I get, the more I enjoy cooking classes. With an opening statement like that, I’m in danger of whirling around in a cartoon swirl and remerging as an immaculately groomed housewife from the 1950s: hair set, rosy-cheeked smile, skirt that sticks out like a snipped triangle and the scent of freshly baked cookies following me around like a caricature cloud…

This Photo Friday, I bring you Croatia’s Capital at its warm and wintry best. Check out more about the #ironroute over here and watch this space for the words…They’re on their way…

From the moment I opened the parcel, I could tell it was going to be special. I’d expected a standard “how to cook book” but instead I discovered a dreamy journey to India, bound between hardback pages adorned with purple and gold. Tasting India by Christine Manfield is clearly a labour of love. With India, [...]

Today’s post comes from a woman whom I very much admire. It first appeared on her own blog and it moved me so much that I had to get in touch and ask whether I could cover the story here. She gave her permission for me to reproduce the whole article – and since…

Time, this week, played tricks on me. An illusion: disappearing, twisting, sliding and slipping away… This photo, from the kamakura matsuri or igloo festival in Tohoku, Japan last year, just seemed to fit for this week’s Photo Friday. The region had just recovered from one of the harshest winters on record – and yet none [...]

Cold War. Iron Curtain.

Four words, two phrases, several meanings.

When I went to school, a third of the world lived under “communist” rule. Travel was restricted…

Dust rose from the ground as the horse thundered past and the sun began its ablutions. It painted pinks and pomegranates, amber, pistachio, charcoal and soft apricot rust across the walls of Petra before calling it a day and turning in for an early night…

I hope to bring Ljubljana to life for you here on Inside the Travel Lab, piece by piece, over the course of 2012 as part of my #IronRoute Project. Yet to spare you the overload experienced by my hard drive, oh long-suffering reader, I’ll start with this bite-sized list and fill in the gaps later.

There are hotels. And then there are hotels. Places so imaginative, so extraordinary and so unusual that they stand out as experiences in their own right. The Egerton Hotel in Knightsbridge, London, is one of those hotels…

Italian food. There was a time when I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about, but I can barely remember that now. The moment my train slowed to a stop in Trieste (and, if I’m honest, quite a while before that) my daydreams wandered…

As the sun sets on 2011, I wondered which articles on Inside the Travel Lab you enjoyed the most.

I had a quick rummage through Google’s statistics and this is what the mighty G showed me…

I’m going to tell you a secret. I’ve longed to visit Ljubljana. I’ve longed to let my tongue run over the improbable syllables of its name before I even knew how to say them…

Trieste, Italy Behind me, I know that sapphire lights stud their way across the stone. Right now, though, I’m watching darkness. Behind me, flames from an occasional car streak across the empty velvet sky, backlit by the brilliance of a long forgotten empire. Ahead I see nothing. Black, dark, empty, silent. Just the sound of [...]

I sat down to try to put into words how grateful I am for this year and this day and felt my fingers freeze a little on the keyboard. In many ways, I can’t really improve on what I said about how I felt this time last year…

So, to celebrate gingerbread, gluhwein and twinkling bright lights, I bring you this post: the Best Christmas Markets in the World. (Only, it’s not really the whole world. Just the countries between Turkey and Germany. But let’s face it, that wouldn’t make such a good title…

Have yourself a very Merry Swedish Christmas! Yes, I’m busy writing up the nitty-gritty of the Iron Curtain and all the details of…

I’m just back from my #IronRoute project – travelling from Istanbul to Berlin by train in order to zig-zag across the former Iron Curtain. I wanted to find out more about the countries that used to live on either side of the border…

Eighteen days ago I set out on a journey of more than a thousand miles. It took me through nine different countries, six different currencies, two continents and it strayed both in and out of

Another four am start. Another cold morning. Another walk through darkness and another outstanding experience. After years and years and y-e-a-rs of trying to get on board a hot air balloon, I finally managed to get airborne and float across the Pyrenees in September this year. Barely a month later, good luck struck again and [...]

Sparks hissed from the fire where we clustered beneath the stars. The group fell silent, waiting for Hussein to finish his story. He sat cross-legged, wearing the traditional thawb and keffiyeh, his deep eyes lined with kohl.

“My darling,” he said, fixing his eyes on the girl in front of him. “Forget the astronomer. Come with me. I’ll show you the stars in the day.”