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I’m writing this at the back of a green ’82 Mitsubishi kombi, Stevo on my right, our new friends, Stefan and Stephy in the front, and a gorgeous white Siberian Husky named Mansi, in the back. It’s 1:03am and the sun is not even remotely close to setting…in fact, the next time this town will see darkness will be July 28th. We are just over half way through our road trip to the North Cape — 71 degrees North, and the northern most point of Europe. Our bags are packed with local Norwegian beer, camera gear, woolen undergarments (which we’ll wear in our four-season sleeping bags), and sausages (that will be poked with sticks we find, and placed on a...

There’s receiving-a-weekly-fluff-calendar-addressed-to-you-from-Instagram cool. There’s bumping-into-your-favourite-celebrity-at-your-local-deli cool. And then, there’s Berlin. Although we only spent a couple days roaming the inner city neighborhoods, we were blown away with Berlin’s ahead-of-the-curve freshness. It’s as if the whole town has been painted over with a sleek design brush. Everything from the chic glass parliament buildings, to the intricate typography found on store signage. We couldn’t get enough. Our day began with a cultural visit to the Berlin Wall. As children, we only read about this historical site, and it was a surreal experience to be surrounded by this powerful symbol of the world’s history. As both our families were directly affected by the war, the feelings we were left with that day, will...

It’s not everyday you get to drive into another country for the morning; at least not for a couple of South Africans. This was a quite a new concept. Chanel: “What do you want to do today?” Steve: “Not sure hey, maybe a drive to the lake?” Chanel: “How about we drive to Germany?” Being only 45 minuets away from our current location, the town of Burghausen, situated in the Altötting district, was the perfect way to spend a weekday. Hopping the border was as easy as driving across the Salzach river into the old town. You are immediately taken aback by the vibrant coloured building in the main square, but then as you look up, you see a massive...

My passion lies in adventure photography. If you give me a chance, I’ll be out in the wilderness with no questions asked. I grew up in a massive city, so the thought of exploring the outdoors has always appealed to me. Today I’m traveling Europe in search of big skies and deep lakes, and I want to inspire you to do the same. It’s almost impossible to follow every epic account on Instagram, but I have trawled through countless profiles to bring you the best of ‘adventure photography,’ including landscape, wildlife, surf and outdoor lifestyle. If your blood runs thick with adventure, but your feed is filled with too many duck-faced teenagers, then have a look at the inspiring list below....

As we traveled through the Austrian countryside on our Westbahn train, we had no idea what to expect from Linz. Would it look like Salzburg (the only reference of an Austrian city we had)? Would it be almost as chaotic as Amsterdam on New Year’s Eve? Don’t ever go to Amsterdam on New Year’s Eve. Would it have a traditional feel like Munich, with a “who wore their Lederhosen best”? Well, it only took an hour and a bit to get to Linz, so we would shortly find out. We then heard the familiar sound of an Austrian woman shouting at us over the intercom: “Nächster Halt…Linz,” so we packed up our gear, and stepped off the train into freezing...

Sometimes you arrive in a city, and it immediately sweeps you off your pleather boots. You get this weird buzz under your skin; it’s like you’ve been there before – maybe in a past life – and all 43 muscles in your face suddenly jump into a frenzy. “Why can’t I help but smile?” you ask yourself, “why do I look like a cheese douche, smiling at nothing?” This was the case with Vienna, possibly the most contradictory city in Austria. On the one hand, you get the modern, chic bustle any major city gives off – pristinely-manicured women, hustling through the U-Bahn, and a cosmopolitan flair exuding similar traits to that of London (or New York, I would imagine)....

It’s been 3 weeks since we left sunny South Africa, and based on popular beliefs, new habits should have formed by now. The get-up-early-to-get-cracking-with-the-day routine of everyday life should be all but a distant memory. On the contrary, we are on a very strict schedule – those who know me will understand my need for structure (and my love for schedules). Sure, we’re no longer waking up to an annoying alarm, but rather allowing our natural sleep cycle to function on its own; and leaving our house doesn’t involve long, painful sessions in the morning traffic; but our get-up-early-and-get-to-work habit definitely hasn’t gone anywhere. When planning our journey, we spent a lot of time referencing the Godfather of creative sabbaticals,...

Leading up to our departure, we obviously had to get rid of, *ahem, throw away and sell* a lot of our stuff. When crossing borders, every last gram is precious. With a baggage allowance of 30kg each, and hand luggage allowance of 7kg each, Steve and I were faced with quite a feat – how to compress and diminish our entire lives into 74kg. That’s like one person. An average height, average weight human that needed to eat all our belongings, and hop on-board with us. Phew. For those of you who know me well, I am a little bit of a clothing collector…ok ok, clothing hoarder. I own(ed) 7 watches, multiple pairs of boots, tons of dresses, and all the...
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