For two weeks around each new moon, bioluminescence flickers across Bon Accord Lagoon. Movement sparks chemical reactions, causing the tiny organisms to gleam an indescribable colour, the shade of stars and static and glowworms. Fish darted past; shooting stars beneath a moonless sky.
On an island as tiny as Tobago, it’s doubly thrilling to discover that the road less travelled still remains. In this case the “road” was a river, and I was navigating it not by boat, but on foot – barefoot – with a man named Porridge.
Namibia is described as the “Land of the Brave”, but that was not how I felt as I lay on my belly on a thin piece of hardboard on the edge of a sheer, 100 metre high cliff of sand, which I was about to whizz down face-first at a speed of 80km per hour.