Rush Hour in London: Travel or Contact Sport? Rush hour in London isn’t travel, it’s a contact sport. You tumble off the Tube into Oxford Street and instantly regret every life choice that led you there. Horns blare. Someone’s balancing a latte, a phone, and maybe their will to live. A cyclist yells at a … Read more
Kaunas First Impressions: Sarcasm, Shots, and Cobblestones I don’t come to Kaunas just for the cheap pints. There’s blood in these cobbles — Lithuanian somewhere in my family tree — and every so often I hop over to let my hair down and see if the place still recognises me. It usually does: a raised … Read more
My name’s Eddie, and I came to Amsterdam for the same reason every idiot Brit does: beer, neon, and the vague promise that two hundred quid would buy me more happiness than therapy ever could. The Red Light District is meant to be this wonderland, yeah? Rows of women in windows, all flawless, all staring … Read more
