Travel is all about escape from the everyday. Replacing the humdrum realities of daily life with a glimmer of mystery. Leaving the known for the unknown. As I stood by the roadside taking this picture of the almost deserted highway outside my remote hotel, I felt a slight frisson of fear. Who was lying in wait just over the sand dunes, ready to creep down in the dead of night and slaughter all the guests in their rooms? There really was almost no one about, and we were five miles outside the nearest town…

But I’m using poetic licence here. In fact I was staying in one of the most peaceful, stable and welcoming countries in all of Africa. As neighbouring states have been torn apart by civil war, this has been an oasis of calm. For sure, there are protests and demonstrations from time to time, as there are all over the world. But it’s a country where I’ve consistently been treated kindly, generously and respectfully. And it’s one where the security forces go to great lengths to keep danger at bay.

I’m writing, of course, about MOROCCO. Just three hours’ flying time from London, but a unique and magical country that is a lot more diverse than this single photo suggests. In September 2017 I spent several weeks travelling from Tangier in the north to Guelmim in the south. The photo at the top of this page was taken near there. You can read about my impressions and experiences in the Moroccan Diary I posted when I got back.

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I’ve lived in Britain for most of my life, but from 1991 to 1995 I spent four fascinating years in the CZECH REPUBLIC. For the first year, the country was still called Czechoslovakia, and it was recovering slowly but surely from four decades of isolation behind the Iron Curtain. Outside Prague, it seemed like the land that time forgot. The streets were lined with unpainted grey houses, the shops were dark and dreary, and there was an overriding sense that it would be a long, hard slog to drag the country into the modern age.

But change came very quickly. The Czechs have a real sense of national pride, and they worked hard to embrace the new era of enterprise, democracy and open borders. During the four years I lived in the Czech Republic, my income quadrupled. I learned the Czech language and made lots of lifelong friends.

It all started on a day in September 1991, less than two years after the collapse of communism, when I arrived in Prague on a train from Germany. You can read about my first impressions in a blog post I wrote 25 years later…

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Still in Europe, another country that is dear to my heart is PORTUGAL. I first went there in 2012, when incessant British rain drove me south in search of sun. I fell in love with Lisbon straightaway – and just before it became madly popular with city breakers.

But I also travelled to other parts of the country – to colourful Porto in the north, and to tranquil Tavira in the south. It struck me that there’s something very special and quirkily endearing about Portugal. It’s not big. It’s not flashy. It’s just very authentic.

Here’s a link to a blog piece I wrote a couple of years ago about Lisbon. I hope it inspires you to visit Portugal’s charming capital, and also to delve further afield into the sunbaked countryside and onto the glorious beaches of that pleasant land.

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