DAILY MAIL The walkie-talkie spluttered into life: “Darts in – top of the rump – a mother and subby, COME DOWN HERE NOW!” As we scrambled to obey our orders, I guessed that this meant that a mother and calf rhino had been spotted, and that we were giving chase. Continue reading
GUARDIAN This won’t make me popular north of the border, but here goes anyway: Hogmanay is for wimps. There, I’ve said it. If you want to play with the big boys during new year celebrations, you’ll have to travel a lot further afield than Scotland; and you can forget the end of December, too. Six thousand miles and February will get you the real deal. Continue reading
GUARDIAN The ceiling fans in Mombasa airport were barely able to paddle in the heat. What air they churned up only served to make the place welter some more, so I was pleased to escape it and travel a couple of hours north up the coast road to Kilifi and spend time in Baumontia House. Perched high on a ridge overlooking an enormous creek, it captured small breezes that came trickling out of nowhere. Continue reading
GUARDIAN Uganda has had a bad press for too long – reaction to my recent visit was predictably cliched, homing in on guerrillas and gorillas. I guess this is the only place on Earth where a country’s reputation is held to ransom by terrorists and primates – Joseph Kony (of The Lord’s Resistance Army) and Dian Fossey’s charges have a lot to answer for. It’s time to set the record straight, as there’s much, much more to the very heart of Africa. Continue reading
GUARDIAN I swung in a hammock and looked across to the neighbouring islands – but my view was partly obscured by a man who sprawled in his chair like a waxwork in the tropics. He drawled: “I’ve been given the nod, the job’s in the bag … High Commissioner. Not bad eh?” Continue reading
GUARDIAN It’s a bargain 29 bucks to escape from the city that never sleeps. The silver Amtrak heaves out of Penn station and hugs the banks of the Hudson river on a spectacular journey north towards Montreal. I wave goodbye to Manhattan, listening to the evocative clanking of a bell and the doleful siren song of the train bouncing across water the colour of Prada tan trousers. Continue reading
GUARDIAN I’ve had indolence ingrained in me, laziness taught as a masterclass and torpidity thrust on me as the norm. In other words, I’ve been thoroughly chilled-out at a very comfortable thirtysomething degrees celsius in the little visited Cabo Delgado province of Mozambique. Continue reading
GUARDIAN It was 2am. I’d been in Melbourne for 24 sleepless hours and was still wide-awake, feeling as though I were missing out on the essential glamour of a Lost In Translation moment because my low-rise hotel didn’t have views of the city. Instead of raiding the mini-bar, I went for a nightcap at a sleepy local pub called Rush – a misnomer if ever there was one. Rain came down in Hollywood torrents, the wind whipped up and I began to question the wisdom of leaving Blighty’s so-so summer for Melbourne’s grey winter. Continue reading
GUARDIAN I am not renowned for my sporting prowess. At a push, my lexicon of games might include rough and tumble bouts of Scrabble and an occasional innings at blackjack (normally out for a duck). Most who know me would happily confirm that I am sans any great British sporting genes. But having now been taught by the Zen master (or is he the patron saint?) of surfers, I might well be on my way to silencing my critics with some nippy footwork on the ocean wave. Continue reading
GUARDIAN I have seen another world; perhaps I’ve touched a place that belongs to the future. Women in white tunics whisper softly and streams of faint music attempt to soothe troubled souls. I’ve visited sanctuaries where guests act elderly regardless of their age. Everyone’s reality changes when surrendered at a health farm. You’re not allowed to think for yourself anymore. Continue reading
Nick Maes 