Trabzon to Tbilisi, by bus, in the wrong month
Four buses, one closed border crossing, and the mathematics of a mountain pass that shuts without announcing it. Costs at the bottom, as always.
Who is writing
I spent eleven years pricing container routes out of Lisbon, which is a very unromantic way to learn how the world is actually stitched together. In 2021 I took six months off to follow one of those routes at ground level and never went back to the desk. Since then it has been ferries, night buses and one memorable freight train, funded by the letter, a photography licence or two, and occasional work for tourism boards that agree in writing that I keep final say on the text. I travel slowly because it is cheaper, and because a place stops performing for you around day nine.
Roughly sixty per cent of what I earn comes from paid subscribers to the letter, about a quarter from licensing photographs to magazines and one very persistent hotel group, and the rest from commissioned pieces. I have turned down four sponsored trips this year, mostly because the brief included the phrase "hidden gem".
A place stops performing for you around day nine. That is when the writing starts.
Four buses, one closed border crossing, and the mathematics of a mountain pass that shuts without announcing it. Costs at the bottom, as always.
Deck class on a working ship is the cheapest bed in the Adriatic and the worst night of sleep in Europe. I have now done it eleven times.
On the invisible labour behind travel writing, why so few pieces name it, and what I now pay per day in six countries.
A note on going home, the tourist-flat problem, and why the place you live is the hardest place to see.
Six months that were meant to be six months. Trains as far as Sofia, then buses. The letter started here, with forty readers, all of them relatives.
A year mostly in one country. Learned enough Turkish to be rude by accident and to order breakfast correctly.
Georgia, Armenia, and four attempts at a land border that was open on the map and shut in life. First paid commissions.
Aktau to Almaty, largely horizontal. The photographs from this stretch pay the rent on the Lisbon flat.
Currently working north through the Balkans. Dispatch 85 will be from a town of nine hundred people with two competing bakeries.
Elsewhere