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Gyros, Giros and Yiros
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One thing I found out pretty quickly is that in Crete there are a number of different English spellings for each Greek word or name. Road signs are not consistently spelt, so if you are heading for Hania, you may actually arrive in Chania or even Xania. But what’s this…
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Diving the Saint Didier, Turkey
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I walked for an hour through the busy city of Antalya, Turkey, to reach the dive centre. I was excited about the day ahead, as I was going to dive on the WWII wreck of the Saint Didier.
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The Saint Didier, Turkey
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Only a kilometre from Antalya harbour, Turkey, hidden beneath the sparkling waters captured in millions of holiday photos, is a little-known WWII wreck.
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Visiting Chernobyl, Part II, Ukraine
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You can certainly learn a lot from secondary sources, but nothing compares to seeing a place like Chernobyl first-hand.
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Visiting Chernobyl, Part I, Ukraine
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‘Dark Tourism’ has become more than a catchphrase; it’s now a bona fide part of the broader tourism industry. There is no shortage of people who want to see first-hand the places where significant historic tragedies, crimes and disasters occurred. I am one of them.
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Chicken Kiev, Ukraine
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A few of my mates asked if I had eaten a Chicken Kyiv in Kyiv. Turns out there is less Kyiv in Chicken Kyiv than I thought. I have a table for two – join me, won’t you?
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Climbing Mt Hoverla, Ukraine
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I might not have got to see Mt Hoverla and the greater Carpathians in all their spectacular beauty, but I certainly did have an experience of Ukraine’s alpine country.
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Museum of Strategic Missile Forces, Part II, Ukraine
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In the midst of paddocks in south-central Ukraine, a tour guide and I were cramped inside an elevator descending 30 metres into the earth to visit an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile command centre.
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Museum of Strategic Missile Forces, Part I, Ukraine
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The brinksmanship, mistrust and misunderstanding between the east and west during the Cold War had created weapons so monstrous that offensive, defensive or erroneous launch would had spelled the end of everything.
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Sleeping Bag, Bulgaria
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It was time to replace my sleeping bag. Out of the corner of my eye I saw it sitting on the lounge, bound up tight in its red stuff sack. I looked away. I felt like I was betraying a friend.