Whenever we go to any country, we tend to take our preconceived notions of that place with us. I had this idea that Sri Lanka would be like Bangladesh and the people would resemble South Indians with the accompanying Tamil accent. I could not have been more wrong. In fact, this trip has left me wondering exactly how I got such ideas in the first place. The soft-spoken eloquence and refined attitude of the Sri

I spent a lot of time in my twenties travelling through Europe and North Africa. I did the typical weekend tourist one-two step: touched down in one city, did a whirlwind tour of the most Instagrammable spots, indulged in some good meals, and if I wasn't too jet-lagged, checked out the nightlife. In and out, another country on the books. At the rate I was going, I would have made it to my goal of 30 countries, but by then my approach to travelling had changed.

I can't quite remember who picked us up—probably someone from the villa—but they played 'No Scrubs' by TLC in the car and it reminded me of my childhood. Secret hip hop aspirations stormed through my senses, and at once, I felt at ease. Like I knew you Marrakech, and you knew me.

When I told my bosses I was taking off to travel to Cuba, their first response was “Tell us if you're stuck in Guantanamo”. All jokes aside, when people think of Cuba, they think of Frank Sinatra, they think of classic cars and flamenco dancers, and now, they probably think of the “Havana” song. And, of course, they think of socialism.

Many people think of Antarctica as this far away, impossible-to-reach place, accessible only virtually via repeat viewings of Happy Feet and Happy Feet 2, but that's not true. Trust me, if I can get myself there, you totally can too (but hopefully with less vomiting).

It was perhaps Jane Austen that first introduced me to the therapeutic benefits of bathing in thermal waters—a concept which my teenaged self found archaic and strange. As I grew older (and travelled wider), I realised bathing in hot springs is fairly common the world over. The instant I stepped into my first hot spring, I understood why. The almost unbearably warm waters cocooned my body and I felt my muscles unwind. I closed my eyes. It was sublime.

As a solo female Bangladeshi traveller, the reaction I most commonly elicit while I am travelling is along the lines of people saying: “Wow! I have never met a Bangladeshi traveller before”. This makes me sad, because I know many Bangladeshis are keen on travelling, but for many, the expense of foreign trips can be a deterrence. And, well, it doesn't help either that we have a pretty badly-ranked passport.

I often murmur this overused idiom as I pack my bags for a trip to any place. Be it in the country or abroad. The budget woes take hold of me from the conception to execution and to the absolute end of any trip. There have been times, of course, when my soirees out into the wild have been fully paid affairs and I can say without a trace of doubt that if you somehow negate the money worries, travel takes on a

The houses looked like they were made of Lego; the people, like ants. My head was dizzy and I was breathing fast. It was precisely then that I realised that my goal of reaching the 4,200-metre high (13,500 feet) Kyangin Ri peak in the Langtang valley of Nepal—one that I had shamelessly and prematurely boasted about to all my family members and friends prior to leaving Dhaka—was not going to be fulfilled.

Jasper is a small town hidden between the Canadian Rocky Mountains in Alberta, pretty close to British Columbia. We visited the town on April 25, 2018, and stayed for three days. It takes an estimated 4 hours and 30 minutes from Calgary, the capital of Alberta province, to Jasper -- a total of 450 kilometres on road.

Smells evoke emotionally charged memories. Like the smell of freshly picked green mangoes after the season's first Kalbaishakhi or the smell of clothes washed with Chaka Ball soap and laid out to dry on the wires running along the village front yard. However, Beautiful Bangladesh—our tagline for tourism—has its inimitable share of horrible smells that also manage to etch themselves into our memories.

In 2007, I was working in Nagasaki, Japan, during my college summer break. My team traveled around the prefecture, teaching English to adorable Japanese school children of various ages. In between, we got to enjoy breaks, and stay with host families so we could live like the locals.

One of the 20th century’s greatest archeological finds were the underground army of nearly 8,000 life-size terracotta figures, which were found near the burial site of the first emperor of China, Qin Shi Huang (221-210 BC).

Neat rows of red-brick buildings, bathed in brilliant sunlight, stretched out under an azure sky. The carefully manicured grounds, and the forest beyond, were a lush green. One could be forgiven for mistaking it for a well-run summer camp. It certainly did not look anything like what had been portrayed in Schindler's List or the myriad of Holocaust literature. Even the wrought-iron sign above the gates reading

A massive rhino rustled through the tall elephant grass and charged at us. Ears cocked, nostrils flared wide open and tail held high, the animal seemed to take up the entirety of the unique Chitwan landscape. Its distinctive one horn cut through the thick humid air of the Terai, its muscles rippled in tension under the thick armour like skin.

Ever heard of Pensacola or Perdido Key? Whether you know of it or not, reading this travelogue will certainly have you trying to experience everything I have at the southern tip of the United States of America, and maybe do some exploration of your own.

My work visa in Tanzania was about to expire, and I needed to do a quick trip out of the country in order to renew it. I couldn't be gone for too long, so it made sense to go somewhere nearby—to one of the neighbouring countries, like… Kenya. Plus, I had a friend in Nairobi whom I hadn't seen in years, which also meant free accommodation...

When I first stepped in Tokyo streets, getting out of the Aoyama Itchome subway station, it was late evening, and it was raining, as it would rain casually in any season in Dhaka. The modernist styled buildings reminded me of a Motijheel, the sound of light water drops on the pitch black roads reminded me of Dhaka's soundscape in any

I wanted to visit Corfu ever since I read Gerald Durrell's My Family and Other Animals, which was set in Corfu of the 1930s, and the spirited character Spiros livened up the writer's depiction of this seaside town. Incidentally, Corfu is known to have one of the most unique Easter celebrations in Greece, an experience I could not have missed!

Travel back to the bygone days of the Vijayanagara dynasty. The ruin of the ancient city of Hampi today stands amidst gargantuan boulders. Climb up the 575 steps to the Anjaneya temple to view the sunset and hike atop the Matanga hill for a sublime sunrise, or take a coracle ride across the Tungabhadra river during the wee hours, the only sound breaking the silence being the swish-swash of the oar dipping in the water.