The Larapinta Trail, one of Australia’s premier hiking routes, snakes more than 200kms through the scorched red centre of the continent. On the lands of the Arrernte people, it traverses desert valleys, ancient rocky ridges, and frigid waterholes, and passes through a series of dreaming trails, including kangaroo, snake, and emu.

The justice I am witnessing, street justice, mob justice, call it what you will, is commonplace throughout Africa. The sentences doled out to thieves across the continent are legendary, and it can be difficult to know which of the gruesome details are exaggerated.

Chinh slices open the last baby squid, the knife glides effortlessly through its soft white flesh. He arranges it on the plate with the others, prodding at the spongy blob. Satisfied with its positioning, he sprinkles a mix of salt and chili, and pauses to survey the presentation.

Oh no, here we go again, another copy and paste list of budget travel tips, right? Wrong. Sure, some of these tips are found on most other lists that clog the internet, but there are some unique recommendations to be found here. Read on, to find out how to travel on a stu-string!

Myanmar’s fledgling tourism industry, which grew annually into 2019, was amongst the hardest hit by the pandemic. In 2023, with all covid restrictions for international tourists scrapped, and elections scheduled for later in the year, could Myanmar soon be back on the travel map?

‘Quick, in here,’ the metal gate opens with a shove, creaking in resistance. The back entrance of the Winter Palace is not the typical entry point, though this has not been a typical evening. We hurry inside and when the latch clicks into place, know that finally, we are safe. He cannot reach us here.

‘You can call me Ze Chief!’ he exclaims loudly, throwing his head back in laughter, cackling like a madman. The Chief, a middle aged man with matted grey hair and a limp, is my host for the evening in Abomey.

The ice and snow crunches under our feet and our breathing labours. They are the only sounds to penetrate the heavy silence of the mountains. The air is still, and a thick shroud of darkness hangs over us. The impenetrable night seems never-ending, a silent, black abyss into which we trudge.

Baku, Azerbaijan’s dazzling capital, is a city changing rapidly. In its 30 odd years of independence, Baku has shaken off the drab monotones and utilitarian architecture of the Soviet era and exploded with fantastic imagination and mighty ambition.

It is 11:00 o’clock on a Friday night, and the four men I am sitting with are about to spend their third consecutive night sleeping in their tuk tuks. Nearby, protests at the Gotagogama camp are continuing, as Sri Lanka faces its biggest crisis in over a decade.