This is the second in my three-part series on Bhutan, you can read about my trip to Paro (and the Tiger's Nest) here.

While Paro is undoubtedly the tourist centre of Bhutan, Thimphu is the capital. The city doesn't have its own airport, but the journey from Paro is about an hour by car. The journey itself is beautiful as it follows the course of the river in the valley, ascending into the mountains and returning back into a valley. At times, the scenery is almost otherworldly as mountains frame the landscape. Small dogs and cows occasionally stray into the road, but much like Paro, the road to Thimphu is well paved and clean. The only issue is if you get even a little bit of car sickness, the journey be uncomfortable as you wind your way through mountains and valleys. Not ridiculous, but you'll be able to feel it.

Thimphu is a high-altitude city situated in a narrow valley in the western Himalayas at roughly 2,300 metres above sea level, slightly lower than Paro but high enough that if you are not used to altitude you might feel some effects. I was completely fine in both cities but this is about the height altitude sickness can kick off in some people.

Thimphu is built along the course of the Wang Chhu river, the city stretches in a long north to south corridor rather than spreading widely across flat land. Mountains rise sharply on both sides of the valley, limiting how far the city can expand and giving it a distinctive linear shape. Much of the urban area follows the river and the main road that runs parallel to it, with neighbourhoods extending up the slopes where terrain allows. You can see this quite well if you climb into the hills and mountains surrounding the city, as I did on several occasions.

Thimphu is a small capital city by global standards. The city’s population is about around 140,000 people, although the exact number fluctuates as people move between rural areas and the capital for work, education, and government employment. This makes the city smaller about 10x smaller than Birmingham, and more like the size of some towns in the Black Country like Dudley.

Historically, the area’s strategic location in the western Himalayas made it an important point along regional trade routes that connected mountain communities and so settled agriculture began there not long after the first people started arriving. Monastic institutions were established in the valley many centuries ago, and fortified complexes were constructed to serve as centres of administration and defence.

For most of its history the valley was not a capital city in the modern sense. Political authority and administrative activity moved between different locations depending on the season and the needs of the ruling elite. The transformation of Thimphu into a permanent national capital occurred in the mid-twentieth century when central government functions were consolidated there.

In the 1950s and 1960s the city was still little more than a small settlement with scattered government buildings and a handful of roads. Over the following decades infrastructure projects gradually reshaped the valley. Roads were expanded, administrative offices were built, and public housing appeared to accommodate civil servants and workers relocating to the capital. As government ministries and agencies clustered in the city, Thimphu became the focal point for national administration.

As soon as I got into the city limits and the mountainous road gave way to an urban are, the first thing that struck me was just how clean and orderly everything seemed. Unlike neighbouring countries, traffic flow is steady, there is no crazy driving, and the streets are immaculately clean. There seems to be a strong social contract in this country where people take care of their city and surroundings which was nice to see. It's not a huge city by population or by area, but it's big enough that it is a commercial and political centre with shops, markets, businesses etc. Thimphu is also (I'm told) the only capital city in the world without traffic lights. At some busy junctions you have guards at their posts directing traffic.

If you want to do some shopping in Bhutan, Thimphu is a better option than Paro as it's both bigger and cheaper. You have some global brands (I saw Adidas and Puma stores) but most seem to be locally owned. I wouldn't call the central area busy, but there are people doing their shopping and walking around some of the central commercial areas during all times of the day.

There are a few larger markets too. My favourite is the Norzin Lam Street Market, which runs along Norzin Lam, the main road through the centre of Thimphu. The market is made up of a row of small wooden huts and stall structures lining the pavement. They sit directly along the street, so when walking down Norzin Lam you pass a continuous stretch of shopfronts selling handicrafts, souvenirs, and locally made goods. Shopkeepers are happy to haggle on the price, and while some of it is tourist focused souvenirs, there are some genuinely good bargains to be had, especially on weaved clothing with is a speciality in the region.

Nearby, is the Centenary Farmers Market, commonly referred to locally as the Weekend Market. It sits on the eastern bank of the Wang Chhu river, just across a bridge from the central part of the city. The market occupies a large two-storey riverside structure built specifically for trading agricultural produce and local goods. Although it operates every day in a limited way, it becomes significantly busier from Friday through Sunday, when farmers and traders travel in from surrounding valleys to sell their goods directly to residents of the capital. So you have every type of fruit and vegetable you would want, as well as other types of food and even a small section of non-food goods.

You also have the more traditional, functional shops throughout the city, and while there are bargains, some of the larger stores can be more expensive. There are plenty of restaurants throughout the city, but the quality of food can be inconsistent and this is a region where if you eat the wrong food you can get pretty sick for days. I was generally lucky during my trips to Bhutan and was careful where I ate, mostly sticking to the larger hotels and established restaurants, but I did eat in a couple of smaller local huts and felt fine.

The nightlife is good, although obviously given the size of the city it's not exactly filled with options. Karaoke and live music seem to be popular and generally you can move from place to place without a cover charge. I went out a few times at night and the streets were relatively quiet (mostly curious youngsters) and it felt completely safe. I also walked around the streets during the day and again, very easy to get around, extremely walkable, and on sunny days you can walk quite far and find things to see and do. 

Bhutan is split into different regions, and each region as its own Dzong. The main dzong in Thimphu is Tashichho Dzong and it is one of the most important administrative and religious buildings in the city. Much like the one I wrote about in Paro, the dzong functions simultaneously as a fortress, a monastery, and the centre of government administration, reflecting a longstanding institutional structure in which religious and civil authority operate side by side within the same complex.

A monastery existed in this part of the valley as early as the thirteenth century, founded by followers of a Tibetan Buddhist teacher named Phajo Drugom Zhigpo. Over time the location developed into an important religious centre within the valley. As political authority consolidated in the region during the seventeenth century, the monastery was expanded and fortified into a dzong under the leadership of Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, the figure credited with unifying the territory that would eventually become the modern state.

The dzong built during the seventeenth century served both defensive and administrative functions. Dzongs across the Himalayan region were designed to act as strongholds that could protect religious institutions and local authorities during periods of conflict. Thick stone walls, inward-facing courtyards, and strategic hilltop or riverside locations made them difficult to attack..

Over the centuries the building was damaged by fires and natural wear. and so a lot of reconstruction was carried out during the twentieth century. In the 1960s the building underwent major restoration under the direction of the third king, Jigme Dorji Wangchuck. The reconstruction preserved the traditional architectural style while modernising the internal layout so the dzong could function as the headquarters of the national government.

Architecturally, the complex is similar to what I saw in Paro. A high outer wall surrounds several large courtyards that organise the internal layout. Entry leads into the primary courtyard used for ceremonies and official gatherings. Surrounding this space are administrative offices, assembly halls, and monastic quarters arranged across multiple levels. Wooden galleries and stairways connect the different sections of the complex, while elaborately painted beams and carved window frames decorate the upper structures.

The central tower, known as the utse, forms the spiritual core of the complex and houses important religious chambers and in this complex it really stands out thanks to its steep stairs. Within these spaces are shrines, prayer halls, and sacred objects used by the monastic community that resides in the dzong.

Because the dzong contains both government offices and monastic quarters, access to the interior is partially restricted. You can easily visit certain courtyards and exterior sections but many rooms remain reserved for official functions or religious use. The building’s dual purpose means it operates both as a place of governance and as an active monastic centre rather than purely a historical monument.

The large courtyards inside the complex play an important role in public events. The Thimphu Tsechu festival, the biggest in the country, takes place in the courtyards of Tashichho Dzong. The festival is held each year in the large courtyard inside the dzong, usually over three days in the autumn according to the lunar calendar. The central courtyard of the dzong is the main stage for the ceremonies and temporary seating is added to accomodate the influx of people both foreign and local.

There is one thing that dominates Thimphu from across the city and that is a giant statue of the Buddha on a mountainside, overlooking the city. No matter where I went in Thimphu, I would always look up to see the Buddha and more of then than not I would see it. Think Christ the Redeemer in Rio. The statue is on a hill in Kuenselphodrang Nature Park above the southern side of the valley. It's probably the most recognisable landmark in the city, and at night when it is lit up, it feels oddly comforting. Honestly, loved it!

But the cool thing is that you can visit it up close, and believe me, it's even more beautiful when you're standing directly in front of it. The road to the site climbs steadily from the central part of Thimphu up into the hills above the valley. The journey takes around 10 minutes by car - I actually tried to walk it the first time but after over an hour in the baking sun I realised it wasn't the best idea.

As the road ascends, the city gradually becomes visible below, revealing the narrow valley in which Thimphu is built. Any time you climb up a hill or mountain surrounding Thimphu, the views of the city are spectacular.

My first impression was purely the scale of the statue. Buddha Dordenma stands approximately 51 metres tall, making it one of the largest seated Buddha statues in the world. The figure depicts Shakyamuni Buddha seated in meditation, facing outward toward the valley and the city below. The statue has a gold-coloured exterior that reflects sunlight strongly during clear weather, making it visible from considerable distances across the valley.

It sits on a broad stone terrace that functions as both an observation area and an open public space. From this terrace there are wide views across the Thimphu valley. Because the city occupies a narrow corridor between steep mountains, the view clearly shows how development follows the river and the main road through the centre of the valley. 

The statue itself is not solid. Inside the structure there is a large interior hall used as a temple space. Within this hall are more than 100,000 smaller Buddha statues, each made of bronze and gilded which look incredible. These statues are arranged along the walls and on raised platforms around the interior chamber. I visited twice and both times it was relatively quiet, with the few people that were there conducting prayers.

The area around the statue includes paved walkways and viewing points with some viewpoints looking like sheer drops until you get very close and notice stairs or the hill below. You can see the statue from multiple angles while also seeing the backdrop of the mountain. Hands down, this is one of the most incredible landmarks that I have ever visited.

You've also got a handful of museums in the capital. While none of them are quite as good as the National Museum of Bhutan in Paro (which you can read about here), there is an interesting interactive museum called ​Simply Bhutan Museum. The museum is more like a living heritage centre rather than a conventional museum with static displays (a bit like the excellent Black Country Museum, which you can read about here). 

The museum is on the outskirts of central Thimphu, and the architecture is designed to resemble a traditional Bhutanese village. Instead of a single exhibition hall, the museum is basically several reconstructed buildings arranged around open courtyards and pathways. These buildings replicate the appearance of rural homes and farm structures that historically exist in different parts of the country.

It's a short but pretty full on experience. You get a guide, a traditional welcome drink (which can alcoholic or non-alcoholic), and then you get taken around this reconstruction of a farmhouse in the middle of the city. You see how people cook, clean, and generally live. There are a few souvenir shops inside, and a large hall where you get a cup of butter tea, a small snack, and watch a traditional dance. At the end of the whole thing you get a chance to do some archery, but with some pretty flimsy bows.

The people that work there were excellent, they knew their stuff, and put a lot of energy into their performances and demonstrations, but the whole thing just felt a bit, plasticky. If you're with younger kids I can definitely see why they may enjoy it.

​A relatively new public space in Thimphu is Changyul Park, a landscaped park developed along the Wang Chhu river on the southern side of the city. The park occupies land that was previously used largely as an informal parking and storage area but was redesigned and transformed into a park in the city.

Changyul Park covers roughly seven acres and is built along the river which provides a relatively open environment compared with the more built-up parts of the city centre. The park has several different zones designed for different uses. There a central square for gatherings and community events, and landscaped paths and gardens where people can walk through planted areas or sit on benches overlooking the river. These pathways connect the different sections of the park and many people go for a run along these paths.

Many of the structures in the park use natural materials such as wood and stone. Pathways, benches, and small pavilions were designed to blend into the surrounding environment rather than create a heavily built urban space. Because the park sits directly beside the river, the design also incorporates pathways that follow the riverbank, allowing visitors to walk along the water and view the landscape of the valley.

I visited during the night and the day. There is a small charge for entry, the equivalent of around 20 pence, and the park is beautiful and peaceful. You can see Buddha Dordenma from across the park, and hear the soothing sounds of the Wang Chhu river. There is a small wooden restaurant / bar build over the river where you can sit and relax, and honestly, the whole vibe was just perfect.

The park opened to the public in 2024 and the construction was led by young volunteers. Volunteer programmes play a huge role in civic life in Bhutan, particularly among younger people. The DeSuung programme, for example, is a national service programme that encourages citizens to take part in community projects and emergency response efforts. People receive basic training and then help with activities such as disaster relief, public health campaigns, environmental clean-ups, and infrastructure projects like the park. You can see people dressed up in orange all around the city as uniforms for the programme.

I really like this aspect of the country. It creates a strong social contract, something that is beginning to fall apart in other countries. People genuinely seem to come together and create lifelong experiences and friendship. I spoke with a few locals who had been through the programme, and they told me it bought together people from different regions and tribes.

​Pretty much every country has a national animal, but I can't imagine many or stranger or less well known than the Takin, the national animal of Bhutan.

The takin just looks weird, like the head of a goat, and the body of a cow. The animal has a large body, a broad head, and curved horns that grow outward and upward from the skull. Its thick coat is various shades of brown, and takins can weigh several hundred kilograms and are well adapted to steep terrain and cold climates.

Takins are native to the eastern Himalayas and surrounding mountain ranges. In the wild they typically inhabit alpine forests and high mountain meadows at elevations between roughly 1,000 and 4,500 metres above sea level. They are herbivores and feed on grasses, leaves, bamboo shoots, and other vegetation found in mountainous environments.

You're not going to really see any in the wild unless you're very lucky and hiking those mountains, but Thimphu has the Motithang Takin Preserve which was established to protect the takin. The reserve is located on the hills surrounding the city and its a short 10 minute car journey to the entrance. The reserve covers a section of forested hillside that provides the takins with space to move and graze. Wooden fencing surrounds the area, and you can follow a walking path along the edge of the enclosure. From these paths you can see the animals, fairly close, but in a semi-natural state which I think is kind of cool.

The reserve also has other animals like deer, but its the taking that dominate the area. They're even stranger up close and they have a funky smell that is hard to describe. The whole reserve is very nicely set up, and again, during my visit it was very quiet. It's definitely worth a visit.

Bhutan is famous for its temples and monasteries, and I've already written about its most famous one, the Tiger's Nest in my previous article. But Thimphu isn't short of temples either. My favourite was the Wangditse Lhakhang which is on a mountain very close to the centre of Thimphu. The temple sits on a forested hillside overlooking the city and the valley below. 

The temple was originally built in 1715 by the eighth Desi (secular ruler) of Bhutan, Druk Rabgye, around the same time when many religious institutions were being established across the region. 

The temple is easily reachable from the city, in fact, one of the most common approaches begins near the Buddha Dordenma site above the city. From there a forest trail runs along the hillside toward the temple, taking roughly thirty to forty minutes to walk. The trail passes through pine forest and open clearings, gradually reaching the temple on the ridge.

Because of its position on the hillside, Wangditse Lhakhang offers one of the clearer viewpoints over Thimphu. During the walk to the temple, there are small openings in the forest where you can see incredible views of the city below. The walk is relatively straight forward, nothing too taxing. Although it is relatively close to the city centre, the temple receives fewer visitors than some of the more prominent sites in Thimphu. Its hillside location and the short walk required to reach it mean that it often feels quieter than other landmarks. It was for this reason that Wangditse Lhakhang was probably my favourite place to visit in Thimphu.

From the temple grounds you can see the city stretching along the valley floor with the Wang Chhu river running through the centre. The surrounding mountains form a backdrop behind the city, and the view changes depending on weather and time of day. Honestly, the view is jaw dropping and worth the walk along.

Architecturally, Wangditse Lhakhang follows the style typical of other Bhutanese temples. The building has thick whitewashed walls, timber beams, and intricately painted wooden windows. The roof is layered and decorated with traditional patterns and colours. Inside the temple are prayer halls and shrines containing statues and religious paintings associated with Buddhist teachings and protective deities.

Over the centuries the temple underwent several periods of repair and reconstruction. One of the biggest restoration projects took place after an earthquake in 2011 caused serious damage to the structure. The temple was rebuilt using traditional construction methods and the work was completed several years later.

I had an excellent experience. I watched young Buddhist circumnavigating the temple while meditating on prayer beads. A monk provided me with a blessing, and I sat inside the temple and experienced incredible peace. Outside, I sat on a bench overlooking the city, the sun gently warming the area while a nice cool breeze blew past me. It was as close to perfection as I felt on the entire trip.

There are also a couple of important monasteries close to Thimphu and a short drive away and I visited the base of them both. Tango Monastery sits on a mountainside overlooking a forested valley about 9 miles outside the main city. The monastery is built into the slope of the mountain, a bit like Paro Taktsang, with its white walls and tiered roof structures rising above the surrounding trees. The monestery dates back to the thirteenth century, when a meditation site was established in the area by a Tibetan Buddhist master named Phajo Drugom Zhigpo. Over time the meditation site developed into a larger religious complex as additional buildings were built and monks began to live there. The present structure of Tango Monastery was largely built in the seventeenth century. 

Cheri Monastery is located a short distance from Tango but lies deeper within the mountains along the same valley and was founded in 1620 by Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, a key historical figure who played a central role in establishing the political and religious foundations of Bhutan in the seventeenth century. The monastery was built as a retreat centre for meditation and religious practice. Cheri Monastery is also known as the place where the first monastic body in Bhutan was formally established in the seventeenth century. 

You can visit the monasteries using a walking trail that climbs through forest from the valley floor below. It takes about half an hour through forested paths and isn't anywhere near as tiring as the hike to the Tiger's Nest.

The views from the hillside surrounding Thimphu are great, whether its on the outskirts of the Buddha Dordenma, the Takin Reserve, or Wangditse Lhakhang. But if you want real spectacular views over the Himalayas, then you have to travel a little further outside the city to Chelela Pass.

If you get travel sickness, this isn't for you. The only way to get there is through a steep winding road that takes about an hour in the car. On the way the city gets more distant, houses and people become sparse, and the forested roads become home to grazing animals like yaks. 

Chelela Pass is one of the highest mountain passes in Bhutan. The pass lies at an elevation of approximately 3,988 metres above sea level and connects two different valleys. At the summit the pass opens into a relatively wide clearing on the mountain ridge. The area includes a roadside space with a small hut where cars can stop and it's the perfect place to step out and take in the spectacular views. 

Because of its elevation, Chelela Pass has views across the surrounding Himalayan mountains. On clear days it is possible to see distant peaks rising above the lower ridges that surround the valleys below and I was lucky to visit during a relatively clear day. One of the mountains visible from the pass is Mount Jomolhari, a prominent snow-covered peak located on the border between Bhutan and Tibet. The mountain is over 7,300 metres tall and is one of the highest peaks visible from the region.

The pass has views into two different valleys. Looking eastward from the ridge, the terrain slopes down toward the Paro Valley, while the western side descends into the Haa Valley. The contrasting landscapes of these valleys was incredible, one more mountainous and whiter, the other more hilly, forested, and greener.

Some people do long hikes in the surrounding valleys and mountains, I settled for a short walk to the peak of the pass. About half way up the summit is a stupa / chorten which sits very lonely overlooking the valleys below. It's surreal, like something you'd see on a 90s TV show like Stargate - just this strange but beautiful structure on top of a mountain with nothing else in sight. The air is definitely thinner, and climbing toward the peak was quite challenging, the shortness of breath took me back to my hike in Peru (which you can read about here). 

Yes. No visit to Bhutan is complete without visiting the capital and, to me, it's one of the more beautiful capitals in the world. Now much of your experience will depend on your age. If you're in your twenties, you're not going to be find huge places to go out, but there is enough to keep you occupied for a short stop. In my thirties, I thought this city was absolutely perfect. The people, the food, the culture, the landscapes, I'll almost certainly do a third trip.

This is the first in a trilogy of articles looking at my trips to Bhutan. Each article will cover a different region in the country, and we start with Paro, the gateway to the country, and the home region for the world-famous Paro Taktsang, or Tiger's Nest.

When I first told people that I was travelling to Bhutan, a lot of the responses were along the lines of "where?" I'm not surprised, it's not a country we hear much about, particularly in the west.

Bhutan is a landlocked Himalayan kingdom in South Asia, bordered by India to the south, east and west, and China (specifically the Tibet Autonomous Region) to the north. There were, at one point, four Himalayan kingdoms, but China took over Tibet, India took over Sikkim, and so today only Nepal and Bhutan remain independent Himalayan states.

Sandwiched between two giants, Bhutan looks small on a map, but in reality, it's not much smaller than Switzerland. And much like Switzerland, its terrain is dominated by steep mountains, deep valleys and fast-flowing rivers. Elevations range from around 100 metres above sea level in the southern foothills to over 7,500 metres in the high Himalayas. 

Historically, Bhutan developed as a collection of valleys governed by regional leaders and Buddhist monastic authorities. Tibetan Buddhist influence became firmly established from the 8th century onward, with monasteries and dzongs (fortress-monasteries) forming both religious and administrative centres. In the 17th century, Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal unified the country under a dual system of governance combining spiritual and temporal authority. This system evolved over time, and in 1907 the Wangchuck dynasty was established, creating a hereditary monarchy. Bhutan maintained relative isolation during the colonial period in South Asia, entering into treaty relations with British India and later with independent India, while preserving internal autonomy.

Bhutan spent a lot of its time closed off to the world. People in Bhutan only got televisions in 1999, and the country only started opening up to foreign tourists in the 1970s and even then with strict quotas in place. Even today, the country focuses on "high value, low volume". This means it charges tourists a Sustainable Development Fee which has changed over time but it is around £100 per night per tourist. The fee funds free healthcare, education, infrastructure, environmental conservation and cultural preservation initiatives within the country. This means that while last year France got around 90 million tourists, and nearby Thailand got around 33 million tourists, Bhutan received just 0.2 million.

It's a country that not many people get a chance to visit!

Modern political reforms accelerated in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. The Fourth King, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, initiated decentralisation and introduced the concept of Gross National Happiness as a development philosophy emphasising sustainable growth, cultural preservation, environmental conservation and good governance. Today, the GNH is one of the things Bhutan is most famous for with a society built around different facets of happiness. It's a country committed to sustainability, with laws around protected areas and forest cover, and it tries to act as a custodian for important ecosystems on this planet.

Bhutan’s population is roughly around 800,000 people, although emigration is high without about 20% of all Bhutanese living outside the country, mainly in Australia. Dzongkha is the national language, and Vajrayana Buddhism (predominantly Drukpa Kagyu and Nyingma schools) is the state religion, though the constitution guarantees freedom of religion. The majority of the population lives in rural areas, though urbanisation is gradually increasing, particularly in Thimphu and other cities (which I will cover in the following articles). Traditional dress, known as gho for men and kira for women, remains widely worn in official settings, and you see them being worn pretty much everywhere in a work capacity.

Paro Airport is known as the most challenging airport in the world to land. Only about 50 pilots in the world are licensed to land there, and all fly for one of the two Bhutanese airlines. What makes it so challenging is that pilots have to fly through a valley, surrounded by mountains, while making an almost blind final approach to the runway which means pilots need to be familiar with the terrain and area. Most flights land early in the morning to avoid foggy or windy weather later in the day.

It's definitely not a landing for the faint hearted, but I thought the approach from Lima to Cusco was scarier (you can read about that here). There are definitely moments in the approach here where it looks like a wing could clip a mountain or a tree, and the twists and turns through the valley are pretty intense. But I found the descent into Paro more beautiful than frightening and definitely one of the best approaches to an airport that I have ever seen. I've now landed in Paro twice, and one both occasions, during landing, the PA system in the plane played soothing music which I thought was pretty cool.

Connections to Bhutan aren't great, but if you're lucky enough to fly in from Dubai or Nepal you get an excellent view of Mount Everest. During my flight, the pilot announced when we got to Everest and pretty much everyone on the plane went to the left-hand side to get an incredible view of the mountain. It's one of the most surreal experiences that I've ever had on a plane.

The airport itself is small but beautifully decorated. Immigration was straightforward with a visa, and passing through the airport takes a matter of minutes if you're carrying hand luggage only. The luggage claim section is very cool with a small model of famous monasteries in the middle. I also had no issues flying out as a Sikh, the security line is small and short, and it was easy enough to get through.

Paro is a super small town (they all are in Bhutan), and it's located about 2,200 metres above sea level, not enough to get altitude sickness, but enough to make strenuous exercise a little bit tougher. The town lies within a broad, fertile valley carved by the Paro Chhu river and you can see farmland on either side of the river.

The layout of downtown Paro is compact and linear, organised around a small number of primary roads that run parallel to the river. Buildings are generally low-rise, most of the buildings that I saw were two to three storeys, and built in traditional Bhutanese architectural style. There are building codes in place to ensure that all new (and old) buildings should be built in a similar style with whitewashed walls, painted window frames, and sloping roofs which gives the town a beautiful, uniform feel. 

Many of the shops in Paro cater to visitors but there are also a lot of retail shops, cafes, restaurants, and a handful of bars. There are local markets selling fruit and vegetables and the whole place felt magical. It still has that sense of community that pretty much every other major tourist city in the world has lost to globalisation.

​While everything works on digital payments using QR codes, only some shops accept international credit and debit cards and so, while for locals everything in digital, for outsiders it is important to get a little bit of cash, and you can easily do so using the various cashpoints / ATMs dotted around the city. There are plenty of food places but its important to be careful. I had a very short 24 hour sickness after eating out, and while I had now issues across the rest of the cumulative month I spent in the country, it was a reminder to just be careful.

People are very friendly, and English is widely spoken and understood, especially by the younger generation. Most people don't bother you, but are very happy to help if you have questions.

The city centre is small and walkable, in fact, from the air you can see just how small of a footprint the main part of the city occupies, but there are things to do further out from the core of main downtown and so you can easily spend a few days there.

One of the most famous monuments in Paro, located a short distance (by car) outside the main downtown and on one of the mountainsides is the National Museum of Bhutan, also known as Ta Dzong. The building was originally constructed in 1649 as a watchtower to defend Rinpung Dzong (a monastic fortress) below. Its strategic position on a ridge provided surveillance over the Paro valley and surrounding approaches. The structure’s thick stone walls and small windows reflect its defensive purpose. In 1968 the building was converted into the country’s first national museum. The adaptation preserved the external form while modifying the interior to accommodate exhibition galleries.

Ta Dzong’s architectural form is distinctive even within Bhutan, there aren't many buildings like this around. Unlike the rectangular layout typical of dzongs, it is circular and multi-level, rising several storeys with inward-sloping walls. The interior contains a central tower core with surrounding gallery spaces arranged vertically. The views of Paro from outside the museum are extraordinary and it's definitely one of the most memorable national museums that I have ever visited - not so much for the exhibits, but more for the architecture and location.

That being said, the museum’s collections cover a broad range of Bhutanese cultural, religious and historical artefacts. Exhibits include paintings, bronze statues, ritual objects, textiles, weapons and natural history displays. There are some religious disp[ays on the state religion, Vajrayana Buddhism which is very interesting and include some incredible quotes of Buddha. Some galleries focus on the evolution of Bhutanese monarchy, including photographs, regalia and personal items associated with successive kings of the Wangchuck dynasty. There are also coins, banknotes and Bhutan’s famous postage stamps. There is a room full of natural history exhibits with stuffed animals. It's like the British Museum, Natural History Museum and the V&A all rolled into one.

It's a very nice, small museum, you can do the whole thing in less than 90 minutes with time to spare to check out the view from the outside. Entry is about ​£5 and it's well worth the cost of admission.

Bhutan is a series of mountain peaks and valleys so if you get car sick it can be a bit of a tough trek to get around from place to place. Inevitably, if you want to cross a region, you'll have to go up a mountain before you come down into the valley on the other side. Paro has a couple of these passes but by far the most spectacular is Chele La Pass.

​Chele La Pass is situated at an elevation of around 4,000 metres above sea level and it connects Paro District with the neighbouring Haa District in western Bhutan. The pass forms part of the Black Mountain range.

The road to Chele La ascends gradually from Paro valley through dense blue pine and rhododendron forests. As altitude increases, vegetation transitions from temperate woodland to alpine shrub and open meadows. Near the top it was cold, icey, and snowy during my trip. The road itself is paved but narrow in sections, with steep drop-offs and limited guardrails which means that avalanches and rockfalls can happen from time to time. As the winding road headed toward the summit I saw horses, cows, and eventually, yaks! One of the more famous and beautiful animals in the country.

Reaching Chele La there are clusters of prayer flags mounted on poles and strung between trees. These flags, bearing printed Buddhist mantras and symbols, are placed by individuals and groups seeking blessings or marking significant occasions. You see these on mountains across the country and I think they look spectacular. 

On clear days, Chele La has views of several high Himalayan summits, including Jomolhari, which rises to over 7,300 metres near the border with China. Visibility is highly dependent on weather, and I must have got lucky because views towards Haa Valley as well as the Himalayas was incredible. There is a small tea stand and bathroom facilities, and there is one very impressive chorten (the Bhutanese version of Buddhist stupas) but otherwise it is you and an incredible view.

I did a small walk up past the chorten toward a second summit and here I could massively feel the altitude, every step had me out of breath in ways that I wouldn't have felt a couple thousand metres lower in Paro. But the air felt crisp and the experience was indescribable. 

Without a doubt, the crown jewel of Bhutan is Paro Taktsang, commonly known as Tiger’s Nest Monastery. It is one of Bhutan’s most recognised religious sites and it's a monastery built on a cliff face approximately 900 metres above the floor of the Paro valley, at an elevation of around 3,120 metres above sea level. The monastery complex is built into rock ledges and caves on the upper slopes of the Himalayas overlooking Paro. Its position makes it visible from various points in the valley, where it appears attached directly to the vertical cliff.

Honestly, it is one of the most incredible things I've ever seen and experienced in my life.

The site’s origins are associated with Guru Padmasambhava, also known as Guru Rinpoche, who is credited with introducing Vajrayana Buddhism to Bhutan in the 8th century. According to tradition, he meditated in a cave at this location after arriving on the back of a tigress, giving rise to the name Tiger’s Nest. While the current structures date primarily to the late 17th century, earlier meditation caves at the site are believed to have existed for centuries. A fire in 1998 caused significant damage, and extensive restoration was undertaken to preserve the complex using traditional construction methods.

The drive to the base area from Paro is relatively short, about 20 minutes. You can take a ride on small horses if you wish, but they will only take you up about halfway. Most people walk, and there is a well-defined path that ascends through pine forest and rocky terrain. The round-trip distance is roughly 6 to 7 kilometres, depending on the route taken within the complex with an elevation gain of around 600 metres.

The climb is physically demanding due to the gradient and altitude. It was definitely harder than I thought it would be but I managed it in a couple of hours and so did many people of all ages. So, while it's physically demanding, it isn't a technically challenging climb. The path consists of compacted earth, stone steps and switchbacks. I think once you get over the initial shock of the incline and prepare yourself for a more demanding climb (which is what happened to me), things get a little easier.

There is a cafe about two thirds of the way up which is a nice place to rest and there are some great views of the valley and the monastery from there. After the cafe, the trail descends slightly before rising again along a series of stone steps carved into the cliff. The final approach includes crossing a narrow bridge adjacent to a waterfall that drops into a ravine below. This section involves steep staircases both descending and ascending before reaching the entrance. This can be a little tricky but the views from the top of the stairs are the famous ones you see in my photos and on the internet. Seeing the monastery from the ridge opposite is extraordinary and I just cannot begin to imagine how it was built and how it is still maintained to this day. Much like Machu Picchu, it's one of the few places that looks better in real life than it does in the photos.

At the top, the monastery complex comprises several temples, meditation caves and residential quarters for monks. The structures are interconnected by narrow stairways and passageways built into the rock face. You have to store bags and cameras before entering the inner temples in some lockers and you get searched to make sure you aren't taking phones up with you, photos are strictly prohibited.

Inside there are many temples and spaces that contain statues of Guru Rinpoche in various manifestations, as well as images of other Buddhist deities. Wall paintings depict episodes from Buddhist teachings and Bhutanese religious history. It's like being transported into another world.

The original meditation cave, regarded as the holiest part of the site, is incorporated within the complex. This cave is accessed through a temple chamber and is used for ongoing religious practice. To get to the main shrine, you descend through new darkness inside a small tight cave using a series of makeshift ladders. It's genuinely a little scary and if you're claustrophobic, I can't imagine you enjoying the experience, but I thought it was incredible. 

Nearby is a very small gap, barely enough for a person to get through, but if you do, you end up basically overlooking a sheer cliff face. I did it, and it was an intense experience, not one that I would recommend to most people and definitely unsafe. 

Back inside the main complex I spent time going through each individual temple, seeing some fantastic views of Paro valley and mostly just thanking the essence of existence for giving this poor kid an opportunity to experience some of the most magical, wonderful experiences in the world. This is very much near the top.

Yes, but with caveats. It isn't cheap because of the tourist fee (although if you're from Panjab and other areas in the subcontinent this fee is waived), and you need guides pretty much everywhere you go. If you want to travel between regions, you need to let authorities know beforehand and while the country has opened up, things still remain tightly controlled.

But, if you make it here, you will find the most beautiful country in the world. Whether it's the people, the food, the culture, or the landscapes, rarely do some many positive elements come together as they do in Bhutan.

In subsequent articles to be published over the next couple of months, I'll share a little more about other parts of the country including some of the most unforgettable temples and monasteries that I have ever seen in my life.

The Sri Guru Singh Sabha Gurdwara in Singapore dates back to the very early decades of the 20th century but it has obviously been rebuilt, refurbished, and extended several times since its founding. It's surprising because we think of old Sikh Gurdwareh outside of Panjab and neighbouring India and Pakistan to be in Canada and the UK, but Singapore has a large collection of Gurdwareh that are over 100 years old.

This Gurdwara has two entrances: one is through a car park passageway where you then walk up a large staircase to climb to the main building - while the other is at a higher street level. In any instance, as soon as you enter the main building, you are in a very large darbar sahib, perhaps the largest (certainly the longest) of any of the Gurdwaras on this list.

The darbar hall is very modern, completely white, with digital screens laid out throughout the hall that provide English translations to Gurbani as it is being sung or spoken. During my visit there was beautiful kirtan being sung, and I sat and listened for a long time. The langar hall was well proportioned and on the perimeter were paintings showing Sikh history - from Gurus to Shaheeds (martyrs). 

The things that impressed me the most about this Gurdwara was the unique layout on a hill which meant that either entrance of the Gurdwara was on completely different floors, and the clean, crisp design of the darbar sahib with modern touches like the translation screens which were nicely positioned throughout the hall.

A five-minute walk from Sri Guru Singh Sabha is the Khalsa Dharmak Sabha. The Gurdwara is located in a largely residential area, but the size means it stands out of its surrounding. This was the busiest of the Gurdwaras during my visit to Singapore.

The langar hall is located on the first floor and was incredibly busy, while the main darbar hall is located a floor above. The stairs are quite steep, so by the time you reach the darbar hall, it is a decent climb - I saw a few aunties taking a rest on the stairs (there is also a lift you can use). 

The darbar hall is a more traditional layout, and during my visit it was relatively busy with a Gurbani Santhiya class going on which was nice to see. The traditional layout made it also feel more familiar,  a little more like the types of Gurdwareh that we have in the UK.

What I liked about this Gurdwara is that it feels a key part of the local community, embedded within a residential district, but it seems to have had the space to grow into a large and well used Gurdwara.

The Gurdwara, dating back to the 1950s, is located in a residential area and it dominates the street in which it stands, much like Khalsa Dharmak Diwan, but it does so in a more elegant way in terms of architecture. The surrounding area seems largely to be well-off Sikhs as the houses were a decent size (especially for Singapore) and I saw a lot of Panjabi families walking in and out of the houses.

The exterior facade blends traditional Sikh architecture, with modern styles, like a glass frontage. The architectural design is relatively unique when compared to Gurdwareh that I have visited around the world, and that's what makes it so unforgettable.

Inside, there is a beautiful darbar hall, while downstairs there is a very large langar hall and kitchen that straddles inside and outside the main building. I noticed several kids playing football downstairs and it took me back to my childhood when we would do the same in my local Gurdwara in England. I loved the energy, the Gurdwara was quite full, lots of youngsters, and it was a brilliant experience. In that respect it was a little like the Gurdwara I visited in Hong Kong (that you can read about here).

There is no doubt that the Central Sikh Gurdwara is the largest Gurdwara on this list, and a key visual representation of the Sikh influence in Singapore.

​The Gurdwara is also known as the Baddha Gurdwara (big Gurdwara) and it is not only large, but also extremely influential. Outside, the Gurdwara lives up to its name, standing out on the cross junction that it stands on with a huge footprint that seems to cover most of the block. On the street there are signs with descriptions about the history of Sikhs in Singapore as well as the building of the Gurdwara, which has been in one form or another since 1912.

Hanging from the walls of the Gurdwara on the exterior facade was a very large banner with a quote from Guru Gobind Singh from Bachittar Natak, and it is something everyone passing by can see. Inside, the Gurdwara is about as unique as they come. The description also shared how at one point they had to ban western tourists as the Gurdwara was being filled with drugged up hippies. The Gurdwara, as with a few others, also had guidelines on what men and women should (and shouldn't) do and wear when visiting, which makes me think this has been a problem over the years.

​There is a decent sized langar hall downstairs, but as you go upstairs, the first thing you see is a large water pool and you need to walk past it in order the get into the darbar hall. The pool is large, relaxing, and I've never seen anything like this in any other Gurdwara before.

Inside, the darbar hall is very large, again, wider than it is long, and rather than walking directly through the centre of the hall, in order to get darshan (blessings) from Guru Granth Sahib, you first walk around the edge of the hall near the wall, a unique way of entering the darbar sahib. It also means the genders can mix together as they used to in Panjab before the British influenced protestant beliefs led to a separation of men and women into different sides. Again, the takht is absolutely stunning, it's more covered than the one at Pardesi Khalsa Darmik Diwan, and is a beautiful white with a lattice pattern.

If you want a microcosm of the Sikh community in Singapore, the Silat Road Gurdwara is the place to visit. The original Gurdwara was built by the Sikh police contingent in Singapore in 1924 and today's Gurdwara stands on the side of an incredibly busy dual carriageway on the perimeter of the city centre.

A small bridge crosses the main road a short distance from the Gurdwara, and from here you can really see the Gurdwara, built in traditional Sikh architecture with a large bunga (tower), stand next to more modern or western style buildings which show an incredible contrast. The main entrance is large and well signposted, and directly inside is a well-proportioned langar hall. The langar hall was busy, but the darbar hall was completely quiet during my visit. Again, the takht, in white, looked beautiful, and there were also screens to translate Gurbani.

Downstairs, and to the side of the main Gurdwara side, is one of the most important Sikh sites in Singapore and for me the place that belongs unequivocally at the top of this list. The Bhai Maharaj Singh Memorial is a small memorial dedicated to a Sikh freedom fighter who led one of the first ever independence movements against British rule in the subcontinent. After the First Anglo Sikh War, Bhai Maharaj Singh, born Nihal Singh, was a key player in Sikh revolutionary activities and his story (which you can read here) is absolutely incredible.

Today, the Bhai Maharaj Singh Memorial stands beside the Silat Road Gurdwara, having been moved several times throughout Singapore's history. There is a small darbar hall which is perhaps the most perfect darbar hall I have ever visited. The darbar hall is circular in shape and worshippers sit all around the Guru Granth Sahib. I've visited this shrine several times during my trips to Singapore, and each time I've found it beautiful, peaceful, and an important part of Sikh history in the country. I barely visit the interior of the Silat Road Gurdwara and instead spend all my time here.

This year marks the 10th yearly review that I am writing, and it completes a full decade of this blog. It's wild to think how far I've travelled in these 10 years, especially given that I grew up below the poverty line in a single parent household, but I'm enjoying the ride. I'm also aware that the world is becoming (or seems to be) a less safe place for many groups of people including, including Sikhs. This year saw a lot of global crises, and for us, there were the floods that devastated Panjab (you can read about it here).

My end of year review for 2024 is here
My end of year review for 2023 is here
My end of year review for 2022 is here
My end of year review for 2021 is here
My end of year review for 2020 is here
My end of year review for 2019 is here
My end of year review for 2018 is here
My end of year review for 2017 is here
My end of year review for 2016 is here

This year I travelled across five different geographical regions from Singapore and Vietnam in east Asia to New Orleans in the United States, and many different cities in the middle.

I visited both Panjab and India in late 2024 but didn't have a chance to write my articles before the 9th yearly review, so they both get included here. I enjoyed my time in both places.

In Panjab I spent most of my time in Amritsar, although I went as far east as Anandpur Sahib which was beautiful as always. Anandpur Sahib is the home of the Khalsa and hosts one of the most important Gurdwaras in Sikhi, Sri Kesgarh Sahib. Amritsar is home to Sri Harmandir Sahib, popularly known in the west as the "Golden Temple", and without a doubt one of the most beautiful places in the world. Opposite Harmandir Sahib is the Akaal Takht, the political home of Sikhi. During this trip I was lucky enough to do a full recitation of Sukhmani Sahib within the Akaal Takht which was a huge personal highlight.

I spent quite a bit of time in the city was surprised to see just how much redevelopment has happened since my last trip. The city centre was clean, and there were some beautiful museums and remembrances, from the emotionally moving Partition Museum, to the serenity of the Saragarhi Memorial. Some redevelopment has been done at the expense of preserving Panjabi and Sikh heritage and that's always worrying.

I also had a chance to visit Taran Taaran, which is every bit as beautiful as Harmandir Sahib but without the crowds. If I'm honest, it's probably my favourite place in the whole of Panjab. There is a peaceful and authentic beauty here that I think is completely unmatched anywhere else. I loved the peace of the Panjabi countryside, the beauty of its architecture, and the spirituality of its Gurdwareh.

I enjoyed India for completely different reasons, although it's important to add that I only visited one part of India, Mumbai. India is a huge continent made up of many different people, and one day I'd like to explore it a little more. The city is loud, dirty, and overcrowded but it's also a vibe. It has the type of chaos you'd expect from a city that attracts migrants from across India and even further afield looking to make a life for themselves and it was an impressive sight to see. That's not to say Mumbai isn't beautiful, it has some gorgeous architecture, mostly dating back to the British rule, with places like the university, train station, and the famous Taj Hotel all stunning to see in person. 

You can read about my trip to Amritsar here
You can read about my trip to Mumbai here

I spent a fair bit of the year travelling through central and western Europe.

I started the year in the south of France across the principality of Monaco and the city of Nice as I watched my football team, Aston Villa, have their first season in the Champions League in my lifetime. There is a lot of beauty in both cities, and a lot of extravagance too. They aren't the cheapest but it doesn't cost anything to walk either and you can see a lot from walking in these cities. As a football fan and a Formula 1 fan, it was ideal for me, but even beyond those narrow interests there are beautiful old towns (in both cities), you have the coast, and you have a 20th century glamour that is definitely dated, but that weirdly adds to atmosphere. 

In eastern France I visited both Colmar and Strasbourg. Colmar is a small tourist town bordering Germany and Switzerland. The old town and canal system are beautiful and it was worth a day trip from Basel in order to see it (I didn't do anything new in Basel this trip so I didn't write a new article on it). Strasbourg really surprised me. I had expected a functional city, after all, it serves as one of the political capitals of the European Union. However, what I got was a city that is covered in history. The old town is a decent size, and during Christmas transforms into something quite magical, with markets, lights, and a very nice vibe. There is plenty to see, and Strasbourg Cathedral is one of the most impressive cathedrals that I have ever visited. I also spent some time in Paris and in Brittany, but I have written about them extensively before and so didn't do so this time around.

I returned to Serbia after five years, with a short stop in Belgrade before spending a few days in the north of the country in Subotica and Lake Palic. The city, designed during the heyday of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, is filled with interesting architecture and a fascinating history. Given that its eastern Europe, there are definitely a few more people staring, but no one said anything to me and I ended up having a lot of fun.

I finished the year in Germany, visiting the university city of Freiburg im Breisgau. It has a very small (but interesting) old town, and a beautiful hill that provides very nice views of the whole city, but it wasn't the most memorable of places. 

You can read about my trip to Monaco here
You can read about my trip to Nice here
You can read about my trip to Colmar here
You can read about my trip to Strasbourg here
You can read about my trip to Subotica here
You can read about my trip to Freiburg im Breisgau here

I spent a little more time in the Americas this year visiting a few new places. Off the coast of the main continent, I visited Dominica, one of the smallest and poorest islands in the Caribbean, but also one of the most beautiful, raw, and untouched places. The majority of the island is still jungle, and a significant proportion of the island is a protected area for one of the few remaining indigenous groups in the area. I really enjoyed my time seeing the unique landscapes, but if you want to go for beaches or for city vibes, this won't be the place for you.

In the United States I had a chance to visit a city that has been on my list for a long time, New Orleans, and it lived up to the hype, sort of. It's the least American city that I've seen in the United States with a strong French and African mix. The architecture is fascinating and there a bunch of very cool museums and restaurants you can visit. However, the city if most famous for its nightlife, and while it does the nightlife thing very well, if that's not your scene, you might want to try someplace else. I was back in New York City, a place I once lived in and have written a lot about so I chose to sit back and enjoy the city on this occasion rather than writing again and covering old ground.

And something completely different is Shenandoah National Park, the first national park that I visited in the United States. It's one thing that the U.S. does better than almost any other country in the world and I can see why. The wide open space, the wild untouched forests, options to hike, and the incomparable Skyline Drive all make it a breathtaking place.

You can read about my trip to Dominica here
You can read about my trip to New Orleans here
You can read about my trip to Shenandoah National Park here

I've visited most of the Gulf countries over the years and while I'm not a huge fan, I really really liked Bahrain. It's one of the smallest countries in the region, but it massively punches above its weight in terms of history and culture. It's not as rich as some of its neighbours and so the local Arabs work closely with immigrants, largely from the subcontinent, something you don't always see in the region. It also means there are several Gurdwareh, including in the capital city. Some of the standouts for me were the Pearling Path, the fort, and the fort's museum. 

I connect quite regularly through Dubai, and while it isn't my favourite city in the world, it's safe, clean, and it's easy to spend a few hours in the city, especially on longer layovers. The main reason I stopped over was to see a new Gurdwara, the Al Aweer Gurdwara which is located closer to the airport than the more famous Guru Nanak Darbar Gurdwara on the opposite side of the city and is significantly more low-key located in a factory-stye building, but I was very happy to see it. 

You can read about my trip to Bahrain here
​You can read about my trip to Dubai here

I've probably visited East Asia more than any other region, and it remains one of my favourite areas in the world.

I visited Vietnam for the fourth time, and while I spent most of my trip in Hanoi once again, I also managed to finally see Ha Long Bay. It's been on my list for over a decade, and it was great to take the relatively short 3-hour bus ride to the coast and then spend some days travelling through the bay, visiting small landmarks and islands along the way. While I found the otherworldly landscapes captivating, I worry about sustainability and the future of the region which is obviously suffering from overtourism (and I get the irony that I have added to it). It raised broader questions for me that I'd like to one day tackle about how travelling can be made more sustainable for future generations and local communities (building on something I wrote a few years ago that you can read here).

I was also back in Singapore for the fourth time, and while it was a quieter trip, I still managed to visit some places I haven't done before, like the national stadium to watch Rugby Sevens, the Asian Civilisations Museum, while also revisiting some of the famous landmarks I've seen a few times before.

I visited Bhutan but it was late in the year, and as I will be returning to Bhutan in 2026, I'll include the write up in the next edition.

You can read about my trip to Ha Long Bay here
​You can read about my trip to Singapore here

I'll be back in Bhutan in the new year, but I'd like to spend a little more time in the African continent. I'd also like to write a few more articles on Gurdwaras around the World because there are many more that I have seen that I'd like to share in one easy to find place. 

The biggest thing for me this year will be to reflect on 10 years writing this blog. It's been a journey that I didn't imagine would still be going on, but while I still have passion and energy (and health), I'll keep writing. This year I'll write some articles looking back at the first 10 years, but you might also find some changes on this website and my social media.

After leaving Strasbourg (which you can read about here), I took the train south-east into Germany. First, a short train took me over the border into Kehl on the Germany side of the River Rhine. Here, police board the train and do random checks on travellers (nothing on me this time, which was different to my last cross-border train ride to Trier that you can read about here). After that it was a train to Offenburg, a short switch, and then onward into Freiburg. The whole journey was just under two hours but that included the standard train delays that Germany has become famous for. Decades of underinvestment have made the German train network one of the most unreliable in Europe.

​Freiburg im Breisgau (there are several other Freiburgs in Germany) is a city in south-western Germany, located in the federal state of Baden-Württemberg close to the borders with France and Switzerland. It lies at the western edge of the Black Forest and at the eastern end of the Upper Rhine Plain, a position that has shaped its history, economy, and character for centuries. With a population of roughly 230,000 people, Freiburg is a medium-sized German city about the size of Wolverhampton and parts of it looks like Wolverhampton too.

The city was founded in 1120 by the Dukes of Zahringen, a powerful noble family that established several planned towns in the region. Freiburg was granted market rights early on, which helped it develop as a commercial centre. The discovery of silver in the nearby Black Forest contributed significantly to its medieval prosperity, and the city’s name is commonly linked to the concept of a “free town”, reflecting privileges granted to its citizens. During the Middle Ages, Freiburg changed hands several times, coming under Habsburg control in the late 14th century and remaining part of Austria for long periods. This Habsburg connection left a lasting imprint on the city’s architecture and institutions.

Freiburg is a significant university city, with the University of Freiburg founded in 1457 and ranking among Germany’s oldest universities and the city's universities continue to play a huge role in the city. Several research institutes, including branches of major German scientific organisations, are located in or near the city. The city is also well known for its focus on sustainability and environmental technologies. Since the late 20th century, the city has positioned itself as a centre for solar energy and green innovation. It's an area where the Green Party has always found a significant power base.

Arriving into the city, the train station is probably best described as functional. Each platform connects to a bridge which functions as a main road into the city. To me it was a bit of an optical illusion, I expected to be high above to city, only to see the bridge at city level and the train station appear below street level.

The first thing I noticed about the city is that it's a little worn down. In continental Europe, unlike the UK, areas around train stations are never that nice, and while it wasn't unsafe or dangerous, it did look a little tired. But as I crossed into the historic core I saw the Bachle, one of the defining features of the city.

The Bachle are small, open water channels that run along the edges of streets and squares in the old town. They are shallow, narrow, and usually lined with stone, carrying a constant flow of water that has become closely associated with the city’s visual identity. It's hard to describe, put them in a tropic region, and these may be mosquito infested areas, but in the cool German climate, they add some character to a city that at first glance looked like Wolverhampton to me.

The earliest documented references to the Bachle date to the 13th century, though it's likely that similar water channels existed earlier. Freiburg developed in a region where water management was essential, both for daily life and for protection against fire. The Bachle were fed by diverted streams from the Dreisam river and nearby watercourses, channelled carefully through the city using gravity rather than mechanical pumping. 

One of the main functions of the Bachle was fire prevention and firefighting. In a medieval town dominated by wooden buildings, workshops, and open hearths, fire represented a constant and existential risk. The presence of water channels along most streets meant that water was immediately available wherever a fire might break out. Buckets could be filled quickly, and in some cases water could be redirected or dammed locally to increase supply. Bachle also provided water for horses, cattle and other domestic animals and they were. also used for washing and street cleaning. 

They typically run parallel to the pavement rather than down the centre of the street, minimising interference with people. The channels are shallow enough to avoid serious injury but deep enough to maintain a steady flow. I wondered how many people might have accidentally stepped into the water each day and how many twisted and sprained ankles happen in the city on a regular basis and how much higher it might be than surrounding areas. Stone slabs and small bridges allow crossings at doorways and intersections, integrating the channels into the street layout rather than treating them as obstacles.

As Freiburg modernised in the 19th and early 20th centuries, many European cities removed or covered similar water systems in favour of underground pipes. Freiburg debated this option but ultimately chose to preserve much of the Bachle network because of cost, practicality, and emerging ideas about heritage and urban character.

Following the destruction caused by bombing during the Second World War, Freiburg restored the historic street pattern which also meant restoring the Bachle in many areas. Today, the Bachle are maintained primarily for heritage, urban design, and environmental reasons. They contribute to microclimatic cooling during warmer months as the flowing water can reduce surface heat and add humidity in dense urban areas, although the impact is fairly small. To me, the Bachle add a little character and personality to the city. I like them, but I'd be constantly worried stepping into them by accident if I was in this city for much longer.

As I walked further into the old town, the one thing that stood out was Freiburg Minster which has ​shaped both the physical layout and civic life of the city for more than eight centuries. 

Construction of the Minster began around 1200 on the site of an earlier parish church. The project spanned several centuries, resulting in a structure that combines Romanesque foundations with later Gothic elements. One of the most distinctive features of the cathedral is its western tower, completed in the 14th century. At approximately 116 metres high, the tower is notable for its openwork spire, an architectural innovation of the period which I have seen across several churches and cathedrals in France and Germany. 

Outside, the Minster is built with red sandstone sourced from the surrounding region, with biblical figures, saints, and stories carved into the stone. Inside, the Minster has stained glass windows from the 13th to the 16th centuries and beautiful organs and pipes. When I visited there was a service going on and the organs were playing beautiful sounds. The Minster was packed but I was able to spend a bit of time walking around.

While much of Freiburg was damaged or destroyed during bombing in the Second World War, the Minster suffered relatively limited structural harm. This was partly due to chance, partly to its robust construction, and partly to emergency measures taken to protect it. Its survival reinforced its symbolic status in the post-war period as a marker of continuity amid widespread destruction.

Around the Minster is Munsterplatz, a large open square that functions as one of Freiburg’s main public spaces. Unlike many medieval church squares that were later enclosed or reduced in size, Munsterplatz has retained its openness, which makes it feel super large. The square is framed by historic buildings, including former merchants’ houses and administrative structures, many of which were reconstructed after the war in forms that reflect their pre-war appearance.

Historically, Munsterplatz served as a marketplace, and regular markets are held there on weekdays, selling food, flowers, and regional produce, there was even a market on during my visit. In some respects, like the historic buildings surrounding the square, it reminded me of Romerberg is Frankfurt (which you can read about here).

The old town has pockets of incredible beauty, especially as the evening settles and the area begins to light up. Trams criss cross the streets of the old town and you can often hear them screeching long before you seen them.

As I continued my walk through the old town I came across ​the Schwabentor which is one of the most prominent surviving medieval city gates in Freiburg. Positioned between Munsterplatz and the district of Oberlinden, it historically marked the point where the city met the route leading eastwards into the Black Forest and further towards Swabia. 

The Schwabentor was built in the mid-13th century, making it one of the oldest surviving structures in the city. It was built as part of Freiburg’s medieval fortifications, which included walls, towers, and gates designed to control access and provide defence. 

The gate is a tall, narrow structure, originally designed to be defensible rather than decorative. It's a stone tower with a passageway at ground level, allowing controlled entry into the city. Over time, the gate was modified and heightened, particularly in the late medieval period, as defensive needs evolved. As military technology changed and city walls lost their defensive relevance,

Freiburg gradually dismantled much of its fortifications. The Schwabentor survived largely because it could be adapted to new uses and because it remained integrated into the urban fabric. In the 19th century, when many European cities removed medieval gates to ease traffic flow, Freiburg decided to keep some of theirs, which was during emerging conversations around Europe about heritage and conservation.

During the Second World War, the Schwabentor was bombed though it was not completely destroyed. Post-war restoration aimed to preserve its historical appearance while ensuring structural stability. Today, it houses a small museum and, somewhat nicely, still functions as a passageway into the old town.

I stood outside the gate one evenings just stopping and staring around and I'll admit in that moment, this city, and the historic core, struck me as truly beautiful. It's a relatively small old town, but the lights in the evening make it look very impressive.

If you go past the gate and head out of the historic city centre you come across a hill called​Schlossberg that rises immediately to the east of the historic centre. The Schlossberg is around 456 metres above sea level, which is about 250 metres higher than the old town, which made it a great place to build a castle and fortifications.

The original castle served as both a military stronghold and a symbol of authority over the surrounding region. Its location allowed control of trade routes running north–south along the Rhine valley and eastwards into the Black Forest. During the early modern period, particularly in the 17th century, the Schlossberg became one of the most heavily fortified sites in the region. Under Habsburg rule, and later during periods of French control, extensive bastions, ramparts, and underground structures were added. 

Following changes in political control and military priorities, the fortifications were deliberately dismantled in the early 18th century. In 1745, much of the fortress was destroyed by order of the French crown after Freiburg was returned to Habsburg control. The demolition was intended to prevent the site from being reused as a military stronghold by rival powers. As a result, what remains today are fragments rather than intact structures, including sections of walls, vaulted passages, and foundations.

The walk up to the top of Schlossberg isn't too long or taxing, but you can also take a small funicular railway if you like (a little bit like the one in Bridgenorth that you can read about here). The views from the top are pretty cool, you can see most of the city, and even some mountains in the distance. The skyline is dominated by Freiburg Minster, but you can see some of the medieval gates, and the beautiful red rooftops of the city's buildings. There more than one route up, and more than one route down, and along the route there are places where you can eat and drink too.

Much like Strasbourg, I came to check out some of the Christmas markets. These markets are Germanic in origin and best seen in Germany. ​The main Christmas market areas include Munsterplatz, Rathausplatz, and Kartoffelmarkt. The market at Munsterplatz is the biggest and busiest, but much like Strasbourg, there are markets dotted around several places.

The markets are much smaller than those in Strasbourg, but also feel less commercial. The food is better here, but the overall feel is definitely better in Strasbourg which markets itself as a Christmas market destination. Freiburg's markets are a little less busier, a little more cheaper, and if crowds annoy you, then you might find the experience in Freiburg a little easier. The markets did make a city, which does feel a little worn down, sparkle a little bit. It added a warm hue on the cold winter nights that I visited, which in turn made the shops in the area also feel a little more festive. 

I'm not so sure I would recommend a trip to Freiburg, especially with so many options in the surrounding area. Freiburg Minster is genuinely beautiful, and the views from Scholssberg are pretty cool, but I'm not sure I'd made the trek out here just to see the city. And that's not a knock on Freiburg, it's just a reflection that within an hour you are in beautiful parts of Germany, Switzerland, and France so the competition is strong.

That said, if you find yourself going through Freiburg into any of those other places, an afternoon stop off in Freiburg to stretch your legs and to see the old town isn't a bad idea. As a Sikh, I had a few stares but nothing more than that and it generally felt like a relatively safe and easy place to visit and get in and out of, although to my knowledge there are not any Gurdwareh too close to the city. Thumbs in the middle kind of city.

I've visited France several times, but most of my trips are to the north and the west, only once have I visited the east of the country and that was my recent visit to the beautiful town of Colmar (which you can read about here).

Strasbourg is the most German of French cities, and that's because for the majority of its history the city was a Germanic one. It's also home to some of Europe's most important institutions, and that's not surprising either because for hundreds of years it was the middle ground between Latin and German Europe.

The origins of Strasbourg lie in the Roman settlement of Argentoratum, established in the first century BCE as a military outpost guarding the Rhine frontier of the Roman Empire. After the decline of Roman authority, the city passed through the hands of various Germanic kingdoms before becoming part of the Holy Roman Empire. During the medieval period, Strasbourg developed into a free imperial city, gaining a significant degree of political autonomy. Its position on major trade routes helped it prosper economically, while its cathedral, begun in the twelfth century, became both a religious centre and a symbol of civic pride. During this time, it was a key city of the Germanic people.

In the sixteenth century, Strasbourg became a centre of Protestant though and adopted Protestantism officially for a period. This religious orientation distinguished it from much of France and reinforced its ties to German-speaking Europe. However, in 1681, Strasbourg was annexed by France under Louis XIV, but despite French control, the city retained many of its local customs, legal traditions, and German linguistic influences.

Strasbourg’s status changed again following the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71, when it was reconquered by the new German Empire. During this period, the city underwent significant urban development, including the construction of the Neustadt district, which expanded Strasbourg beyond its medieval core and reflected German imperial architectural styles. After the First World War, Strasbourg returned to France under the Treaty of Versailles in 1919. The city’s identity remained complex, shaped by decades of alternating French and German rule.

The Second World War brought further upheaval. Strasbourg returned again to Germany, this time under Nazi rule but in 1944, the city was again given to France. In the post-war period, Strasbourg took on a new and symbolic role in European politics. Its location and history made it a deliberate choice as a centre for European reconciliation and cooperation.

Today, Strasbourg is best known internationally as a major seat of European institutions. It hosts the European Parliament, which holds its plenary sessions in the city, as well as the Council of Europe and the European Court of Human Rights. This institutional presence has earned Strasbourg the reputation of being one of the de facto capitals of the European Union.

Strasbourg is also the capital of the Grand Est region and the Alsace European Collectivity, reflecting recent administrative reforms in France. The city has a population of around 290,000, with a larger metropolitan area exceeding half a million residents which is around the size of Leicester, although that's probably where the comparisons end. It's an important economic centre, with strengths in services, education, life sciences, and cross-border trade. Its proximity to Germany allows for a high level of daily commuting and economic integration with cities such as Kehl and Karlsruhe. The city’s historic centre, the Grande Île, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, recognised for its well-preserved medieval urban fabric

And what a beautiful old town it is! It's insane that a city the size of Strasbourg that has been a battle ground for millennia has managed to preserve so much of its architecture.

La Petite France is the historic district located on the western edge of Strasbourg’s Grande Île, the central island formed by the River Ill and its canals. The area developed outside the original Roman and early medieval core of Strasbourg. From the Middle Ages onwards, La Petite France became home to craftsmen whose activities were often unpleasant or polluting and therefore pushed away from the city’s more prestigious quarters. Tanneries in particular dominated the area, using river water to treat hides, which contributed to the district’s strong smells and working-class reputation.

The name “La Petite France” is generally traced back to the sixteenth century. One explanation links it to a hospice established in the area to treat soldiers suffering from syphilis. Initially it was the name of the hospital the treated the patients, but eventually it became the name for the whole neighbourhood.

Architecturally, La Petite France is characterised by its dense concentration of half-timbered houses, many dating from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. I love this architectural style and I've written about it quite it a bit previously (a good example is in Stratford). These buildings typically feature wooden frames with infill panels, steeply pitched roofs, and upper storeys that project over narrow streets. Many were designed with open attic spaces to allow animal hides to dry, reflecting the area’s historic industrial function. The layout of the district follows the natural curves of the canals rather than a rigid grid, which I think makes it look super nice.

During the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, La Petite France experienced decline. Industrial modernisation reduced the importance of traditional crafts, and many buildings fell into disrepair. The area was associated with poverty and overcrowded housing, and parts of it were considered unsanitary. There were periods when large-scale demolition was proposed, particularly during urban renewal projects in the early twentieth century. However, thankfully these plans were never fully realised.

After the Second World War, attitudes towards historic preservation began to shift. Recognition of the architectural and cultural value of La Petite France led to conservation efforts and gradual restoration. Many buildings were renovated, and the district was adapted for residential use, tourism, and hospitality. This transformation accelerated in the late twentieth century, particularly after Strasbourg’s Grande Île was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1988.

Today, La Petite France is one of Strasbourg’s most visited areas and it was certainly the busiest during my trip there. It contains a mix of housing, restaurants, hotels, and small businesses, and it is closely associated with the city’s tourist economy. Despite this, it remains a lived-in neighbourhood rather than an open-air museum but there is no getting around the fact that tourists massively outnumber locals. 

I really enjoyed it. I love the architectural style and the waterways that dot the neighbourhood are beautiful, especially when you cross certain bridges.

Perhaps the most famous bridge in Strasbourg is at the western edge of the historic centre and is called the Barrage Vauban. It spans the River Ill at the point where several canals meet. It was built in the late seventeenth century and it formed a key component of Strasbourg’s defensive system following the city’s annexation by France in 1681. and it was completed between 1686 and 1700.

The main function of the Barrage Vauban was defensive rather than purely architectural. It was designed as a hydraulic fortification, capable of controlling water levels in the surrounding river system. In the event of an attack, sluice gates built into the structure could be closed to raise water levels upstream, flooding the low-lying southern approaches to Strasbourg. This artificial flooding would have made it extremely difficult for enemy troops and artillery to advance towards the city walls. 

Structurally, the Barrage Vauban is a long, rectangular stone building with thick masonry walls and a series of arches at water level. These arches contain the movable gates that allowed water to pass through under normal conditions or be held back during defensive operations. Above the arches runs an enclosed gallery, originally intended to house soldiers and artillery. Openings along the exterior allowed cannons to be positioned to defend the river approaches, combining hydraulic control with direct military firepower.

Despite its military purpose, the Barrage Vauban was also closely connected to the economic life of Strasbourg. The regulation of water levels benefited mills and workshops downstream, many of which were located in the Petite France area. By the nineteenth century, advances in warfare had rendered many early modern fortifications obsolete, and Strasbourg’s defensive system was gradually dismantled or repurposed. The Barrage Vauban lost its military function but remained an integral part of the city’s hydraulic infrastructure. Unlike many other defensive structures, it was not demolished, partly due to its continued practical use and partly because of its prominent position within the historic urban landscape.

In the twentieth century, the Barrage Vauban underwent restoration and adaptation. The enclosed gallery was converted into a pedestrian walkway, and a panoramic terrace was added on the roof, providing views over La Petite France, the covered bridges, and the historic centre. This transformation reflected changing attitudes towards heritage, with former military infrastructure reinterpreted as cultural and public space. The barrage became less a tool of defence and more a site of historical interpretation and urban continuity.

Today, the Barrage Vauban is a landmark on the edge of the old town, its unique design making it stand out in a city full off stand-out architecture. You can see use the bridge as a footbridge and it's something that I did. Inside, a series of arches take you from one side to the other. Along the perimeter there are a series of bars (a bit like cages or vaults) and within some of those vaults are plaster casts of ancient statues taken from the cathedral, it's a little haunting. Upstairs there is a rooftop terrace that gives you views over La Petite France.

By far the most impressive building in the city is the ​Notre-Dame de Strasbourg, one of the most significant examples of Gothic architecture in Europe. Located at the heart of Strasbourg’s historic centre on the Grande Île, the cathedral has dominated the city’s skyline and civic life for centuries. I can't express in words how incredible this cathedral looks from the outside. Its footprint is huge, and the way it dominates the skyline reminded me a little of the cathedral in Rouen (that you can read about here).

The site of the cathedral has been used for religious purposes since antiquity. Earlier Roman and Carolingian structures once stood there, but the current building largely dates from the late twelfth to the fifteenth century. Construction began in 1176, initially in a Romanesque style, before transitioning into High Gothic as architectural tastes and techniques evolved. The cathedral was built using Vosges sandstone, which gives it its distinctive pink hue that changes with light conditions throughout the day, and during my visit in the afternoon, the light streamed through beautifully.

The west facade is among the cathedral’s most notable features. It is richly decorated with sculptural programmes depicting biblical scenes, and saints, and it is also the tallest side, culminating in a single spire rather than the twin towers originally planned. The north tower and spire, completed in 1439, rise to a height of 142 metres. For over two centuries, Strasbourg Cathedral was the tallest building in the world, which is both insane, but also believable because it still looks huge today.

There was a bit of a queue to get in, nothing too big, and there was also a bag check at the entrance. They don't allow hats in and initially they asked me to remove my patka but very quickly asked it was religious and when I confirmed they apologised profusely tapped my arm and said please go in, it was a very friendly and positive experience. Inside, the cathedral has extensive stained glass, much of it dating from the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. These windows illustrate biblical narratives and saints while also serving as a learning tool in a largely illiterate medieval society. Despite damage during various conflicts, a significant portion of the original medieval glass survives, offering insight into Gothic artistic practices and religious expression.

Perhaps the standout feature of the entire cathedral is the astronomical clock, or Horloge Astronomique, located right at the entrance. The current clock dates largely from the nineteenth century, though it incorporates elements from earlier versions, the first of which was installed in the fourteenth century. The clock is a complex mechanical and symbolic device, displaying astronomical information such as the phases of the moon, planetary positions, eclipses, and ecclesiastical calendars. It also reflects theological concepts, linking cosmic order with Christian doctrine. It reminded me of similar clocks I have seen in several other continental European countries, most famously in Prague (which you can read about here).

You can also climb the cathedral tower, but you have to access through a separate entrance with a long queue, and an 8 Euro charge. I've climbed many cathedral towers across Europe, so I definitely wanted to climb one that for over 200 years was the tallest in Europe. There are just over 300 steps, some of them quite narrow, leading to a platform just below the spire. The ascent offers insight into medieval construction techniques, with close views of stonework, gargoyles, and structural elements that you can't see from the ground. 

From the viewing platform, there are extensive views over Strasbourg, the Rhine plain, and, in clear conditions, the Black Forest and Vosges mountains. Historically, the tower also served a practical purpose, functioning as a lookout point for fires or military threats, and there is a guards room that displays this incredible history. It was a beautiful climb for me, one of my favourites, and I would definitely recommend to others if you have the means to do so.

​Strasbourg is one of the main cities hosting some of the most important institutions of European cooperation. Its role is the result of deliberate political choices made in the aftermath of the Second World War, shaped by the city’s border location, contested history, and symbolic value as a place of reconciliation between France and Germany. For a city that straddles the border between two countries that went to war three times in less 75 years and switched hands five times in as many centuries, it makes sense for it to play such an important role.

The most important institution based in Strasbourg is the European Parliament. Strasbourg is the Parliament’s official seat within the European Union. The Parliament holds its twelve monthly plenary sessions in Strasbourg, during which Members of the European Parliament debate legislation, vote on EU laws, and conduct formal sessions such as the State of the Union address. 

The European Parliament building in Strasbourg, officially named the Louise Weiss Building, was inaugurated in 1999. Its circular debating chamber was designed to reflect openness and democratic representation, with seating arranged to accommodate all MEPs from member states. The building also includes offices, meeting rooms, and facilities for interpretation and translation, reflecting the EU’s multilingual nature. During my visit one a cold and windy day, the modern glass frontage of the Parliament was the complete opposite of the old town which I had spend the previous day visiting. It's nowhere near as beautiful as some of the other parliament buildings, but I guess the point is the be functional and it seems to achieve that.

Alongside the European Parliament, Strasbourg hosts the Council of Europe, which predates the European Union. Founded in 1949, the Council of Europe was established to promote human rights, democracy, and the rule of law across the continent. It currently has a broader membership than the EU, including countries outside the Union. One of the Council of Europe’s most significant bodies is the European Court of Human Rights. The Court hears cases brought by individuals, organisations, or states alleging violations of the European Convention on Human Rights. The Court’s modern building, completed in the 1990s, stands on the banks of the River Ill and has become an architectural and institutional landmark within the city. Strasbourg also hosts the European Directorate for the Quality of Medicines and HealthCare, the European Audiovisual Observatory, and several other specialised bodies linked to the Council of Europe. Together, these institutions employ thousands of people from across Europe which makes Strasbourg an international city.

A big reason for me visiting Strasbourg was to see its famous Christmas markets and​Strasbourg is widely associated with Christmas markets as it is one of the oldest centres of this tradition in Europe. Christmas markets are a German tradition, and for most of its existence, Strasbourg has been a German city.

The origins of Strasbourg’s Christmas markets can be traced to 1570, when the city authorised a market known as the Christkindelsmärik. At the time, Strasbourg was a free imperial city with a strong Protestant identity following the Reformation. The market replaced earlier religious fairs connected to Saint Nicholas and was intended to provide residents with access to food, gifts, and seasonal goods in the period leading up to Christmas. This early form of the market was practical rather than decorative, focused on everyday needs during winter rather than celebration alone. Over the centuries, the Christkindelsmärik became a recurring fixture of city life, adapting to political and cultural changes as Strasbourg shifted between German and French control. While the market retained its Germanic name and character, it gradually incorporated elements from both traditions. 

Today, Strasbourg hosts multiple Christmas markets across different squares and neighbourhoods, typically running from late November through December. The Christkindelsmärik itself is centred around Place Broglie and Place Kléber and is the main Christmas market. Around it, additional markets are distributed across the historic centre, including areas near the cathedral, La Petite France, and the former Neustadt. Given they are all located within walking distance, it is easy enough to visit all of them in one go.

Each market area tends to have a slightly different emphasis, although all follow broadly similar formats. Wooden chalets are used throughout, reflecting Alpine and Upper Rhine traditions. You have your stalls selling food, drinks, and things like gloves, scarves, and handicrafts. The main market has a performance stage and a huge Christmas which has a big light up ceremony each evening. I caught it and it was pretty cool.

The markets attract several million visitors annually, including a large proportion from neighbouring countries such as Germany and Switzerland, as well as international tourists and the main Christmas market was shoulder to shoulder busy. That being said, everyone seemed to be in a good mood, and there's something I like about cold and dark nights, with stalls lit up that feels kind of magical, even as an adult. 

Absolutely, I think it's an incredible city. Let me be clear, when I say this, I speak about the historic core. As soon as you venture beyond that, it becomes a normal city, and parts of it have high crime rates. But the thing is, the historic centre is a decent size that you could easily spend a weekend here and have fun.

The city is easy enough to get around. There's a main train station that connects it with the rest of France and Europe with regular trains to Germany, Switzerland, and other neighbouring countries. Within the city there is an extensive tram and bus system. The trams run through some of the busiest streets in the old town, so you've got to keep your eyes open, but the transport is cheap, regular, and runs into the late evening. As a Sikh I had no issues at all, but it shouldn't be surprising as it is an international city.

For me, for the historic centre, this will be near the top of my list of favourite cities. 

I've had the opportunity to visit Kuwait, Qatar, and two different Emirates (Dubai and Abu Dhabi), but this was my first time visit one of the smallest and lesser-known Gulf countries, Bahrain. 

​Bahrain is a small island nation in the Persian Gulf that consists of one main island and around thirty smaller ones, with a total area of roughly 780 square kilometres, making it about the size of Singapore or twice the size of the Isle of Wight. It's located between the Qatari Peninsula and the eastern coast of Saudi Arabia, connected to the latter by the 25-kilometre bridge. 

Historically, Bahrain has occupied an important position in the Arabian Gulf due to its location on ancient trade routes linking Mesopotamia with the Indus Valley and East Africa. Archaeological finds show that it was once the centre of the Dilmun civilisation, one of the oldest known cultures in the region, dating back over 4,000 years. Dilmun was described in ancient Sumerian texts as a land of great prosperity and purity (basically, a Garden of Eden) and its ports facilitated the exchange of copper, dates, and pearls between the Gulf and the broader ancient world. Over the centuries, the islands were ruled or influenced by a succession of empires including the Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks under Alexander’s successors, and later by the Portuguese before falling under Arab and eventually British control.

Modern Bahrain began to take shape in the late 18th century when the Al Khalifa family, originally from the Arabian Peninsula, established their rule. In 1861, Bahrain entered into a treaty relationship with Britain that made it a British protectorate, securing defence and foreign policy in exchange for British oversight of major decisions. Independence came relatively late, in 1971, when Britain withdrew from its Gulf commitments. The country declared itself an independent emirate, and in 2002 it formally became the Kingdom of Bahrain.

Economically, Bahrain’s transformation began with the discovery of oil in 1932, the first in the Gulf. The early development of the oil sector brought prosperity, but unlike its neighbours, Bahrain’s oil reserves aren't that big and so the country diversified (a bit like Dubai) earlier than most of its regional peers.

By the 1970s and 1980s, it had developed a strong banking and financial services sector, and it remains a major regional hub for finance, insurance, Islamic banking, and communications. The capital, Manama, hosts the Bahrain Financial Harbour and a skyline of glass towers alongside traditional souks and mosques.

Bahrain’s currency, the Bahraini dinar (BHD), is among the strongest in the world, with an exchange rate of around 0.38 dinars to the US dollar — meaning one dinar is worth roughly £2.15. Coming from the UK, when you are generally converting into more money, it was a very strange experience getting less money for every pound. It also meant that I was thrown off every time I had to convert local prices into GBP. The strength of the dinar is tied to a fixed peg to the US dollar that has remained stable for decades, although that stability has been backed by neighbouring countries as Bahrain doesn't have the financial firepower of Saudi, UAE, Kuwait, or Qatar.

Culturally, Bahrain is more liberal than most of the Gulf states. Alcohol is permitted, women play active roles in public life, and the country hosts events such as the Formula 1 Bahrain Grand Prix, international music festivals, and art exhibitions. Its society is a mix of Arab, Persian, Indian, Panjabi, and even some European influences, reflecting centuries of migration and commerce.

As the country doesn't have huge oil, locals work in all sorts of jobs, and unlike Qatar and the UAE where there is strict segregation of works from the subcontinent and locals, in Bahrain you find locals working hand in hand with immigrants, which I thought was fantastic to see. Arabic is the official language, but English is widely spoken in business and daily life. The majority of the population is Muslim, split between Sunni and Shia communities, with small Christian, Hindu, and Jewish minorities also present.

Before Bahrain struck oil in the 1930s and before financial services began to dominate the economy in the 1970s, the primary economic activity was pearl fishing, or pearling.

Pearling has been central to Bahrain’s identity since antiquity. Archaeological evidence indicates that people were diving for natural pearls in Bahraini waters as early as 2000 BCE, during the time of the Dilmun civilisation. For centuries, natural pearls were the backbone of the economy across the Gulf, with Bahrain being recognised as the region’s most prolific and reputable source. The purity of Bahraini pearls were renowned from Asia to Europe. By the 19th century, the industry employed thousands of men each season including divers, boat captains, haulers, and merchants, and generated enormous wealth for the island’s trading families.

The structure of pearling society was distinctive. Divers worked for several months at sea, relying on limited food and oxygen as they descended repeatedly to the seabed. They wore nose clips, weighted stones, and used small baskets to collect oysters. Each dive lasted about a minute, often longer, and the risks were significant from drowning to sharks to physical exhaustion. The captains oversaw the crew and the voyages, while traders back on shore handled sales, financing, and export. Pearls were sent primarily to Bombay, Basra, and European markets, where they were prized as luxury goods.

The pearling economy began to decline in the early 20th century. The introduction of cultured pearls by Japan in the 1920s, combined with the Great Depression and changing fashion trends, devastated the market for natural pearls. Within a generation, Bahrain’s centuries-old industry had virtually collapsed. 

​The Pearling Path in Bahrain is a connection to this old heritage of Bahrain. The path is located in the old city of Muharraq and Pearling Path stretches for about 2 miles, linking historic buildings, merchant houses, diving-related structures, and coastal areas that together tell the story of Bahrain’s pearling industry, which sustained the islands for millennia before the discovery of oil. In 2012, UNESCO inscribed the Pearling Path as a World Heritage Site, describing it as the last remaining complete example of the cultural tradition of pearling and its associated social and economic system. It took me about two hours to do the whole thing start to finish.

The path begins at the Bu Mahir Fort, situated at the southern tip of Muharraq Island, where divers once embarked on boats for their seasonal expeditions into the Gulf. The route then winds through the narrow alleys of Muharraq, connecting a series of restored merchant houses, shops, and public buildings that illustrate the social structure surrounding the pearling trade. It ends at the former homes of wealthy traders and leading figures of the industry.

The path is both a heritage trail and an open-air museum. Many of the buildings along the route have been carefully restored to reflect their appearance during the 19th and early 20th centuries. Traditional coral-stone architecture, carved wooden doors, and shaded courtyards convey the aesthetic of historic Muharraq. During my visit I saw exhibitions inside the restored houses, which showcase diving equipment, trade ledgers, and family artefacts from the pearling era. I heard stories on how the global pearl trade shaped Bahrain’s urban development and social hierarchy through speakers in different houses and exhibitions along the route.

The path is relatively well signposted and most of it takes you through urban Bahrain today which means the historical aspect of the Pearling Path is beautifully integrated into the modern city. Not all of it is amazing, and some of the houses and stops were little more than renovated reminders of what once a commercial hub, but put it all together and it tells a nice story.

Perhaps the most beautiful landmark in the country is Qal’at al-Bahrain, better known in English as Bahrain Fort. The site on which the fort sits represents over 4,000 years of continuous human occupation, making it one of the most important historical landmarks in the Gulf which makes it a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

The fort occupies a strategic position overlooking the sea which at one time linked Bahrain to Mesopotamia, Persia, and the Indus Valley. The mound on which the fort stands is an artificial hill formed by successive layers of human settlement starting from around 2300 BCE to the 16th century CE. Archaeological excavations have revealed layers belonging to different civilisations that shaped the country including the Dilmun, Tylos, Islamic, and Portuguese. Each era built on the remains of the previous one, leaving behind a dense archaeological record of urban life, commerce, and defence spanning millennia.

The earliest known settlement at Qal’at al-Bahrain was the Dilmun civilisation, which dominated regional trade between Mesopotamia (modern Iraq) and the Indus Valley (modern day Pakistan, Panjab, and even parts of India) around 4000 years ago. Dilmun is often referred to in ancient Mesopotamian texts as a land of abundance and purity, a kind of paradise. Archaeological finds from the site, including seals, pottery, and artefacts, show that it was a key trading port where goods such as copper, pearls, and dates were exchanged. Later, during the Tylos period (around 300 BCE to 300 CE), the site remained a commercial centre, with Greek and Hellenistic influences visible in architecture and artefacts.

The current visible fortifications date largely from the Islamic period and the later Portuguese occupation. In the 16th century, the Portuguese built a substantial stone fortress on top of the tell to protect their maritime interests in the Gulf. Its thick defensive walls, corner bastions, and watchtowers still dominate the site today. The Portuguese held Bahrain for only about eighty years before being expelled by local Arab forces, but their fortifications were robust and have survived centuries of exposure to the coastal climate.

The fort is free to visit and it's best to go at night as there isn't too much cover from the sun. I went after sunset and had a fantastic experience. It wasn't too busy during my visit with a few joggers running around the mound, and a small number of people visiting the fort itself. I must have spent at least an hour, maybe more, checking out the various routes in and around the fort. The grounds surrounding the fort are beautiful, with the harbour right in front. For me, this was my favourite place in the country.

While in neighbouring countries you can be lucky to find more than a single Gurdwara, in Bahrain there are at least 5 or 6 which reflects wonderfully on the country. I had the opportunity to visit two of them.

In the middle of the island, away from any large settlements, are a series of oils wells, connected with pipes, The area is dry, with no commercial or residential property, with only sand and oil wells as far as the eye can see. For me, it was a unique experience. These oil wells don't work themselves and so there are workers and maintenance teams that service this equipment. It's quite dystopian, like a film about a bleak future where the Earth is a barren shell, and certain people have to navigate the challenges of a burning planet to keep equipment running, that's how I'd describe the area. In the middle of all of this is a fenced off area where workers have some buildings, I would assume a mix of housing and offices. The buildings are small, clustered together, and appear in the barren desert as a concrete oasis. Within this compound is the Bramco Gurdwara.

You have to sign in to enter, and visitors are only permitted during morning and evening prayers. A Pakistani guard was very kind to permit me to enter outside of these hours. The moment I left the car, the searing heat of the midday sun began burning the bottom of my feet with every step that I took, so I quickly jogged into the Gurdwara. The Gurdwara, next to a mandir, is well proportioned, but uniquely shaped. Inside, there is one large room that is split into two floors (to accommodate Sachkhand for Maharaj). Thick grey pillars support the roof structure but also break the room up. There are two signs on each side of the room, the left side says gents, the right side also says gents. I have no idea if this is an inside joke (as all workers in this bleak and tough environment are men), or something else. Either way, I loved the fact that in this difficult environment, the Sikh community had built a beautifully practical Gurdwara.

On the north of the island, I visited Gurdwara Sri Guru Singh Sabha in Budaiya. It proudly notes that it is the only registered Gurdwara in the country and notes that its previous incarnations in the country date back to the 1930s. It's in a much livelier area surrounded by both commercial and residential buildings. The Gurdwara is a nice size with a large langar hall, and large darbar hall. Speakers carry paath and kirtan throughout the complex. Inside, I arrived as sevadaars were replacing some electronic equipment. The Granthi Singh explained some of the history behind the Gurdwara and told me that during weekends the sangat can be in the hundreds. It was an incredible experience, and I really enjoyed my time seeing the local community come together. You can visit the excellent website of the Gurdwara Sikh Temple Shri Guru Singh Sabha - Gurudwara in Bahrain | Prayer, Langar, Community Services 

I much prefer Bahrain to some of the other Gulf countries. There is significantly greater integration, and the history here is both well preserved and well presented. It might not have some of glamour or marketing associated with its neighbours, but to me, the culture felt deeper and more authentic. It's expensive, but so are the other Gulf countries. As a Sikh I had no issues, and it's a country that I would revisit again if the opportunity presents itself.

There is a lot we can say about the United States - good and bad. But there is one thing that the US does better than most other countries, and that is national parks. National parks are protected areas of land set aside by a government to preserve natural landscapes, wildlife, and cultural features. The idea behind them is to keep large parts of nature in a near-natural state, safeguarding ecosystems from development or exploitation. 

The concept of the national park was born in the US with the creation of Yellowstone National Park in 1872 and the beauty is that national parks across the country vary widely in character. Some are mountainous regions such as Rocky Mountain National Park or Denali National Park, others protect desert landscapes like Death Valley or Arches, and some safeguard tropical environments such as Hawai‘i Volcanoes. Others, like Everglades National Park, are set aside primarily for ecological rather than scenic reasons, preserving vital wetlands and wildlife habitats.

In fact, national parks cover over 100,000 square miles of space in the United States, making the 63 national parks larger than the entire United Kingdom (although the UK makes up for it with many landscapes in a smaller environment). For me, the strongest advantage the US has over other countries as a visitor is the number and variety of national parks.

​Shenandoah National Park is one of the most visited national parks in the country and it's located in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia, about 75 miles west of Washington DC. The park runs in a long, narrow strip for about 105 miles from the town of Front Royal in the north to Waynesboro in the south.

At its heart lies the Skyline Drive, a scenic road that follows the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains through the entire length of the park. The drive is about 105 miles long, with 75 designated overlooks offering panoramic views of the Shenandoah Valley to the west and the rolling Piedmont region to the east. The Skyline Drive is special, no doubt about it.

The road was built in the 1930s and is two lanes wide and speed-limited to 35 miles per hour, encouraging a slow and steady pace which keeps animals safe and also means drivers are safe as they are constantly looking at the views. Travelling its full length without stopping takes around three hours, but most people stop along the way which means you could easily spend a weekend here.

The drive from DC to Front Royal (which is where I entered the Skyline Drive) is around an hour and a half. Front Royal is a small town, very Christian, and it seemed to have quite a student vibe when I walked through the main street. I stopped off to get some breakfast and there were quite a few signs in a couple of the shops quoting Bible verses. People seemed friendly enough and I didn't feel like I had any issues as a Sikh.

The entrance to the Skyline Drive (and therefore the park) is well signposted, and there is small station where you pay $30 per vehicle (about £22) for a week-long pass. There are four official access points along Skyline Drive depending on where you are coming from: Front Royal, Thornton Gap, Swift Run Gap, and Rockfish Gap. These entrances are spaced roughly 25 to 30 miles apart along the park’s 105-mile length.

The Front Royal Entrance Station sits at the northern end of the park and is the most commonly used and busiest access point for visitors arriving from DC. As soon as I entered, the road immediately began a small ascent into the Blue Ridge Mountains, with the road winding upwards to the first viewpoints such as Dickey Ridge Overlook. The Dickey Ridge Visitor Center, located about five miles beyond the entrance, is like an orientation stop with exhibits, restrooms, and maps. 

Roughly 32 miles south along Skyline Drive lies the Thornton Gap Entrance Station which divides the northern and central sections of the park. Thornton Gap is particularly convenient for reaching some of the most popular hikes like Stony Man and Marys Rock. Because of its central location, many people use it as a starting point for day hikes rather than to drive the full length of Skyline Drive. Travelling south from Front Royal, this entrance takes about 45 minutes to reach by car following the road.

A further 27 miles south of Thornton Gap is the Swift Run Gap Entrance which sits near the park’s mid-section, allowing access to the Big Meadows area, one of the park’s main hubs. Big Meadows is home to the Byrd Visitor Center, a large meadow with grazing deer, and the Big Meadows Lodge and campground. This is the furthest that I drove during my day trip. At the southern end of the park is the Rockfish Gap Entrance Station where Skyline Drive meets the Blue Ridge Parkway, another scenic drive. 

About halfway between Thornton Gap and Swift Run Gap is the Skyland Resort, which, like the Dickey Ridge Visitor Center, provides an opportunity to buy souvenirs, but also has a large restaurant that overlooks the park as well as some accommodation. It was a nice place to stop later in the afternoon. The food was good, slightly overpriced but not unreasonably so, and I had arrived during blackberry season so there was a real big theme around blackberries.   

Back to the park itself, the ​Skyline Drive runs the full length of Shenandoah National Park, and along it 75 designated lookouts and many different trailheads, and rest areas. Most of these are scenic pull-offs that are no more than stepping out of the car and taking a look, while others are starting points for some of the best hikes in the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

The northern section of the park features some of the first major overlooks when entering from Front Royal. Range View Overlook, around Milepost 17, provides a wide panorama of the Shenandoah Valley and is one of the earliest pull-offs that feels properly mountainous after the gradual climb. It was the first real opportunity to see the beauty of the national park and it didn't disappoint for me. Some stops are busier than others, so you might find yourself with a lookout point all to yourself, or you might find cars parked up right behind each other. Luckily during my visit no stop was very busy and I often found the looks out points completely empty.

Not far beyond it, Jewell Hollow Overlook and Marys Rock Tunnel (near Milepost 32) offer classic views framed by rock formations and sweeping ridges. The tunnel itself, blasted through solid mountain in the 1930s, is one of the park’s most recognisable features and often photographed by drivers passing through its curved stone arch.

The stop offs are nice, and I lost count of how many stop offs I did throughout the day. I had a list of about 10 I wanted to see and got to see all of them, and there were a few others where I would drive, pull up, but not even leave the car and still get a fantastic view.

In addition to the lookout points, there are also hikes you can do at each entrance, some are quite short, others are longer. During my day trip to the park, I did three hikes including two of the highest points in the park and they were both enjoyable.

The first was the Stony Man Trail which begins just north of Skyland Resort near Milepost 41. This circular trail is about 1.6 miles long and climbs gradually to one of Shenandoah’s highest peaks at 4,011 feet. The climb was fairly easy and passed through mostly hardwood forest before it opened out onto a rocky summit ledge with expansive views west toward the Shenandoah Valley. It was a nice place to stop, relax, take a few photos, and see the absolute beauty of the park. Perhaps my favourite part wasn't just seeing the views of the natural horizon but actually seeing the ridge where the Skyline Drive cut through the national park.

I also did the Little Stony Man Trail nearby which was also a very short climb with excellent views over the park. This trail had a slightly less travelled path and was more winding, but it was relatively quick and easy and the views were excellent.

Further south, near Milepost 45.5, is Hawksbill Mountain, the highest point in Shenandoah National Park at 4,051 feet and the second of the two hikes that I did. This was one later in the day and I was rushing to get up by sunset, and down before it got pitch black (which I succeeded doing). There are two main trails lead to the summit: the Hawksbill Summit Trail and the Lower Hawksbill Trail. The shorter and steeper option, beginning at the Hawksbill Gap parking area, is about 1.7 miles round-trip, while the longer route from the lower trailhead covers about 2.9 miles. I took the shorter steeper option to try and save on time and it worked out well as I was up and down in about 90 minutes. 

At the top there is a full 360-degree view, taking in the Shenandoah Valley, Massanutten Mountain, and the distant ridges to the south. I managed to get to the summit just before sunset and it was an incredible experience as I was lucky enough to get very good visibility. 

I stayed deep into the night after the sun had set and then visited a few more lookout points in the dark. It's a completely different experience. During the day you feel like you are in this huge open green expanse, but during the night there is an eerie silence punctuated by the sounds of insects and animals (including black bears) and it feels completely different.

​It's still beautiful but it's also haunting. With little light pollution, you can see the stars clearly, but without a torch or a phone light, visibility is near zero and so as soon as I took a few steps away from the car it was, at first, a little unnerving, but as I settled in I appreciated how this experience was just as incredible but in a completely different way. During the night some of the larger animals also come out so I saw some deer, racoons, but unfortunately I didn't see any black bears.

I don't think you've scratched the surface of the United States until you visit a national park, and I hope this is the first of several more. It's the one area where the US has a comparative advantage over almost any other country in the world - the size, number, and diversity of national parks. Shenandoah is an easy introduction for those visiting or living in the eastern coast and I enjoyed my time.

For me, a day was about right but I could have stayed longer. After you've seen your 20th lookout point and done a couple of hikes, it can feel slightly "samey" but that said, experiencing the park during the day and night provided a couple of very different experiences. If you're in an around the area, and you have the time to spare, it's well worth a visit and perhaps the next time I visit, I'd like to do an overnight stay.

A few years ago, weeks before the lockdowns of the pandemic happened, I had a trip to Serbia that took me from Belgrade into mountainous territory of the south. Five years later, and I was back in Belgrade, but taking a trip in the opposite direction to the north of the country.

This trip happened because a friend I met way back when at university had fallen in love with a Serbian woman and was getting married. What married this marriage interesting is that he is a black British man of South African decent, while she is very much a white Serbian woman, of Slavic decent. When I was here last time, I wrote that not all the stares and looks you get in the country are racist, some are just inquisitive, and this wedding was proof of that.

The flight in from Birmingham was fairly straightforward, with a short stop in Munich, and I had no issues at Belgrade airport (although a South Sudanese friend of mine did get held up for a little while). Belgrade to Subotica is a straight highway, and the journey takes about two and a half hours.

Subotica is a city in northern Serbia, located in the autonomous province of Vojvodina. It lies only a handful of miles from the Hungarian border, which has shaped much of its history and identity. Today, it serves as the administrative centre of the North Backa District. Its position has always made it a strategic crossroads between Central and Southeastern Europe, and this is reflected in both its culture and economy. 

The first written mention of Subotica dates to 1391, when it appeared under the name Zabotka. Throughout the centuries, control over the city changed hands many times, passing from the Kingdom of Hungary to the Ottomans, then to the Habsburg Monarchy and Austria-Hungary, later becoming part of Yugoslavia, and today belonging to Serbia. Each of these periods left its mark, not only in terms of architecture and administration but also in terms of population composition and cultural influence. In the Habsburg period, particularly from the mid-nineteenth century, Subotica developed rapidly thanks to the arrival of the railway, the growth of trade, and the introduction of electricity, which helped foster its reputation as one of the more prosperous towns in the region.

Over the centuries, its population has included Hungarians, Serbs, Croats, Bunjevci, Germans, and Roma (there are still a lot of Hungarians in the city today). This mix is also reflected in religion, with Catholic and Orthodox communities coexisting for centuries, and in language, where Hungarian is widely spoken alongside Serbian. 

By British standards, Subotica is a relatively small city. It's population (combined with nearby Palic, is only around 100,000. This still makes it the fifth largest city in Serbia by population and the second largest in Vojvodina after Novi Sad. What sets it apart, however, is the amazing architecture dotted around the city.

And when we think about amazing architecture, nothing comes close to Subotica Synagogue. I'll be honest, I've never been to a synagogue before, didn't know it was possible, and it never really crossed my mind. 

​The Subotica Synagogue is in the centre of the city and is a throwback to a time in the early 20th century when the Jewish population of northern Serbia was significant. The synagogue was built in 1901–1902 during a period when Subotica was part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The city was then experiencing a cultural and economic boom, and the Jewish community was both prosperous and influential. The building is one of the largest surviving synagogues in Europe from that time, and among the few remaining Art Nouveau synagogues worldwide.

From the outside, the synagogue is both large and impressive. The main dome rises prominently, surrounded by smaller domes and turrets. There are colourful tiles that mix with brickwork, and the whole complex is pretty incredible to see.

Inside, I had to pay a nominal fee (about a pound) to enter the main building. The inside of the synagogue is extraordinary and now less opulent than some of the best designed Italian or French churches and cathedrals. There are painted floral motifs, elaborate stained glass windows, and wooden elements that echo traditional Hungarian folk art. The main hall could originally accommodate around 1,000 worshippers which shows just how big the Jewish population was in Subotica around this time.

During the Second World War, the Jewish population of Subotica was impacted in a big way. Many left the city never to return, and after the war, the community never recovered its former numbers, and the synagogue gradually fell into disuse. For decades, it stood largely empty, deteriorating as resources for its upkeep dwindled. By the late twentieth century, it was in a state of near ruin, although locals still loved its architecture.

Recognising its importance as a cultural and architectural monument, efforts were made to restore the synagogue. In 2018, after years of work and cooperation between Serbian, Hungarian, and international organisations, the restoration was completed. The project returned the synagogue to its original state, and while it no longer serves as a full-time place of worship due to the small size of the local Jewish community, it has taken on a new role as a cultural landmark. 

I spent quite a while walking through the main hall, then the first-floor balconies. Given that it was my first time at a synagogue, it was interesting to see the differences in the main room from the mosques / masjids, and churches / cathedrals that I have been to. Of course, there are some big differences but also striking similarities which isn't surprising given the connection all three religions have in their Abrahamic beliefs. While those beliefs are significantly different to mine, it is always nice to see, feel, and experience another way of understanding existence.

Nearby is the Franciscan Church which is one of the oldest and most historically significant religious buildings in the city. The origins of the church go back to the fifteenth century, with the first Franciscan friars arriving in Subotica around 1390. The original structure is believed to have been completed in the early 1400s, making it the oldest surviving religious building in the city.

Unsurprisingly, the building has undergone many changes across the centuries. The original Gothic elements of the medieval church were altered significantly after the destruction and rebuilding caused by wars and occupations. During the Ottoman period in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the church fell into ruin, but was rebuilt after the Habsburg reconquest in the late seventeenth century, with further additions and modifications in the baroque style during the eighteenth century. The result is a structure that today bears the marks of multiple eras, combining medieval foundations with later baroque influences, making it architecturally eclectic but historically layered.

Inside the church is comparatively simple, although there are frescoes, woodwork, and other details. Unlike the synagogue, the Franciscan Church is still an active religious building and so it's not so easy to get inside (Abrahamic faiths can be a little more closed off sometimes to people that are not considered within the group, but that's their business). At night, the church is beautifully lit up and its silhouette against the Subotica skyline looks beautiful.

The church towers are tall, but not as tall as nearby City Hall which is not only the most recognisable building in the city but also one of the finest examples of Hungarian Secessionist architecture in the whole of Central Europe. Constructed between 1908 and 1912, during the height of Subotica’s prosperity under Austria-Hungary, it was designed by the same Hungarian architects that designed the nearby Synagogue. 

The building is huge, dominating the central square of Subotica. At 76 metres, its tower is visible from far beyond the city centre. Inside, there are more than 200 rooms, including the ceremonial hall, offices, and council chambers, making it one of the largest city halls in the region. 

The City Hall has always functioned as administrative centre of Subotica. Throughout the political changes of the twentieth century, from Austria-Hungary to the Kingdom of Serbs, Croats and Slovenes, later Yugoslavia, and then modern Serbia, the building has remained the centre of municipal governance. Today, it continues to house the mayor’s office and local government. You can also climb the towers and get a view of the square below but I did not get the opportunity.

A pretty cool thing about the City Hall is the McDonalds that sits on the ground floor. As part of the same building, the McDonalds looks like the most upper-class super posh McDonalds that you will ever see. Even inside, there are opulent green tiles, classy writing and the whole thing feels a bit surreal. I never thought I'd type this sentence but... if you're in Subotica, make sure you visit McDonalds. 

Just in front of the City Hall is the blue fountain, while beside it is a more traditional style fountain, near the very large National Theatre. Opposite the building is a small tower dedicated to the Christian Trinity. During my few days in the city, this area seemed to be the heartbeat of the city. There were pop up markets during the day, music and performances (and even a large stage) during the night, and every street seemed to radiate from City Hall. Some of those streets were gorgeous, one was lined by nice restaurants and the gorgeous Raichle Palace which I ate outside of but didn't get a chance to visit (one for next time). I had fun spending a lot of time walking around the inner-city core. Parts of the city are very much run down, with some of the most in your face graffiti I have seen anywhere, but the main centre and some of the buildings that I have mentioned are stunning.

The man-made architecture of Subotica is beautiful, but what really makes this city stand out is ​Lake Palic, which is part of the neighbouring city of Palic a few miles east of the city (a short 10 min taxi ride). 

The lake is the largest in Serbia and like many lakes around the world, has its own background story. Local folklore claims that the lake was formed when a shepherd cried so many tears over the loss of his flock that the hollow filled with water. The saltiness of the water was explained as the tears themselves. In reality, the lake is a remnant of the ancient Pannonian Sea, which once covered much of Central Europe millions of years ago. This explains why the water was historically saline, a feature that led to the establishment of a spa culture around the lake in the nineteenth century. The therapeutic properties of its mud and water were believed to have healing effects, and visitors began arriving for health treatments as early as the mid-1800s.

By the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Lake Palic developed into one of the most fashionable resorts in the region, particularly under Austria-Hungary. With Subotica growing rapidly at the time, the city’s elites and visitors from further afield saw Palic as an ideal escape from the polluted urban life. Villas, promenades, and leisure facilities were built along its shores, many of them in the Hungarian Secessionist style that also defined Subotica’s synagogue and city hall.

Today the area is sustained by tourism, and it leans heavily into its spa-history. I visited during the day and the evening, and sunset at the lake was nature at its finest. There are little bars and restaurants that surround the lake, and people seemed generally nice. There are more hotels around here to cater for tourists, but even then, it never felt overcrowded and I was there during the middle of summer. 

If you're in the neighbourhood (Hungary, Serbia) and you have a couple days spare, Subotica is well worth the visit. It has a mix of cultures from the two countries shown in the people, food and architecture. Yes, you will likely get stares if you're a turban wearing Sikh, and yep not all of those are going to be nice. But for me, that's as far as it went. I didn't have any issues, and the people that did interact with me were very pleasant.

​Thumbs up for Subotica.

Growing up in the UK, an island in the Caribbean was a synonym of paradise. Caribbean islands were a part of everyday language to illustrate an end goal of success. Considering this background, it's crazy to think that even though I am on the doorstep of the Caribbean these days, I've only visited one country in region previously (and you can read about my visit to Trinidad and Tobago here).

Recently, I had the opportunity to explore Dominica, an island that is relatively small and less well known. When I was telling people that I was going to Dominica, they automatically assumed that I meant the Dominican Republic - but the two islands couldn't be more different.

For starters Dominica is largely an English speaking island and it is smaller, and less well developed. It markets itself as the natural untouched island in the Caribbean and you don't need more proof of that than the flight into the island.

​It's comfortably one of the most beautiful (but also one of the scariest) approaches that I have ever done - stick it up there with Belize, La Paz, and Cusco. The plane approaches the island before making a series of turns, mountains on all sides of the plane. At one point I was convinced that a wingtip was going to touch the treetops that were so close to the plane you could make out individual leaves and branches. It's one of the most breathtaking landings of my life.

Let's start with the geography, Dominica is a small island nation in the eastern Caribbean. It lies between the French territories of Guadeloupe to the north and Martinique to the south, forming part of the Lesser Antilles. The island is around 29 miles long and 16 miles wide, making it one of the smaller Caribbean states in terms of size. It has a population of less than 80,000 people which means it's also one of the smaller Caribbean states in terms of population. The size is one of the reasons that it is often overlooked or less well known.

The island was originally inhabited by the Kalinago, also known as the Caribs, who resisted European colonisation longer than most other Caribbean peoples (more on the Kalinago later). Christopher Columbus sighted the island on a Sunday in November 1493 during his second voyage, which is why it was named Dominica, meaning “Sunday” in Latin.

Unlike many other Caribbean islands, Dominica was not immediately colonised by the Spanish, partly because of its rugged terrain and the resistance of the indigenous people. The French began settling in the 17th century, but Britain and France contested control of the island throughout the 18th century.

After several battles and treaties, Britain formally took control in 1805. Slavery was abolished in Dominica in 1834, and the island later became one of the first British colonies in the Caribbean to have a Black majority legislature. Dominica gained independence from the United Kingdom in 1978 and has remained a parliamentary democracy within the Commonwealth.

The capital city, Roseau, located on the west coast, is the main political and economic centre. Portsmouth, the second largest town, lies further north. The population is largely of African descent, reflecting the legacy of slavery during the colonial period, though there is also a small but significant community of Kalinago people who retain a degree of cultural autonomy in a designated territory on the east coast. These are the original inhabitants and look more South Asian in terms of features. 

The economy of Dominica is relatively modest compared to some of its Caribbean neighbours. For much of the 20th century, agriculture was the backbone of the economy, with bananas serving as the main export. However, the banana industry has declined over recent decades due to reduced preferential trade agreements with Europe, vulnerability to hurricanes, and increased competition.

Today, agriculture still plays an important role, particularly crops like citrus fruits, root vegetables, and coffee, but it is no longer dominant. Tourism has become an increasingly important sector, though Dominica attracts fewer visitors than islands such as Barbados or Saint Lucia, largely because it has fewer sandy beaches and less direct international air connectivity. Instead, the country markets itself to ecotourists, hikers, and divers who are drawn to its volcanic landscapes, national parks, and dive sites. 

​Roseau, the capital of Dominica, is at the opposite side of the island (even though there is a closer airport to the city, the runway is much shorter and it is usually used for charter flights). The island isn't big, but the roads are underdeveloped, and it is a very mountainous place. This means the journey from the airport to Roseau takes about an hour and it is one of the most meandering, rollercoaster style roads I've ever been on. If you've been to Sri Hemkunt Sahib you'll know what I mean.

Both on the way to Roseau and the way back to the airport a week later, I felt travel sickness in ways that I rarely do elsewhere, and it wasn't just me - others doing the same journey described it in similar fashion and when I spoke with locals they all asked me about the journey and laughed at my response. It seems as though everybody knows it's not a fun journey.

Roseau is a pretty small city that is the political, economic, and cultural hub of the island. Located on the southwestern coast, the city is framed by the Caribbean Sea to the west and steep green hills rising to the east, giving it a dramatic backdrop that is typical of Dominica’s rugged volcanic terrain. The city itself is relatively small compared to other Caribbean capitals, with an urban population of around 15,000 to 20,000 people, though it functions as the central point for much of the island’s commercial and administrative life. Its modest size means that it has more of the feel of a large town rather than a bustling metropolis.

The French were the first Europeans to establish a permanent settlement there in the 18th century and the town developed with a distinctly French character, seen in its early wooden houses and narrow streets. After Britain gained control of Dominica in 1763, Roseau became the island’s colonial capital, and over time, more British-style stone and brick buildings were added to the urban landscape. Today, the city’s architecture reflects this layered colonial past: Georgian-style stone houses with wooden verandas sit alongside colourful Caribbean cottages, churches, and more modern concrete structures.

When you walk around, that eclectic mix comes out, but for the most part, the city looks fairly run down. That's not to say that the architecture isn't nice or interesting, it is, but much of the buildings look in need of a paint job. But the structures themselves can be beautiful. I especially like the area around the port with townhouses that have balconies on the upper floors, as well as the inside of certain bars made of stone during British rule.

The Botanic Gardens are just a short walk from the city centre and it's like a big open park in the middle of the city filled with local flora and fauna. Nearby is the Roseau Market which is busiest on Fridays and Saturdays and sells local goods, food, but also souvenirs and handicrafts.

I walked around the city during the day and late at night in many different directions, and while it doesn't feel completely safe, the people that I interacted with were very pleasant and I had no issues whatsoever.

During the day I was approached by a few people asking for money, but nothing crazy. Some nights the city felt like a ghost town, while on a Friday night the strip by the port was completely packed. On this night roads were blocked as locals were racing down the strip on cars and motorbikes, doing stunts, while crowds lined the street with drinks and loud music. I hung around for a while and had fun, and while I got a few stares, the vibes were very positive. On other nights, my walks to restaurants were on very quiet roads, especially after the sun went down. I also took a longer road to the nearby town of Citronier and while it wasn't a particularly beautiful walk, I did go past a couple of bakeries that had the most incredible fragrance.

Food prices were slightly higher than I expected but this reflects the fact the island imports a lot of its main staples. The restaurants I visited ranged from small stone houses to large modern food courts, and while the service was consistently slow, it was always friendly and I enjoyed the food.

During my weeklong visit to Dominica, there was a ship docked at port the whole time. I ignored it for the first few days, but eventually curiosity got the best of me and I decided to ask someone local. I was told the ship was a floating library that sails around the Caribbean docking at ports at various islands and staying there for a week or two allowing locals to come in and purchase books.

Well, that massively stoked my curiosity so I did a little bit of background reading and headed out to the port to check it out. 

The ​Logos Hope is a ship that is the world’s largest floating book fair. It's operated by a German-based Christian charity, and it travels from country to country, offering people access to affordable books while also running community projects, humanitarian aid, and cultural exchange initiatives. 

The ship was purchased by the charity in 2004 and it underwent a significant refit, transforming from a ferry into a floating library. Entire decks were rebuilt to include a vast book fair area, auditoriums, and meeting rooms. Cabins were redesigned to house an international crew of volunteers, and new systems were installed to ensure the ship could operate efficiently as it travelled long distances. After several years of renovation and preparation, Logos Hope was officially launched on mission in 2009.

The ship is staffed mostly by volunteers, with around 400 crew members from up to 60 different nationalities on board at any given time. These volunteers commit months or years of their lives to serving on the vessel, handling everything from navigation and engineering to book sales and community outreach. 

When Logos Hope docks at a port, the process is carefully coordinated. The ship usually stays for one to two weeks, during which it opens its book fair to the public. Volunteers often go ashore to work with local charities, schools, hospitals, and community groups. This can range from offering practical support, such as renovation projects or aid distribution, to running educational workshops and cultural exchanges.

You have to get a ticket to enter but the price is the equivalent of less than a pound. There was a quick security check after the ticket check which just looked inside bags, no airport style security or anything. The ship looked magnificent and the walkway into the vessel was beautiful. Inside, at the entrance there is a video, very Christian heavy (is it should be) which gives some details on the history of the ship, how it works, and what you can expect inside.

The fair itself is vast by maritime standards, with thousands of titles covering education, self-development, health, technology, fiction, children’s literature, and spiritual themes. Prices are often kept deliberately affordable, particularly in lower-income countries, so that books are accessible to as wide a population as possible. Of course, each book there shouldn't run counter to the Christian theme, and a significant amount of books were more overtly religious. This is all good, I think it's nice that the charity work has a religious element. Where it went too far (and where I didn't agree) was where some of the books were against other religions, some of them quite overt. Abrahamic religions love to split the world into believers and non-believers; Jews and Gentiles, Christians and Pagans, and Muslims and Infidels, and some of the book definitely crossed into territory that I think is a dangerous way of thinking.

I didn't get anything, it's mostly geared toward kids and young adults. Volunteers also seemed quite young, pre-university age mostly I would guess. At the end of the bookstore area is a decent sized canteen and then you walk out onto the exit.

I think it's a great idea, and it definitely inspired me. I think it has the potentially to help a lot of children improve their reading, while also picking up good ethical and moral values.

The most famous natural attraction in Dominica is the boiling lake, however, the trip is nearly a full day round trip hike, and given there was a fair bit of rain before and during my trip the ground was quite muddy. It's a shame, if it were dryer I would have liked to do it. Alternatively, there is a new cable car system opening at the end of the year, a multi-million dollar project that will get people to the boiling lake in less than 20 minutes. But I was too early for that too!

I didn't miss out completely on the natural wonders of Dominica, because Trafalgar falls were pretty special. They're also a lot more accessible, as it is just a twenty-minute drive from Roseau, in the Morne Trois Pitons National Park. Their location inside the UNESCO-listed park highlights their importance, as they embody both the volcanic origins of the island and its dense tropical rainforest environment.

Trafalgar falls aren't the biggest or tallest waterfalls I've ever seen but what makes Trafalgar Fall distinctive is that it is not a single waterfall but a pair. Locals call them “Mama” and “Papa” Falls. Papa Falls is the larger, plunging about 40 metres down a cliff face. Mama Falls is smaller, at around 20 metres, and has a gentler, more graceful flow. The two stand side by side, surrounded by thick green vegetation and framed by huge volcanic boulders scattered across the valley floor. The constant mist in the air and the thunderous sound of water rushing down create an atmosphere that feels both dramatic and calming.

Visiting Trafalgar Falls is straightforward and one of the easiest ways to experience Dominica’s natural splendour. Entry to the falls requires a ticket, usually purchased at the visitor centre near the entrance. For non-residents, the cost is around £3, though prices may vary slightly. This fee goes toward the upkeep of Morne Trois Pitons National Park and supports conservation work. From the entrance, it’s only about a ten-minute walk along a well-maintained trail through the rainforest to the viewing platform, where both Mama and Papa can be seen together. The path is paved and relatively easy, and there are some souvenir shops outside.

To understand the sulphur spas, you need to ​first understand the island a little bit. Dominica exists due to volcanic activity. The island sits on the Lesser Antilles volcanic arc, where the movement of tectonic plates forces magma close to the surface. Rainwater seeps into the ground, where it is naturally heated by this geothermal energy before re-emerging as hot springs. Along the way, the water absorbs minerals from the surrounding rocks, including sulfur, iron, and calcium, giving it its distinctive smell and its cloudy, mineral-rich appearance.

This makes it a hotspot for hot spas and sulphur spas. There are a few on the island and I visited Ti Kwen Glo Cho which is situated in the Roseau valley close to the capital and not far from Trafalgar Falls. The first thing I noticed is that are many hot spas in the area, it's called the hot spa capital of the Caribbean. Driving through the area you can see steam venting up from random locations, it's pretty surreal.

Ti Kwen Glo Cho itself is quite small, rustic but carefully arranged to preserve a sense of natural charm. The site features stone pools filled with hot sulfur water, shaded by tropical vegetation, as well as quirky bathing tubs fashioned from old rum barrels. There are also smaller cold water spas nearby. You can move between the different pools, and there is also an outside shower. Weirdly, nearby is a miniature "zoo" (that's what the sign says) but in reality its a small space that contains rabbits, guinea pigs, and tortoises.

There's only one small changing room, but when I arrived the pool was completely empty. The hot water takes a moment to get used to, and after a few minutes I found myself sweating a decent amount. It's a weird sensation but I understand why people find it so relaxing. Visiting Ti Kwen Glo Cho is also affordable, which adds to its popularity. The entrance fee is typically around £8 per person though prices may sometimes be slightly lower depending on the season. This includes access to all the pools and the gardens, with no time limit on how long you can stay

Wotten Waven, a nearby village, is especially famous for its geothermal baths. Options there range from small family-run spas to more developed facilities such as Screw’s Sulphur Spa, which offers multiple pools of varying temperatures and a livelier, social atmosphere (I wanted to go there, but unfortunately it was closed during my visit). Others, like Bongo Baths, provide a quieter and more rustic experience. Entrance fees in these spas usually fall in the same range, around US $5–15 (so you're never paying more than about £12), depending on the size of the facility and what is included. 

The sulfur spas have also become important for Dominica’s eco-tourism strategy. The island markets itself not through beaches and large resorts, but through nature and wellness. These spas fit perfectly into this approach. 

Perhaps my favourite part of the island was a visit to the famous Emeral Pool. The pool is also within the Morne Trois Pitons National Park. There is a decent sized car park and entrance is about £3.

The trail to the pool is well-maintained and an easy walk (it can just get a little slippy in places if it has rained). The walk is a loop of about 15–20 minutes through the rainforest, and along the way you can small birds and animals in the lush green forest.

The pool is an incredible sight. It is set in a small natural amphitheatre, surrounded by dense greenery that adds to the sense of seclusion. The waterfall drops into a circular basin of cool, clear water, shallow at the edges and deeper in the centre. The “emerald” colouring comes from a combination of the mineral content of the water, the shaded forest canopy, and the reflection of surrounding vegetation. 

I visited during the early evening, and it was very quiet, just a couple of other people were in and around the pool. I jumped into the pool, swam under the waterfall and climbed around the rocks. The pool is mostly relatively shallow, but it does get deeper closer to the waterfall. For me, it was an absolutely magical experience, and probably my favourite place on the island and so I spent a fair bit of time there, only leaving as the sun set and the pool started losing light (although I did manage to smash my knee off a rock which cause a small cut).

On the opposite side of the island from Roseau, and just south of the airport, is the Kalinago Territory. It stretches across about 3,700 acres on the island’s rugged north-eastern coast, set against steep hillsides, winding rivers, and the Atlantic Ocean. 

​Earlier, I introduced the Kalinago, and they are the indigenous people of the Carribean, and particularly the Lesser Antilles. They had established communities and trade across several islands but their numbers were decimated by disease and modern firearms bought by European colonialists. Today, Dominica is the only island where the Kalinago have a sizeable population.

The territory is a place to live but parts of it also serves as a living museum where the Kalinago can tell their stories, introduce visitors to their way of living, and earn some money. A Kalinago guide was available and did a walk through a part of the territory speaking about its history and present state. 

The Carib Territory (as it was initially known) was formally established in 1903, when the British colonial administration set aside this area as communal land for the Kalinago. This recognised their rights to land after centuries of displacement. The territory is not divided into individual freeholds like the rest of Dominica but instead held communally. This means that while families can farm and build within the territory, the land itself cannot be sold or taken away. It is governed by a Chief and a Council, elected by the community, which adds another layer of distinctiveness to life in the territory.

Inside the territory you can see the construction of thatched Ajoupas (traditional huts), canoe-building demonstrations, basket weaving, and stories about how the territory operates in practice. The walk around the part of the territory open for visitors wasn't too long, less than an hour, and there are some beautiful parts, with some beautiful views over the Atlantic Ocean.

It's sad to hear how the indigenous population of these islands, which once lived across several islands, it now largely centered around one territory within Dominica, but it was also very good to hear the resilience, the cultural revival, and the fact that Dominica has taken such strong steps to ensure this culture does not simply disappear like so many others.

The Kalinago Territory didn't just show me a physically different side to the island (the Atlantic Coast) but also a different type of experience. Something deep, meaningful, important, and functional. It also gave me a stronger appreciation of the people that live here (and not just the Kalinago).

On the way back to Roseau, on the same long and winding roads that made me feel travel sick the week before, there were a few stops along the way in small little bar-like establishments. These are dotted around the island and at night are so beautiful because you'll have a hut, lights on, and then around it nothing but miles of darkness as far as the eye can see with the forests and jungles hidden by the night. It's a nice reminder that Dominica is not just another Caribbean island, but something special in its own right.

I liked it, but if you've read my blogs before, you'll know I'm not much of a beach person and Dominica is not famous for its beaches. The natural part of Dominica is incredible, there are large parts of the island that just feel untouched, and there is a lush greenery every you go other than the cities and towns. 

Roseau is... fine. It's a city, a very small one, and a decent base. I didn't go diving or swimming in the Caribbean and that is something Dominica is known for, and I hope to return someday to visit the Boiling Lake.

As a Sikh there were no issues whatsoever on the island or in the airport - no issues with salais at airport security either. In terms of cost, it's cheaper than some of the larger or more famous Caribbean islands, but it's not exactly Lao or Cambodia either given the costs of importing so much. The food is good and for those readers that are vegetarian you won't have any issues. Fruit is fresh, and you'll see some familiar food items like roti on menus.