Peru stuck its fingers up at me as I left. Twice. On my last night, the girl at Interbank gave me fake money and I was in too much of a rush to realise. The taxi driver and I had been getting along famously until I tried to pay him with the Peruvian equivalent of a Monopoly note. Then, just as I was...

I’ve never been a walker. It’s my parents’ fault. They met over a soggy map at the Ramblers’ club, admired each others jazzy hiking socks and that was that. Later they chose to torture their children by taking them on walking holidays, dragging us up wintry peaks in...

1. 2 ½ hours journey time is nothing

Having been brought up in miniscule England, I always used to prepare for any journey longer than 30 minutes as if it were an Arctic voyage. I’d consult maps, pack skis and prepare a lunch. Manchester to London takes 2 ½ hours by train. In English terms, this...