New book reviews for Voodoo, Slaves and White Man's Graves: West Africa and the End of Days have recently been published in Hackwriters, Senior Travel Expert, Perceptive Travel and Bare Essentials.
As well as Issue Three of Wicked World Magazine (check out the Wicked World Blog) I also have an article called Selling Sorcery, about the notorious voodoo market in Togo, in the new issue of Get Lost Magazine, and a new feature on West Africa's 5 Must Visit Locations on the Wanderlust web site.
There is currently a free paperback giveway running for Voodoo, Slaves and White Man's Graves at Wicked World Magazine. If you like the book then any reviews on Amazon, Goodreads or other sites would be appreciated.
'Fuck bitches, get money, fuck bitches, get money, fuck bitches, get money' half drawled, half chanted Notorious B.I.G over a relentless hip hop beat.
Through the smoke filling the room, from a small fire lit to perform a traditional coffee drinking ceremony, I could just about make out his face amongst a montage of gangsta rappers on a slightly torn poster hanging above their proudest possessions: a television, a hi-fi and a fridge. All bought for the family by Sharif's sixteen... Read More
I've just got back from a trip to Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania. We were also hoping to viit the Congo (DRC) but we had to give up on that as they wanted to charge us US $350 each for a visa.
The region appeared to have progressed very little since my first trip to East Africa in 1992. If anything, the basic infrastructure appears to have deteoriated while living costs - not to mention the extortionate national park fees - have risen dramatically.
Another project that I've been involved in, is setting up Wicked World, a new alternative travel digital magazine.
Our intention is to provide a showcase for honest, alternative and irreverent writing, with a particular emphasis on internationally oriented underground culture. We are also planning to provide a syndication service for travel related articles, and to experiment with publishing the kind of eBooks that wouldn't normally find an outlet through more mainstream publishers... Read More
As we clattered through the Kyzylkum desert in the battered shared taxi, the driver reached across and offered me some pills. When I asked him what they were, he shrugged. Sometimes the drivers would take nicotine pills rather than smoking, but chewing tobacco had already been passed around. When it was time to spit out the dregs, they would push open their doors and gob out huge streams of brown spittle into the passing desert. If the timing were wrong and the wind in the wrong direction, then the back seat passengers would be splattered with the chewed out remains. I was wary of accepting an unknown quantity of...
The two young Aussie guys in their bright white shirts couldn't hide their disappointment. As the various day trippers had trudged back on to the Fraser Explorer four wheel drive bus, several had looked over to them quizzically. They looked a bit too smart to be on our bus. "We're custom officials" they said, cheerfully. They weren't really. They were trying to flog fifteen minute flights over Fraser Island for seventy five Australian dollars a head. Apparently this was great value, we'd see all the highlights from a bird's eye view - maybe even some dolphins and sting rays - and we wouldn't miss any of the...