Jack Aynsley Travel📍Louisiana-Texas Border, USA 🇺🇸 They told us to be careful in the South. What they didn’t tell us was how quickly strangers would become friends.
🐊 Deep in the Louisiana swamps and STILL getting blazing fast 5G with my Sim Local eSIM! No dropped calls, no dead zones, just reliable coverage wherever your adventures take you. Use my code JACKAYNSLEY and save on your next eSIM ↓ tidd.ly/4o7XKpH
A quiet road on the Louisiana–Texas border led us to the bayou, still water stretching out beneath Spanish moss in the heavy summer heat. A red pickup slowed, reversed. Back home, you might brace yourself. Here, a young man just wanted to make sure we weren’t lost. He sent us to a boat landing, told us to watch for gators.
Minutes later, a couple rolled in with a gleaming boat. Tony grinned, “Want to come for a ride?” And just like that, we were flying through the bayou, wind in our hair, gators sliding through the shallows. We drifted to a sandbar where a group of twenty-somethings welcomed us with Titos vodka, a rope swing over gator water, and an invitation to try firing a pistol for the first time in our lives.
The day became a blur of sun, laughter, and adrenaline. The roar of the boat engine. The warm rush of the bayou as we hit the water. The weight of cold steel in my hands, guided by patient voices. And everywhere, smiles that made us feel like we belonged here, even though we had only just arrived.
What began as a roadside stop turned into one of the best days we have ever had. No agenda, no judgment, just pure hospitality. The kind of South you will never understand until you are here.
Is This The DEEP SOUTH They Warned Us About? 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-12 | 📍Louisiana-Texas Border, USA 🇺🇸 They told us to be careful in the South. What they didn’t tell us was how quickly strangers would become friends.
🐊 Deep in the Louisiana swamps and STILL getting blazing fast 5G with my Sim Local eSIM! No dropped calls, no dead zones, just reliable coverage wherever your adventures take you. Use my code JACKAYNSLEY and save on your next eSIM ↓ tidd.ly/4o7XKpH
A quiet road on the Louisiana–Texas border led us to the bayou, still water stretching out beneath Spanish moss in the heavy summer heat. A red pickup slowed, reversed. Back home, you might brace yourself. Here, a young man just wanted to make sure we weren’t lost. He sent us to a boat landing, told us to watch for gators.
Minutes later, a couple rolled in with a gleaming boat. Tony grinned, “Want to come for a ride?” And just like that, we were flying through the bayou, wind in our hair, gators sliding through the shallows. We drifted to a sandbar where a group of twenty-somethings welcomed us with Titos vodka, a rope swing over gator water, and an invitation to try firing a pistol for the first time in our lives.
The day became a blur of sun, laughter, and adrenaline. The roar of the boat engine. The warm rush of the bayou as we hit the water. The weight of cold steel in my hands, guided by patient voices. And everywhere, smiles that made us feel like we belonged here, even though we had only just arrived.
What began as a roadside stop turned into one of the best days we have ever had. No agenda, no judgment, just pure hospitality. The kind of South you will never understand until you are here.
#usa #louisiana #americaBritish Couples FIRST Experience of COLLEGE FOOTBALL 🇺🇸 (Alabama vs Tennessee)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-10-20 | Tuscaloosa, Alabama 🇺🇸
We went to Tuscaloosa, Alabama to experience one of the most intense sporting rivalries in America. Alabama vs Tennessee, a college football game that felt bigger than any professional match we’ve ever seen.
From tailgating at dawn and drinking with locals in college bars, to a wild frat house party, and standing pitchside at Bryant-Denny Stadium, this day was pure madness. The scale, the emotion, the music, the noise, it’s something you can’t quite describe until you’re there.
We learned about the legends, Bear Bryant and Nick Saban, took a behind-the-scenes tour of the training ground, and saw just how deep the love for college football runs in the South. This isn’t just sport. It’s identity, community, and pride rolled into one unforgettable Saturday.
If you’ve ever wondered why Americans love college football, this is why.
Huge thank you to Christopher England from the University of Alabama for inviting us, it was an experience we will remember forever.
#alabama #rolltide #usaBrits SHOCKED By Small-Town America 🇺🇸 (Deepest Oklahoma)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-10-10 | 📍Oklahoma, USA🇺🇸
We thought we’d just stop through. A quick visit to the hometown of one of our favourite artists, Zach Bryan. Instead, we stayed for hours. Oologah is one of those places that gets under your skin before you realise it. We met some of the nicest people we’ve ever come across in small-town America, full of curiosity, kindness, and stories. From quiet antique shops to the Will Rogers Museum, where we stumbled across Zach Bryan’s yearbook photo and learned about another Oologah legend, Will Rogers himself.
Locals sent us down to Oologah Lake, where the owner of the marina not only showed us her sailboat but had her chef cook us a sweet homemade dessert right there by the water. And then there’s The Iron Horse Saloon, the only bar in town and exactly the kind of place we live for. Bikers rolled in, a group called The Vagos fired up a taco cookout out back, a band set up inside, and everyone talked like old friends.
They had Twisted Tea too, which feels about right. This one’s Oologah. Small town, big heart.
#usa #oklahoma #americaFirst Time Eating CHICKEN FRIED STEAK in Tulsa, Oklahoma 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-10-06 | 📍 Tulsa, Oklahoma 🇺🇸
Our time in Tulsa began the way all good stories should, with a proper feed. Bros Hooligan, where locals swore by the chicken fried steak, and they weren’t wrong. Crispy, rich, unapologetic comfort food served beside Cajun wings and a cold Hoop Tea. Our waiter, Juice, was the kind of guy that makes you fall in love with a city before you’ve even seen it, warm, funny, proud of his city.
We wandered through Cherry Street, that perfect blend of local charm and creative pulse, then over to the other side of town where rows of little white buildings housed everything from Lululemon to Bricktown Brewery. It’s clean, calm, and full of life, the kind of place that makes you wonder what rent would be if you just stayed. The residential streets were the real surprise though, leafy, peaceful, each house telling a small story about Oklahoma life that felt instantly familiar.
But downtown Tulsa… that was something else. The silence hit first. Block after block of empty streets, bars with lights on but no customers, restaurants waiting for a rush that never comes. It wasn’t until we sat in a bar, one that to my delight had Twisted Tea on tap, that the truth came out. Twenty-seven shootings in three weeks. Musicians stopped performing. A weekend curfew. A city once full of rhythm and noise now holding its breath.
We ended our time with a quiet walk past the Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie murals, reminders that Tulsa’s soul still hums, even if softly for now. It’s a beautiful, walkable city, full of good people trying to keep the lights on through hard times.
#usa #oklahoma #americaDeep Inside The Ozarks, Arkansas 🇺🇸 (Didnt Expect This)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-29 | 📍Eureka Springs, Arkansas🇺🇸
We set off into the Ozark forest, chasing a glimpse of the Glory Hole waterfall. A hike through thick woods, where the light cuts in sharp beams and the air carries that raw scent of earth and pine. On the way to Eureka Springs, we pulled into Kingston, a one-street kind of town where the clock seems to have stopped in the 60s. We met a handful of true hippies, the kind you’d expect to find in Haight-Ashbury at its height. They were kind, generous, telling stories with a sparkle in their eyes, even handing us crystals to bless our road to Eureka.
Eureka Springs itself felt like a spell cast into the hills, enchanting, colorful, but quiet on a Monday night. We found New Delhi Café, a restaurant with the kind of word-of-mouth reputation you don’t ignore. Our server brought out food that lived up to it, and as we ate, she told us the strange history of a so-called doctor who once promised miracle cancer cures in Eureka. A story equal parts dark and fascinating, the kind of local folklore that stays with you.
By chance, she also steered us to the Wanderoo Lodge. £50 a night, and on Mondays they host live bluegrass. That night, the lodge came alive, fiddles and banjos playing, whiskey lemonade in hand, feet stomping on wooden floors. A priceless kind of magic, the sort of night you don’t plan but stumble into when you go deep into rural places like Arkansas. We couldn’t believe what an incredible pocket of life we’d found in the Ozarks.
#usa #arkansas #americaThe REAL SOUTHERN America They Never Show You 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-26 | 📍Hot Springs, Arkansas 🇺🇸
Our first stop in Arkansas took us to Hot Springs, a town that feels like it’s been lifted straight out of a Hallmark movie. Pristine streets, forested hills on either side, and a strange sense of Southern magic hanging in the air.
We sat down at Granny’s Kitchen, where Southern hospitality came on a plate. Their signature catfish po’boy might just be one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had, buttery and lightly crisp catfish tucked into perfect bread. Paige ordered the gumbo, a carousel of flavors impossible to pin down but unforgettable all the same.
Wandering into the hills, we found our first natural hot spring, boiling water rushing down the rocks. I washed my face in the steaming flow before stumbling upon a public spring tap, crowded with locals filling gallon jugs. They swore drinking it would change us, but we opted for bourbon instead at a bar where the bartender’s roots led all the way back to Newcastle.
She pointed us toward Lake Ouachita, and specifically Charlton Recreation Area, where a cold spring creek cuts through the heat. We arrived to an archetypal American Sunday, families fresh from church grilling burgers and hot dogs, kids splashing in the creek, laughter echoing off the trees. We swam until our bodies cooled, sat by a waterfall, and felt the rhythm of Arkansas.
This was just the beginning. Next stop: the Ozarks and Eureka Springs. Subscribe to follow along.
#usa #arkansas #americaWe Met Americas Nicest Man 🇺🇸 (It Broke Our Heart)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-23 | 📍England, Arkansas🇺🇸
Our first day in Arkansas, we went to a small town called England because it sounded funny. A town with a Bank of England, a Post Office of England, a Church of England, all sitting out there in the flat southern heat. We expected a quick stop, maybe a laugh, a sign photo, then back on the road.
Instead we met Mutt Faulkner. 92 years old, Korean War veteran, farmer, mechanic, church founder. He was sitting in the blazing sun, selling watermelons from the back of his truck as if the hundred-degree air meant nothing. We stopped to say hello. Minutes turned into an hour. He told us about farming, about fixing cars, about building a church. But every story circled back to his wife, Eva.
She died twelve years ago, but she never left him. He still writes her letters every night. Poems, prayers, memories. His house is a shrine to their fifty-seven years together, photographs on every wall, notes tucked into corners, reminders of a partnership that defined him. He called himself “the minion” and her the pastor, working side by side in every business, every day of their marriage.
He showed us the window shades he had invented, then the church they built together. And then he returned to his stand, to his watermelons, smiling at strangers on the roadside. We helped him sell a few, shared numbers, took photos, and with a lump in our throats said goodbye.
As we drove away across the Arkansas plains, the car went silent. We had gone looking for a joke, but found a man who broke our hearts wide open.
#usa #arkansas #americaEveryone WARNED Us About Visiting Memphis, Tennessee 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-20 | 📍Memphis, USA🇺🇸
The Bass Pro Shops Pyramid. Half hotel, half hunting lodge fever dream, all towering over the Mississippi. Checking in feels more like entering a theme park than a lobby, but upstairs there’s a viewing deck where the whole of Memphis sprawls out beneath you.
At sunset, we walk the river, the Mississippi glowing like molten copper. Downtown is close, strange, alive. The architecture leans old and worn, but every corner seems to hide a story. Two different people sent us to Rendezvous. That kind of recommendation means something here. Memphis barbecue isn’t Texas barbecue. In Texas, they drown it in sauce. Here it’s smoke, dry rub, pride.
And then Beale Street. The neon buzzes, the crowd hums, and the house bands are so good it almost feels unfair. You step into B.B. King’s place, and it hits you, this is why people come. Not for the gimmicks. For the music that cuts straight through the noise.
Everyone tells us to be careful. Don’t walk the alleys. Don’t stay out too late. Nothing good happens after midnight. The warnings are real, and you take them seriously. But still, what makes Memphis unforgettable isn’t the danger, it’s the soul.
This is Memphis. Magic and menace, grit and pride, a city that stays with you long after you leave.
#usa #memphis #americaWe Had No Idea America Was THIS Beautiful 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-18 | 📍Kentucky, USA 🇺🇸
We’ve left Nashville behind, trading neon lights for the raw beauty of wild America.
This time we’re at the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area, a vast stretch of wilderness caught between Kentucky Lake on the Tennessee River and Lake Barkley on the Cumberland. We’ll be sleeping in the car right on the shoreline, cooking over fire, and exploring trails where deer, bison, and elk still roam.
By night, it’s flames, food, and Twisted Tea under the stars. By day, it’s the kind of America you don’t read about on a brochure; forests, lakes, and the uneasy thrill of being somewhere bigger than you.
This is America without the neon, without the noise. Just water, woods, and the wild.
#usa #Kentucky #americaOur First Day in Nashville was Incredible... Until This HappenedJack Aynsley Travel2025-09-14 | 📍Nashville, Tennessee 🇺🇸
Our first day in Nashville began across the river in East Nashville. Everyone told us we had to start there if we wanted to see the real city. We took the bus and met a man named Memphis, from Memphis, who told us the biggest difference between East and West Nashville was the people. East was friendlier. A bit of foreshadowing, maybe.
We wandered through Grimey’s record store and Central Station guitar shop, picking up souvenirs for family, before ducking into Gramps Garage. A bar that feels like it’s been welded together from spare parts, mismatched signs and old wood, a place that smells of grease, beer, and history. While we were there, a couple shouted across the parking lot asking if they validated. When they heard we were from the UK, they insisted on buying us a drink. Adam and Sarah, two of America’s loveliest people. We spent hours with them, laughing and trading stories, until it was time to head back to our West Nashville hotel, slip into our country and western outfits, and hit Broadway for the night.
First stop, Hattie B’s chicken. And that’s where the night turned. A drunk stranger asked if I was a cop. When I said no, he decided I must be one. He grabbed my camera, spilling threats out of his dribbling mouth, and in the process snapped my gimbal into three pieces. His friends, the staff, even strangers nearby told me to call the police. But on my first night in Broadway, escalation wasn’t worth the risk. The camera went off.
Shaken, we could have ended the night there. But Nashville deserved more than to be defined by one asshole. So we pushed on, chasing the promise of one of the world’s great honky tonks. Roberts Western World. A place where country music isn’t dressed up for tourists, but played the way it’s always been. Guitars twang, boots shuffle on sticky floors, and cold beer comes cheap. It was everything we hoped it would be.
#usa #nashville #americaWe Visited Americas MOST FAMOUS Dry County 🇺🇸 (Lynchburg, Tennessee)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-09-10 | 📍Lynchburg, Tennessee 🇺🇸
In Lynchburg, Tennessee, life orbits around a single name. The town itself feels less like a place where people live and more like a stage set, a storefront for the legend of Jack Daniel. We paid our respects at Miss Mary Bobo’s, the matriarch of Southern hospitality, her table heavy with catfish, ribs, collards, apples bathed in whiskey.
Outside, the square is quiet. Shops sell souvenirs more than groceries, trinkets more than tools. Jack’s grave sits not far from Mary’s, the two of them bound forever in the mythology of this place.
At the distillery, our guide, sharp, funny, and absolutely in command, poured six whiskeys that told the story better than any words could. And when the sun sank and the day offered nothing else, we found ourselves back at a roadside motel. A wooden bench. A bottle we’d carried from the stillhouse. Just two travelers, drinking Tennessee whiskey in the silence of a town that doesn’t seem to need anything more.
Three days on a ranch in rural Alabama. £60 a night bought us a Native American-themed cabin overlooking acres of untamed land, creeks winding through the woods, wildlife crossing quietly at dusk. Out front, rocking chairs on the porch faced a barrel racing arena and, just beyond, the little western town Lorna and Dennis built with their own hands.
Days bled into nights with no sense of time. We rode trails through the trees, cooked on a Blackstone grill with vegetables still warm from the sun, drank Twisted Teas until the cans piled up. We sat around talking rubbish deep into the dark, no rules, no pretenses, no modern nonsense. Just people, stripped down to who they are.
The line dancing was awful, the bourbon generous, the midnight lasso lesson a strange blur of rope and laughter. But somewhere in there was something rare: a profound kind of silence inside yourself, the kind that makes you stop and wonder what really matters.
“It was a powerful and profound experience. It was life-changing, in fact. I came away from that asking myself… what do I do now? What’s important? To me? What matters? What’s possible? Where do I go from here?” - Anthony Bourdain
Want to stay with Lorna? airbnb.com/l/6MgLBPT1 airbnb.com/l/hvknoomp Although if this is booked out when we want to stay, then you have to let us stay in the bunk room with you 🤣
#usa #alabama #americaIs This The Alabama They Warned Us About? 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-29 | 📍Birmingham, Alabama🇺🇸
We didn’t expect this Alabama. Walking down the streets of Birmingham, we were floored by the architecture, some buildings echoing old Philadelphia or Boston, others taking us back home with cobblestones that felt straight out of England. Two guys on BMX bikes rolled past, sparking a conversation about life in this southern city.
Then we stumbled across a peanut roastery that turned out to be a bar in disguise. A hard iced tea, a local IPA, and a couple of new friends later, we were deeper into Birmingham with one mission: our first ever American football match. Not NFL, but the USL, Birmingham Legion FC.
On the way, we met a Louisiana transplant who told us why she’d built a new life here. Everyone we met seemed to love it. At the stadium, the differences to a Premier League ground were stark, smaller and quieter, but being able to drink a Twisted Tea in your seat while watching surprisingly good football was its own kind of magic.
Craving atmosphere, we joined the ultras. The chants, the drums, the passion, it all kicked in. And when the final whistle blew, we were stunned to find fans invited onto the pitch to thank the players. Pure class. Even better, we grabbed a quick chat with the manager, who, unbelievably, was from Birmingham, UK.
The city had everything a great one should: clean streets, packed bars, locals proud of their home, and none of the chaos people warned us about. Birmingham didn’t just surprise us, it won us over.
#usa #alabama #americaOur First Impressions of ALABAMA 🇺🇸 (Didnt Expect This)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-26 | 📍Mobile, Alabama, USA🇺🇸
Arriving in Mobile, Alabama, nothing looked the way people had warned us it would. The streets were clean and walkable, almost European in feel. Balconies draped with ironwork reminded us of New Orleans, and from one of them, a jazz band drifted down into the Monday sun. People sat outside with cold beers, restaurants spilled out onto the sidewalks, and for a moment it felt like the South was rewriting its own reputation right in front of us.
That night we stayed in a £50 roadside motel. Pulling in, we were nervous about what we’d find, but instead got a quiet surprise, a tidy room, clean sheets, and one of the best night’s sleep of the trip. Sometimes simple comforts mean the most.
The next day we went searching for something truly local and found ourselves at the Dew Drop Inn, Mobile’s oldest restaurant. A place with no pretension, just time-tested flavor. The hot dog arrived split down the middle, caramelized edges carrying the weight of decades of habit. The po-boy was dressed the old way, crunchy bread hugging soft fillings, built not for looks but for eating. It was the kind of food that tells a story about a city, a reminder that history lives on a plate.
Mobile had already surprised us, and with every step, bite, and sound, Alabama felt a little less like the cliché we’d been told to expect and more like a place we couldn’t wait to know better.
#usa #alabama #americaWe Found True Freedom In a Mississippi Houseboat Community 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-22 | 📍Mississippi, USA 🇺🇸
We started our Mississippi journey down in Biloxi, right on the Gulf Coast, where the beach stretches out in white sand and the air feels thick with salt. It’s a town tied closely to the military, with so many people here connected as spouses and families of those stationed nearby.
But we didn’t come for the casinos. We pushed inland, looking for something more Mississippi. At an old shingle mill, what looked like a closed building revealed itself to be a local bar. Inside, I sat with a Twisted Tea and swapped stories with a local about what life is really like here.
Out back, a man pulled his boat up to the dock, dogs in tow. To us, it looked like the dream, and he agreed. He spoke about his years in the Navy during the Cuban Missile Crisis, and what it means to retire onto the river. Not long after, another man from Alabama waved us over and invited us aboard his houseboat. He showed us the work he’s done by hand, no permits, no red tape. Just the freedom to build and live how he wants. Between talk of long days in the paper mill, dodging 14-foot gators, and his pride in DIY, it hit us how different this is to the bureaucracy we live with back home.
Here, real freedom still exists. And on the banks of the Mississippi, I think I fell in love with it.
#usa #mississippi#americaLets Talk About AMERICA 🇺🇸 (Get To Know Us LIVESTREAM)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-21 | 👋🏼 Support us! If you would like to further support our videos and travel, Support Us Via PayPal paypal.com/paypalme/jackaynsleytravel
#usa #louisiana #Mississippi #americaOur FIRST DAY in New Orleans Ended in Disaster 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-19 | 📍New Orleans, USA 🇺🇸
New Orleans is a city that lives and breathes rhythm. Jazz spilling out of corner bars, Creole kitchens perfuming the air with spices, and old shotgun houses leaning into each other like they’ve been swapping stories for a century. It’s a place where life moves to its own beat, wild, soulful, and just a little unpredictable.
We began our first day riding the public bus to Bywater, a neighborhood of colorful heritage homes and local joints that felt more like a film set than real life. We stumbled into The Joint, a BBQ spot serving up huge portions of smoked perfection for just $25. Creole food was meant to be tomorrow’s plan, so barbecue felt like the right warm-up.
Locals told us Vaughan’s was the spot for live music. We showed up hungry for brass, only to learn it only happens Tuesdays and Thursdays. With the itch for jazz still buzzing, we drifted to Frenchmen Street and ended up inside The Spotted Cat, surrounded by the best live jazz I’ve ever heard. Drinks in hand, music in our veins, and the rare freedom of an open container on the street, this was New Orleans in full swing.
Tipsy and curious, we braved Bourbon Street. We found a bar serving Twisted Tea, and inside stood a mechanical bull. I thought it’d be a laugh, sixty seconds of rodeo glory. Instead, it became the end of my front tooth. Rope wrapped around my hand, I fell face-first into the bull, tooth snapping clean in half.
Our next day was supposed to be Creole soul food and a riverboat dinner cruise. Instead, we drove to Gulfport, Mississippi, with half a tooth in my hand. A local dentist, Zimmerman Family Dentist, performed a miracle for just $300. Painful, humbling, but unforgettable.
Sometimes travel gives you jazz and barbecue. Sometimes it gives you a bull and a broken tooth. New Orleans gave us both
#usa #louisiana #americaOur First Time Trying CAJUN FOOD in Louisiana, USA 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-16 | 📍Louisiana, USA 🇺🇸
We rolled into Scott, Louisiana, the Boudin Capital of the World, without a clue what to order. Locals sent us to Billy’s Boudin and Cracklins, where the staff took twenty bucks and loaded us up with the classics: boudin balls, pepper jack-stuffed bites, smoky links, and still-crackling pork skin fresh from the fryer. We ate it off the hood of the car, grease on our fingers, spice on our lips, and flavors that felt like a punch and a hug at the same time.
From there, Louisiana kept opening its doors. Grilled gator in Scott. Homemade beignets pressed into our hands in Lafayette. Ten-foot gators drifting through the bayou like they owned the place. And Raceland, where a Cajun barlady, with the bayou behind her, shared her gourmet jerky while answering every question I could throw at her. I sipped a Twisted Tea, the sun sank into the water, and it felt like the state had truly revealed itself to us.
#usa #louisiana #americaDeep Inside The Last Town of TEXAS 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-09 | 📍Orange, Texas 🇺🇸
Welcome to Orange, Texas, the last stop before Louisiana, split only by a bayou. We rolled in hungry and headed to Bluebird Fish Camp, only to learn the owners had recently passed. A local struck up conversation, curious about the outsiders, and before long we were talking life on the river. He introduced me to James, tattooed head to toe, living completely off grid in a makeshift boathouse on the Sabine River.
James paddled me out in his canoe, showing me his world and a freshly caught gator gar, a prehistoric monster of a fish. No phone, no engine, no crew, just a man on the water, speaking with a warmth that would put most city folk to shame.
Back on shore, a 75-year-old named Brooks was waiting. He took us to the old boat landing to share the history of the burnt bridge between Texas and Louisiana, a relic of drug wars past. He and his 100-year-old father have seen it all here, but his stories carried more joy than bitterness.
A tip for Cajun food brought us to Kajuns for fried swordfish and shrimp, just enough fuel for a trip to Just One More Tavern, the last bar in Texas. Inside, bikers swapped tattoo stories and day drinkers traded laughs. Before we could pay, one of them quietly covered our tab.
This is small town America. This is Texas. Next stop, the bayou of Louisiana.
Maybe the friendliest megacity we’ve ever stepped foot in. Despite its size, Houston welcomed us like we were neighbours. We kicked things off with a stop at Buc-ee’s, Texas’ most outrageous roadside wonder. Over 100 gas pumps, an enormous store, hand-made jerky, and the famous brisket sandwich. Utterly overwhelming and completely worth it.
We based ourselves in The Heights, staying in an Airbnb (not the car this time) for just £60 a night. Wandering those idyllic American streets felt like walking through a movie set. Then we stumbled into Shiloh Bar, a proper local joint with dark wood, a pool table, and a jukebox. I poured two Twisted Teas into a pint glass and lined up yellow mystery shots to set the tone for the night.
Next stop was Pinkerton’s BBQ. Brisket, jalapeño sausage, pork ribs, all smoked to perfection and chased with a bourbon picked by one of the kindest bartenders we’ve ever met. Waco set the bar high, but this was right up there. Houston’s live music scene blew us away. At Dan Electro’s we caught a wild funk band and chatted with bartender Chase about all things Texas. He gave us answers, stories, and plenty of future recommendations.
Hungover and hungry, we made a pilgrimage to The Breakfast Klub. Black-owned and a local legend for over two decades, serving up southern staples with soul. We left full of food and with a hug from the host that hit harder than the coffee. Houston gave us small-town love in one of America’s biggest cities.
#usa #texas #americaWe Found TRUE Southern Hospitality in Waco, TEXAS 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-03 | 📍Waco, Texas 🇺🇸
A town we barely knew, and now won’t forget. We came for barbecue and found something much more. At a little spot called Chute 4 Rodeo BBQ (2525 Robinson Dr, Waco, TX 76706), we met a Vietnam War veteran and retired rodeo bull rider who now spends his days tending to ribs and brisket with quiet pride. The kind of pitmaster who’ll pull up a chair, talk life for an hour while you eat, then walk you out back to show you the smoker that’s seasoned with stories. He sent us off with full bellies and two free t-shirts. The warmth of that man was real. Visceral. Like Texas itself.
Later, we took that warmth with us into downtown Waco for a Saturday night out. Our first real taste of the American bar scene, Backyard, Sam’s for $5 margaritas, then the crown jewel of Waco nightlife: True Love bar. Fueled by Twisted Teas and bourbon confidence, I got up and butchered a Charley Crockett tune in front of a room of strangers. Nobody booed. That’s Texas for you.
We’re loving it here. The heat’s intense, but the people are warmer still. Can’t wait to see what’s next.
#usa #texas #americaOur First 24 Hours in TEXAS Surprised Us 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-08-02 | 📍Texas, USA 🇺🇸
We’ve officially landed in Texas to begin our Deep South road trip, and wow, what a start.
Flying into Dallas, we were immediately hit with the heat, the sheer size of the airport, and those famously massive American highways. We picked up our hire car, which will be our home on wheels for the next two months, and headed straight into the Texan countryside on a mission to reach Waco.
On the way, hunger kicked in... and then we saw it. A giant orange and white building that looked straight out of a children’s cartoon. Whataburger. Texas’s proud rival to In-N-Out. I tried it. I loved it. Even better, we met our first Texans inside, friendly, welcoming, and full of charm.
Next stop? Walmart. But not just any Walmart. This experience genuinely changed our lives. One aisle it’s apples and toothpaste, the next aisle it’s rifles and shotguns. We had no idea where to start, but we had to get the car kitted out for sleeping, or so we thought...
We made it to Lake Waco just in time for the hottest, sweatiest, most uncomfortable night’s sleep of our lives. No fan. No AC. Just us, the car, and 35-degree heat. Lesson learned. In the morning, desperate for caffeine and relief, we headed into Waco to visit For Keeps Coffee, a promise kept after meeting the owner’s parents in Italy. The coffee was brilliant, but the real highlight was chatting with Hudson and Brooks, two locals who gave us a proper Waco welcome.
We finished our day with a wander through a quiet Waco neighbourhood where people wave, smile, and say things like “yes sir” and “yes ma’am.” We’re falling in love with this place already.
Part 2 coming soon. Subscribe so you don’t miss it.
#usa #texas #americaDeep Inside Los Angeles, USA 🇺🇸 (What Its Really Like)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-07-29 | 📍Los Angeles, California 🇺🇸
Los Angeles is the kind of place people dream about. The kind of place they’ll fight to stay in, even when the odds are stacked. You can feel it in the air, that mix of ocean breeze, ambition, and heartbreak. It’s not an easy city, but it’s a beautiful one. And when you see it with your own eyes, you understand what people are holding on for.
We started in Santa Monica, walking along 3rd Street Promenade where palm trees sway above clean, walkable streets and the sun always seems to hit just right. We met a smiling local police officer and spotted traces of home, British pubs, tea shops, and even a woman from Hull who’s been here for 40 years. She told us how Santa Monica has changed over the decades, how it’s grown, how it’s struggled.
Outside, a woman shared her story with us. Raised in Venice, now priced out of it. She lives in her vehicle after being asked for $16,000 just to move into a one-bedroom apartment in the neighborhood she calls home. It was a reminder that beauty here can be bittersweet. The promenade looked pristine, but the shuttered storefronts told a different story, one of rising rents and hard decisions.
We stopped for a glass of Californian red wine on Ocean Avenue, then wandered down to Santa Monica Pier. The beach was everything you hope California might be. That golden light, the buzz of the boardwalk, the steady rhythm of the waves. We chatted with a Chinese woman about life in the States and tried our luck at the outdoor gym near Muscle Beach.
In the afternoon, we made our way to Venice, where we found ourselves at Hinano Cafe, a classic beachside dive bar known for its cold beers and smash burgers. Miguel and Miguel were working behind the counter. Good blokes, working 62-hour weeks just to keep a roof over their head. And yet, they said they wouldn’t change a thing.
Los Angeles isn’t just a place. It’s an idea. A feeling. From Venice Beach to Santa Monica, Ocean Park to the Pacific Coast Highway, it wraps you up in sunshine and possibility. And even when it’s slipping from your fingers, you can’t help but reach for it.
We love LA. Just like we love our home in Newcastle. Two cities on opposite sides of the world, tied together by the people who refuse to give up on them.
#losangeles #usa #usatravelBritish Couples First Impressions of The USA 🇺🇸Jack Aynsley Travel2025-07-25 | 📍Los Angeles, United States 🇺🇸
The USA was nothing like we thought it would be..
This is the start of our dream trip through America, beginning in California before driving deep into the South. A journey I’ve wanted to take for years.
📲 Getting a local number while travelling makes life easier. I’m using a SimLocal esim, and you can save with my code: JackAynsley tidd.ly/4o7XKpH
We started in London Gatwick, spending three hours in the No 1 Lounge drinking bourbon at 9am. Soft chairs, a quiet bar and that warm pre-trip buzz made the wait feel like part of the adventure. (Save 10% on NO1 Lounges with code: NO1SUMMERJACK)
Then came the world’s cheapest long-haul flight, £200 with Norse Airlines, twelve and a half hours to Los Angeles with no food, no drinks and no online check-in. But somewhere over Greenland’s frozen mountains and the sharp ridges of Yosemite, the cheap flight felt like a privilege.
Our good friend Bret was waiting at LAX, grinning, the kind of welcome you only get from someone who loves where they live. He took us straight for our first In-N-Out experience, and it was everything we’d hoped for, huge and full of flavour. Then came Target, where the sheer scale of everything was absurd, shelves stacked high like they were made for a different species. We grabbed a few things for the 4th of July and headed to Bret’s home in San Pedro.
It wasn’t what I expected. The air felt soft, the streets calm and no one blinked at a camera in hand. Cabrillo Beach was spotless, the free-to-use BBQ grills smoking with ribs and burgers, families sitting under umbrellas laughing in the sun. We ended the night with great pizza, more bourbon and fireworks cracking over the Pacific.
If this is day one, we’re in for something special.
48 hours in Rome, and nothing went the way we planned, which somehow made it perfect.
The trip started in chaos. An earthquake near Naples and wildfires across the countryside had shut down trains, leaving the airport in complete disarray. Instead of wasting hours in queues, we walked along highways, jumped on local buses, and ended up in tiny towns outside Rome that no guidebook even mentions. Sitting with locals, sipping a bitter Aperol spritz, it already felt like the real Italy, even before we reached the city.
When we finally made it into Rome, it was everything you dream it will be. Thanks to Klook, we skipped the endless queues at the big attractions, straight into the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel, straight into the Colosseum. No sweating for hours in line.
But the highlight? A boozy cooking class called Rome With Chef, booked through Klook. Local chef Sunny Milano taught us how to make proper Roman carbonara and tiramisu, hands-on, glass of wine in hand, laughing with a small group of people who felt like old friends by the end. The food was incredible, and it felt like we’d been welcomed into someone’s home rather than a class.
Rome can feel overwhelming in summer, but if you do it right, you can dodge the chaos, eat well, and find those little moments that make it unforgettable.
This was two days of history, food, wine, and a bit of madness, and we loved every second of it.
#rome #italy #italytravelSearching For The REAL Britain in London 🇬🇧Jack Aynsley Travel2025-07-15 | 📍London, United Kingdom 🇬🇧
After six months abroad, we finally landed back on British soil. The immigration officer wasn’t thrilled about my passport stamps from Pakistan, India, and Bangladesh. A raised eyebrow, a few too many questions, but eventually we were waved through.
We took the train from Gatwick to Victoria and arrived just in time for golden hour, the skyline stretching out in front of us: the Tower of London, the Shard, and the dense, glassy sprawl of modern Britain. We checked into a £25-a-night hostel called Wombat’s. We’d expected the worst, but it turned out better than alright. Clean bed, quiet sleep.
The next morning started with strong coffee from Black Sheep before heading to Borough Market, one of London’s true treasures. A patchwork of smells and voices, where the world’s flavours meet. We drank vermouth at 9am at a little Spanish tapas place, had oysters and champagne at Richard Haward’s stall, then tucked into empanadas and Malbec from Porteña next door.
Later, wandering the Thames, we met a guy who left Wellington for London and never looked back. Not all Londoners are cold. Sometimes you just have to say hello.
We crossed the Millennium Bridge, the kind of place that stops you in your tracks. At the other end stood St Paul’s, proud and dignified. A reminder of what this country can build.
Leave Britain for a while. Travel through the developing world, see life without clean water, working infrastructure, or public safety nets. Then come home, pour a glass of water from the tap, and look around. The architecture, the markets, the food, the culture, the Union Jack flying over Regent Street, it's all worth something.
#london #unitedkingdom #britainFirst Impressions of Budapest, Hungary 🇭🇺 (Didnt Expect This)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-07-13 | 📍Budapest, Hungary 🇭🇺
We landed in Budapest and were immediately impressed. The airport was spotless, modern, and efficient. What really struck us though was the silence. Public transport here is quiet, calm, and respectful. On the metro, buses, and trams, nobody shouts. Nobody barges. It reminded us of Japan.
After six months away from Europe, arriving here hit hard. The architecture, the walkable streets, the alfresco cafés and bars made us emotional. Budapest is a reminder of everything that makes Europe great.
We checked into Maverick Hostel for just £15 a night. It was excellent. Loads going on, lovely staff, and when it came time to sleep, total silence.
That night we headed to the 7th District to explore the legendary Ruin Bars. Dozens of them, all hidden in crumbling buildings, each one buzzing with energy. Hungarian wines, sausage platters, meat boards stacked high. We chatted with strangers from all over the world. Inside, it’s magic. Just keep your wits about you when walking in. A few shady characters linger outside.
The next morning came with a hangover. Fresh pastries and strong coffee brought us back to life. We walked along the Danube, marvelling at Budapest’s grand buildings, and happened upon a flag-raising ceremony. They raised it with pride, and rightly so.
Later, we wandered into the Central Market for some much-needed hair of the dog. Wine and beer before noon. We tried goose crackling. Interesting, but absolutely dripping in fat. We picked up some kabonosi and bought a magnet for my grandma.
Budapest isn’t just worth the hype. It’s even better than we imagined.
We took the cheapest possible route from Bangkok to Europe. First leg: Bangkok to Shanghai on Shanghai Airlines. Sounds simple, but the transit desk was closed, which meant leaving the airport, officially entering China, and finding a place to sleep. We ended up in a nearby hotel for just £18 a night. Nothing fancy, but the staff made us feel like family. They cooked my noodles, handed us free bottles of water, and even carried the food up to our room.
A late-night chat with a local guy about noodles turned into one of those quiet, human moments you don’t expect to find when you’re just trying to get to the next flight.
Next up: the shortest flight we’ve ever taken: Shanghai to Ningbo, just 24 minutes in the air, on a Dreamliner. Then came the big one: Ningbo to Budapest, 12 hours of movies, meals, and drifting in and out of sleep.
We reviewed every flight. All in, it was a 29-hour journey across continents—and somehow, it didn’t feel like a waste of time at all.
#chinaeastern #bangkok #shanghaiDeep Into Thailands Most Hospitable Region 🇹🇭Jack Aynsley Travel2025-07-04 | 📍Chanthaburi, Thailand 🇹🇭
Thailand has given me a lot over the years. Good food, good people, good chaos. But Chanthaburi hit different.
It’s a small town with no show to put on. No need to. People have time here. Time to stop, smile, ask if you need anything. Time to hand you a cold bottle of water from their own fridge, just because you showed up unprepared.
I wandered the streets with no plan and stumbled into the kind of restaurant that doesn’t have a name, let alone a website. Plastic chairs, clinking plates, fans rattling overhead. I ordered tom yum prawns with rice noodles, extra spicy. It wasn’t just a good meal. It was the best I’ve had in six trips to Thailand. Every bite hit like it had something to prove.
Later, I took a Grab motorbike out to a waterfall deep in the jungle. Before I could pay for a ticket, the guy at the gate told me the truth. Rain’s been light. Not much to see. Still, I went. Thick heat, green silence, a trail that felt like walking through a dream. But before I started, I realised I had no water. I asked if I could buy some. He said he didn’t sell any, then quietly handed me his own bottle from the fridge.
On the way back, there were no Grab bikes available. I tried hitchhiking. Took less than five minutes before a group of college students pulled over and gave me a lift back to town, laughing the whole way.
Chanthaburi isn’t a secret, but it feels like one. A place that reminds you travel isn’t always about ticking boxes or chasing views. Sometimes it’s about sitting down in the right plastic chair, at the right table, in a town that still remembers how to be human.
#thailand #thaifood #chanthaburiTravelling Through Thailand the Old School Way 🇹🇭Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-27 | 📍Chanthaburi, Thailand 🇹🇭
Left Koh Samet with salt on our skin and the sea still in our heads. Grabbed one last coffee on the walk to the pier, dreaming of sipping it on a breezy ride back to the mainland. Instead, we paid for our earlier cheapness. While everyone else boarded their shiny speedboats, we waited two hours in the industrial end of the port for our old fishing boat to appear. When it did, the waves weren’t kind. We swayed across the sea like laundry on a line.
On land, needing comfort, we turned to the holy trinity of the Japanese convenience store lunch: Pocari Sweat, onigiri, and a soft-boiled onsen egg. Sat on the pavement outside and ate it the proper way. No chairs, no cutlery, just salt, sweat and silence.
Then came the bus. Grabbed a ride to the station hoping for a smooth hop to Chanthaburi. Of course not. Forty minutes became an hour in the heat, and when the bus arrived we scored the worst seats in the house, bouncing over every pothole this side of the Mekong. Paige caught a trapped nerve. I was just counting the minutes to freedom.
But then, Thailand did what Thailand always does. The homestay host was waiting for us at the station with the kind of warmth that makes you forget the last five hours. @SkintNortherners didn’t miss with this one. Baan Rao Na Chan in Chanthaburi was an oasis. (facebook.com/baanraonachan) Garden, cats, calm. Some of the kindest people we’ve ever met.
While Paige nursed her back, I wandered out and found a roadside spot, nothing fancy, no English menu. I ordered in butchered Thai and was handed a plate of crispy pork so perfect it made me question everything. Sometimes, a good meal is the only therapy you need.
Thanks for tagging along. Can’t wait to show you Chanthaburi in the daylight.
#Chanthaburi #thailand #thailandtravelFull Day Exploring KOH SAMET 🇹🇭 Thailands Best Island?Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-24 | 📍Koh Samet, Thailand 🇹🇭
Started the day in a place that didn’t feel like Thailand. A European-style plaza in the centre of Koh Samet’s main town, cobblestone roads, a roundabout, the kind of quiet charm you don’t expect on a Thai island. Rumour had it there were no ATMs here, but a fresh one had just been installed off the square. Island progress.
Toured the high street, dotted with mellow bars, shops and sleepy restaurants, but we were hunting coffee. Life Bouy was closed, until we knocked. The owner rolled out of bed and opened up just for us. That’s the kind of island this is. No rush. No schedule. Just real people, slow mornings, and a hand-pressed espresso machine I’d never seen in my life. Incredible coffee.
Lunch was one of those no-frills, under-a-tarp joints that serve food better than most five-stars. Garlic prawns. Pad kra pao. Rich, salty, beautiful. We hit the road again, songthaew-style, and landed on Wong Duean Beach. Family spot. Nice enough. But then I saw it, the words “Jack Daniels” on a wooden sign. That’s where we were headed.
A bar on the sand, cold Leo in one hand, Jack on the rocks in the other, waves lapping a few metres away. Camping chairs pulled from a shed. Then came the storm, thunder over the bay, wind in the palms, and us huddled under a tin roof, still sipping, still smiling.
When it passed, we rode to Ao Prao Beach. Coco Beach Club. Negronis, Singapore Slings, and the sea calling us off the jetty. One dive turned into many. I tried a backflip, naturally. Sliced my thigh on something sharp and invisible. Didn’t matter. That sting in the saltwater? That’s my Thailand tattoo now. We raised a glass, let the sunset hit, and toasted goodbye to the islands the way they’re meant to be seen, calm, wild, and gloriously unpredictable.
We started the day chasing ghosts. Google said a bus would come. It didn’t. Just sweat, sun, and the kind of silence that tells you you’ve been had. Pattaya was cooking at 38°C, no clouds, no breeze, just a bag of peas between us and passing out. Terminal 21 wasn’t a terminal. It was just the name of a mall. Welcome to the grind.
After dead ends and false promises, we found a songthaew driver with a heart. Said he knew a spot for a minibus to Rayong. That bus was long gone too. Another lead. Another maybe. Eventually, a battered Toyota Hiace rolled up like a gift from the gods. We climbed in, starving, hopeful, wrecked.
In Rayong, the driver didn’t just dump us. He walked us to the next desk. Class act. Ban Phe was up next. But first, fried chicken straight from the oil, served on a street corner by a woman who didn’t smile but damn could she fry. The kind of food that makes your fingers burn and your soul feel alright. At Ban Phe pier, things got strange again. No crowds. No signs. Just a quiet fishing boat that doubled as a ferry. We boarded via the roof, climbing across metal sheets and sliding down a bench. No life jackets. No questions. Just the sound of ropes creaking and sea air cutting through the noise in your head. Thirty minutes later, we landed on Koh Samet. No touts. No scams. Just the hum of mopeds and the smell of salt and sunscreen. Found our bungalow, £32 a night, one step from the beach. Basic. Beautiful. Exactly enough.
On the boat, we’d met a Thai guy who lives in Florida. Said to meet him at Naga Bar. So we did. Jack Daniels over ice. Sunset. New friend. No plans. Just the end of a long day that reminded us why we do this.
#thailand #thailandtravel #kohsametI Took My Wife on Holiday to PATTAYA, Thailand... 🇹🇭Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-20 | 📍Pattaya, Thailand 🇹🇭
Pattaya - the name alone stirs something in people. Usually suspicion, maybe even disgust. But is it really that bad?
I brought my wife. A test, maybe. Or just curiosity. We checked into a £20-a-night apartment with a view most places would charge triple for. I got a haircut from a kind Thai woman who worked with precision and pride. I tipped her well. She smiled and gave us a big hug.
The beach surprised us. Clean, well-kept, no signs of the chaos you’d expect. No stumbling Brits in football shirts. No echo of Benidorm’s worst instincts. Just sea, sand, and people getting on with their lives. Then cocktails. A Caipiroska and a Margarita. Mixed in the back of a converted VW campervan. The kind of odd little gem you don’t find unless you’re really looking.
A buzz set in. We wandered to a Tuscan restaurant perched on the edge of the sea. Oysters, wild boar ragù, four cheese gnocchi. A litre of red. Italian Merlot, deep and smoky. It felt like we were cheating the system. Living well for less.
And then… Soi 6.
A street soaked in neon and stories. Every bar has a thousand secrets, and most of them are for sale. The mood shifted. Something happened. Not dramatic, but enough. Time to go.
#Pattaya #thailand #Travel£3 Minibus Journey to Thailands Sin City 🇹🇭 (Bangkok to Pattaya)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-18 | 📍Pattaya, Thailand 🇹🇭
It was a beautiful morning in Bangkok. We hopped on a local bus headed to the big terminal, chasing a ride to Pattaya.
Stopped for coffee at the first café we saw. Bad move. By the time we realised it was £7 for two basic coffees, they were already made. No time to argue. Tasted amazing, to be fair.
Tried to grab seats on the big 36-seater to Pattaya. Sold out right as we reached the front. No big deal, there’s a minibus for 50p more. We queue up again. Sold out again.
We thought we’d be waiting an hour, but the next one was only ten minutes later. Just enough time for a toilet stop and to fend off a Chinese guy who tried to cut the queue. I shouted at him in Chinese. Not sure if he backed off because I was firm or because he was shocked a white guy was speaking Dongbei dialect. We were rushed onto the minibus. No outside drinks allowed. Had to slam the rest of that £7 coffee in two gulps. Fuming.
The ride? Tight. Toyota Hiace with barely a breath of legroom. Two hours in, we stopped in the countryside to stretch our legs. The sky cracked open with thunder and lightning, and we scrambled back inside. Eventually, we arrived in Pattaya. Forty-minute walk to the apartment, bags in hand, streets buzzing. We stopped halfway at a proper working-class restaurant, plastic tables under an awning, living room in the back. I asked for Pad See Ew. Not on the menu, but the woman knew what I meant. She made it. It was unreal. Finally made it to our £20-a-night apartment. We expected the worst. Instead, we got a full flat — living room, bedroom, bathroom, kitchen-diner with a balcony. On the 33rd floor. Rooftop pool. Proper gym. Sin City or not, Pattaya was off to a great start.
#Bangkok #Pattaya #thailandGetting Drunk in Thailands Best Night Market 🇹🇭Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-14 | 📍Bangkok, Thailand 🇹🇭
Bangkok after dark, the way it should be.
We went to Srinagarindra Train Night Market, a proper local hangout just outside the city, the kind of place where things still feel real.
It started with food. Always does. Fried chicken hot from the pan, giant fresh oysters loaded with Thai spice mix, and salmon sashimi dressed in homemade fish sauce, crispy shallots and coriander. Flavours sharp enough to wake you up, spice that stays with you. We grabbed grape soju from a street vendor. Drank two. Then found a bar hidden inside an antique shop, vintage clothes, classic cars, and the biggest pour of Jack Daniels I’ve ever seen. The night rolled on. Chicken skin, chargrilled meat, more soju. Met some Chinese travellers, switched to Mandarin. Met some Japanese folks, did the same in Japanese. Language barriers didn’t matter. Everyone was smiling. This market is everything Bangkok does best. Loud, smoky, full of life. The food, the drink, the energy. And the people, friendly in that effortless Thai way, always making room for one more.
We ended the night with more soju, a Jack Daniels t-shirt we didn’t need, and memories we’ll be piecing together in the morning. This is the best night market in Bangkok. No question. Ask a local, a real Khon Krung, they’ll tell you the same.
Market location: https://g.co/kgs/3jd7Pxe (Twei Zaap Is the Best Food There)
#bangkok #thailand #streetfoodWe had to leave Bangladesh... 🇧🇩 (heres why)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-12 | 📍Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩
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The airport was packed. Leaving Dhaka wasn’t easy. That city got under our skin, the chaos, the kindness, the stories. Saying goodbye felt heavier than expected.
No security at the entrance, just a slow-moving queue and the buzz of people going everywhere. But inside, each boarding gate had its own security check, something we hadn’t seen before. Oddly efficient. Kind of cool.
We flew Thai Airways to Bangkok. Smooth flight, great crew, proper food. There was a delay, but they handled it well. Landed in Thailand for the sixth time, and it still hits with that same jolt of energy. Hard to believe our first trip here was back in 2018, fresh-faced and twenty, no clue what we were doing.
Grabbed a ride straight to our hotel, £60 a night at Maison Hotel. We hadn’t clocked the area. Nana. One of Bangkok’s seedier corners. The kind of place where every second person’s over 60 and not here for temples.
We ducked into the only place that looked remotely normal, a British pub. And there she was, the waitress in a Newcastle United shirt, smiling like she knew what we needed.
She brought out a homemade Pad Kra Pao that nearly brought tears to the eyes. Perfect spice, perfect flavour. The chef was Thai, of course. English bar or not, the man knew what he was doing.
A few cold Jack Daniels on the rocks later, we called it. Back to the room. Back to reality.
Tomorrow, we move areas. Bangkok’s massive. We’ll find our spot.
#bangladesh #travel #thailandThe MODERN Side of Dhaka You Never See 🇧🇩Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-09 | Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Our last day in Dhaka. We wandered through Banani, the modern face of the city. Glass towers, clean pavements, the kind of place where things move a little slower, a little quieter.
In a side street, we found a group of lads playing football. Office workers blowing off steam after a long day. They spotted me, waved me in. I hesitated, nowhere to leave my camera or phone. One of them, a complete stranger, offered his bag. Said I could trust him. And I did.
We played. I was terrible. The pitch was sand and I was wearing hiking boots, slipping, sliding, missing every pass. Nobody cared. Just laughter, sweat, and shared language carved out of the game itself.
Afterward, he handed me back my things without a second thought. No questions. No hesitation. Just honesty. That kind of thing stays with you.
I said, let’s get some cold ones. Took them to Coal & Coffee, a rooftop spot high above the city. Fancy iced teas, lemon and peach, clinking glasses as we looked out over Dhaka’s financial district. Glass and steel lit up against the evening sky.
We sat there for a long time. A language barrier, sure, but football filled the gaps. We talked, we laughed, we said we’d keep in touch. And I believe we will.
Dhaka gave us chaos and beauty, heat and confusion, but most of all it gave us people. Real ones. The kind you don’t forget.
#bangladesh #dhaka #travelDont Do This In Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩 (Big Mistake)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-06-06 | 📍Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩
The plan was Sylhet. A train, a quiet ride, a change of pace. But the day had other ideas.
Running late, we flagged down a rickshaw and asked for the train station. Lots of traffic, no time to spare. He took us to the metro instead. Probably our fault. Wrong words, wrong place. By the time we reached the actual railway station, we had ninety seconds to spare.
It didn’t matter. The train was sold out. Should have booked in advance. Rookie mistake. This isn’t India or Pakistan, where you can talk your way on board or sort it out once you're moving. In Bangladesh, you book it early or you don’t go.
They offered Chittagong instead, tonight’s train. We said we’d think about it. Took ten minutes. Came back ready. Too late. Sold out again.
So we weren’t leaving Dhaka.
We grabbed cold drinks and stood in the shade, laughing because sometimes that’s all you can do. We needed coffee. Found a shop, but no seats, no tables, takeaway only. Of course. But the coffee? Exceptional. Genuinely brilliant.
We wandered through a local market. Bargained for a Brazil football shirt by pretending to be Brazilian, piecing together what little Portuguese we had. Somehow it worked. One pound well spent. Then we found a rickshaw driver who looked exactly like Joelinton from Newcastle, same grin, same energy. It helped.
We ended the day with mutton kacchi again. The kind of food that makes the bad parts fade. Warm, rich, real.
Some days just don’t go your way. But if you’re lucky, you still end up with good coffee, great food, and a story to tell.
Old Dhaka doesn’t waste time. One moment you’re weaving through traffic, the next you’re in the thick of it, surrounded by steam, shouting, and the smell of something incredible on the griddle.
We started the day with a street snack that looked like a fluffy pancake, made from rice flour and served by a mother and daughter working shoulder to shoulder. On the side, a brutal lineup of chutneys. Each one hotter than the last. I had them all. Crazy hot. Crazy good.
We climbed into one of the new electric-assisted cycle rickshaws, a modern twist on an old idea. The driver sang traditional songs a cappella, weaving through alleys with surprising grace, until he didn’t. He clipped the back of another rickshaw and I was launched forward, arms flailing, landing hard but laughing. He grinned, shrugged, and motioned that it was my own fault for not holding on. He was right.
We made our way to a massive fabric market, the source of materials that end up in shops like Primark and Marks & Spencer. Piles of cloth stacked high, sold by the meter for the equivalent of a pound. Industrial beauty, stitched with stories.
Down by the river, the ghats were alive. Dozens of boatmen called out to us, eager to row. One man stood out. Calm, ginger-dyed beard, a quiet smile. We picked him. He rowed us into the sunset, past giant diesel ferries coughing up black smoke, the river calm and golden under the sky.
He dropped us at the far bank, a rusted-out shipyard left behind by time. Kids climbed the anchor ropes like a jungle gym. I joined them. Nearby, someone welded in the shadows while a group of boys played cricket. I borrowed a bat, swung hard, hit a six, then a four. Felt like a local for a second.
We rode back across the river as the light faded. A day full of heat, humour, and humanity. Dhaka might be madness, but it’s the kind that gets under your skin in all the right ways.
#bangladesh #dhaka #travelBritish Couples First Impressions of Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-31 | 📍Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Our first full day in Dhaka. First impressions hit hard, as they always do in cities like this. Noise, heat, life, unfiltered and impossible to ignore.
Breakfast came from a street cart. Samosas, deep-fried and golden, stuffed with potatoes and heat. Spicy enough to make you blink. Eaten standing up, surrounded by the thrum of a city already wide awake.
We found a coffee shop called Crimson Coffee, quiet and cool inside. A brief pause, a good cup, the calm before another storm.
We tried to grab a rickshaw to Old Dhaka, but the language barrier turned the trip into a comedy of errors. Then came a stranger with perfect English and perfect timing, who sorted everything with a smile and a wave, then disappeared into the crowd like it was nothing.
Old Dhaka is a city within a city, tangled in time. We visited a Mughal-era tomb, where the past still lingers in the walls. Friendly faces everywhere, endless questions, endless welcomes. Then came the twist, a whispered offer, a side door, and suddenly we were being shown underground escape tunnels beneath the city, off-limits and half-forgotten. Dhaka has layers. Some of them don’t show up on maps.
Later, we stepped back into the streets, louder, hotter, more alive than before. Markets spilling into alleys, people everywhere, horns, dust, colour, movement. The kind of chaos that reminds you you're alive.
Dhaka doesn’t hold back. And on day one, it already had us hooked.
#bangladesh #dhaka #travelCrazy First Arrival into Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-27 | 📍 Dhaka, Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Leaving India was supposed to be simple. It never is. We flew out of Delhi Terminal 3, but first had to chase down USD, $51 per person, supposedly required for Bangladesh’s visa on arrival. A dozen money counters, contradictory rules, blank stares, and finally, crisp notes in hand.
We made it through, barely, and grabbed what was optimistically called an English breakfast at an Irish bar. Dry eggs, grey sausage, and a deep existential regret. But the double Jim Beam on the rocks at 9 a.m.? That hit the mark.
The Air India flight to Dhaka was smooth, calm, oddly serene for what was waiting on the other end.
Immigration in Bangladesh was a maze of paperwork and polite interrogation. We didn’t actually need the $51 in cash, card would’ve done just fine. But try telling that to a counter full of bureaucracy and shrugging men in uniform. Hotel reservations had to be printed. Forms double-stamped. Eyes watching everything. Eventually, we made it out.
Outside, Dhaka hit like a brick wall. Dense, loud, alive. We bargained hard for a taxi to Kackrail Road and jumped headfirst into the chaos. Walking those first streets felt like crossing into another version of reality. Dust, horns, movement, colour, energy.
We took shelter in Grand Plaza Hotel, £40 a night, clean, cool, a little pocket of peace above the madness.
Hungry and curious, we asked a security guard on the street what his favorite food was. He didn’t hesitate. Kachi Bhai, he said. Gave us directions like it was sacred.
So we followed them. We sat down. We ate mutton kachi for the first time. Aromatic, rich, slow-cooked to the bone. Maybe better than biryani. Probably is.
Bangladesh didn’t ease us in. But it rewarded us. You just have to lean into the madness.
#bangladesh #dhaka #travelWe Found Heaven on Earth in India 🇮🇳Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-19 | Patnem Beach, Palolem Beach & Angonda Beach.
We journey into heaven on earth, that is Goa, India. The most intense greenery I have ever seen, dense jungle forests, and beautiful beaches full of life. It really is incredible. Of course we finished the night with our new favourite ever Indian meal, Chicken Vindaloo.
#india #indianfood #indiatravel$0.80 Local Bus to Indian Paradise 🇮🇳Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-16 | 📍Goa, India
Leaving Vasco da Gama didn’t go quite to plan. We missed the bus before we even found the right stand, so we killed time the best way possible, with a clean shave from a kind, meticulous barber in a little pink shop that felt frozen in time.
Back at the bus depot, we had to interrupt the ticket guy mid-watch, locked into an Alan Shearer best goals compilation, to get our seats on the 1:30 to Margao.
The ride was worth it. A non-AC state bus rolling through some of the most beautiful parts of Goa. Jungle thick and green, colorful Portuguese cathedrals rising from the roadside, small towns drifting by like something out of a half-remembered dream.
From Margao, we caught a colder, more cramped ride south to Canacona. An AC bus that felt more like a meat locker, packed tight, but it got us there.
We wandered Canacona’s quiet streets and flagged down a rickshaw, 150 rupees down the winding roads, the palm trees swaying, the air heavy with salt.
And then, finally, Patnem Beach.
We checked into a simple beach bungalow at RoundCube, £18 a night, just steps from the sea. Dropped our bags and ran into the waves. They were massive, tossing us like driftwood, until a riptide kicked up and we got out while it was still fun.
As the sky turned gold, we strolled the beach. Drum circles, small beach bars, people sitting barefoot with sandy legs and cold drinks in hand. We joined them. Several Jack Daniels on the rocks later, I tried my first ever vindaloo, the real Goan kind. Hot, sour, full of character, easily the best curry I’ve ever had.
We finished the night the same way we started it, wandering slowly, a little lost, but exactly where we were supposed to be.
🛒 If you want to see our Amazon must-haves click the link below! amazon.co.uk/shop/jackaynsleytravel #india #indianfood #indiatravelBritish Couples First Impressions of Goa, India 🇮🇳Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-12 | 📍 Goa, India 🇮🇳
We left Delhi behind on an afternoon IndiGo flight—Terminal 2 humming with its usual chaos, horns blaring even as we boarded. A couple hours later, we landed in Goa. Same country, different planet.
Vasco da Gama greeted us with heavy air and swaying palms, and something we hadn’t felt in days: calm. Even the taxi stand ran on logic. Fixed prices, no shouting, no swarm of men chasing you down—just a board, a number, and a guy who meant business.
The drive was slow, quiet. Goa reveals itself in layers—faded signs, salt in the air, the occasional cow minding its own on the roadside. We checked into HQ Hotel, a straightforward room above a quiet street. Clean sheets, working fan, nothing fancy—but a good place to disappear for a night or two.
Then came the food.
We found Jai Hind, a proper no-nonsense Goan joint. Tile floors, fluorescent lights, and a menu that didn’t care if you were passing through or local. I ordered Chicken Cafreal—a green masala bomb of garlic, coriander, and vinegar. Paige went for the prawn thali—rice, dal, curry, chutney, a little bit of everything on a steel tray that somehow made perfect sense.
We sat for a while, soaking it in. A small TV crackled in the corner with IPL commentary, the room buzzing with slow conversation and the clink of steel plates. Cold drinks, full stomachs, and a quiet satisfaction.
Goa isn’t trying to impress you. It just is. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.
#india #goa #indiatravelWe Camped at Japan’s Incredible Mt Fuji Lake 🇯🇵 (Japan Road Trip)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-08 | Mt Fuji, Japan 🇯🇵
We Hit the Road in Japan: Van Life to Mount Fuji Leaving Shizuoka in our Toyota Hiace camper van, we set off along Route 1, Japan’s historic coastal road, in search of something slower, quieter, and older than the bright lights of Tokyo. This journey took us through beautifully preserved countryside towns, past retro shopfronts and vending machines older than we are, and finally to Lake Motosu, the iconic spot featured on the 1000 yen note, one of the most scenic Mount Fuji camping spots in Japan.
We wild camped with a view of Fuji, cooked over fire, and watched the sunset reflect off the water with a glass of whiskey in hand. This is van life in Japan, but not the version you usually see.
Join us as we explore Japan by camper van, discover hidden Fuji lakeside campsites, and experience the nostalgic charm of rural Japanese travel, a side of the country that still runs on rhythm, routine, and quiet beauty.
0:00 How to Camp for Free in Japan 3:23 Cute Ghibli Village in Real Life 5:13 Steak and Eggs a Japanese Carpark 11:03 Hiking to Secret Mount Fuji Viewpoint 15:43 How to roadtrip Japan 21:00 Incredible Mount Fuji Campsite
#japan #fuji #japantravelYou Never See This Side of Osaka, Japan 🇯🇵Jack Aynsley Travel2025-05-02 | Osaka, off the map. No neon. No crowds. Just the soft hum of a quiet evening and the kind of peace you don’t usually associate with a city this size.
We started the night in a tucked-away izakaya, small, dimly lit, with plum wine poured gently into short glasses. Sweet, sharp, and calming. The kind of place where conversations drift rather than shout.
Then we walked. Through calm, residential streets. No tourist traps, no queues, just the stillness of real life unfolding in alleyways and fading daylight. Laundry swayed gently on balconies. A cat crossed the road like it owned the whole neighborhood. The city, finally at ease.
We ended the night with a bowl of pork ramen from Kamakura, rich, salty, deep. The broth? Pure oishii. One of those meals that doesn’t need a review—it just needs silence and a slow nod.
Not every day in Japan needs to be loud. Sometimes the quiet ones are the ones that stay with you.
#japan #osaka #japantravelTaking Japans 350km/h Bullet Train to Osaka 🇯🇵 (Japans Nightlife Capital)Jack Aynsley Travel2025-04-26 | 📍 Osaka, Japan 🇯🇵
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Come with us as we show you a part of our second home, Japan.
We boarded the Shinkansen from Nagoya to Osaka, armed the way you should be, onigiri, sushi, cold cans of beer, lemon sours, and a cheap bottle of red rattling around under the seat. The train moved like a dream, slicing through the countryside, leaving the world blurred at the edges.
In Osaka, we checked into a £38-a-night business hotel. A small, square room built for working men and travelers just passing through. It had everything you needed, and nothing you didn’t.
Then the night swallowed us whole. Izakayas packed tight, smoke curling into the street, laughter spilling through the doors. We drank, we ate, we wandered. Somewhere along the way, we found a karaoke bar and strangers became old mates, singing off-key into the early hours, bound together by bad pop songs and too many highballs.
Morning came hard and fast. Strong coffee from a small shop kept us upright as we boarded the train again, this time headed for Universal Studios Japan. It was fun, loud, pure chaos, the kind of day you muscle through with a grin, even when half the time you’re shoulder to shoulder in the crowd.
Four days later, Tokyo Disneyland and everything slowed down. Calmer, easier, almost serene in that strange Japanese way of making the impossible seem effortless. We spent the day riding everything, eating beef and rice under blue skies, and were genuinely surprised by how affordable it all was.
Japan always saves its best surprises for the ones who stick around long enough to see them.
#japan #osaka #japantravelVIP Journey to Pakistans Ultra Rich Capital 🇵🇰Jack Aynsley Travel2025-04-17 | 📍Islamabad, Pakistan 🇵🇰
We left Lahore in style—real style. The Q-Connect. Pakistan’s luxury bus service. Reclining leather seats, personal screens, polished wood panels, and staff gliding down the aisle with trays of snacks like they were serving on a first-class flight. It was calm, quiet, smooth—a rare kind of stillness in a country that usually grabs you by the collar and pulls you into the noise.
Islamabad came into view like another world entirely. The capital. Neat, rich, restrained. Streets wide enough to breathe. Mountains hovering in the distance like they’re watching everything unfold. Here, the air feels different—more expensive somehow.
Outside the station, we flagged down a taxi. The driver leaned out with a smile, nodding toward his dusty old dashboard—where a Union Jack and a Texas flag were proudly stuck side by side. Bold choices. No explanation offered, none needed. We haggled for the fare. Lighthearted, but still a game. He played it well. We both knew the deal was done before the first counteroffer.
The ride to the airport was soft and slow. Islamabad slid past—quiet markets, private homes, the clean lines of government buildings disappearing in the rearview. This wasn’t the Pakistan of chai stalls and donkey carts. But it was still Pakistan. Just dressed up for an important meeting.
At the airport, we stepped out into the dry evening light. One last look. One last breath.
You don’t leave this place untouched. Pakistan gets under your skin, even when you don’t realize it. The grit, the generosity, the contradiction of it all—it stays with you.
A name wrapped in legend and layers—history, heat, humanity. One of the oldest markets in South Asia, and it *feels* like it. Not just in the architecture or the twisting alleys, but in the pulse. The place breathes. It moves like a living thing.
We came looking for jerseys. Something simple. A cricket shirt for my wife. A football top for me. What we found was more than fabric and stitching. It was voices, color, laughter spilling out of every shopfront. Stall after stall, each one with a story, each one louder than the last. Bargaining here isn’t business—it’s theatre.
Somewhere between shirts and street noise, we found the food. A man pulling fresh naan from a tandoor so hot the air shimmered. It was blistered, charred, soft in the middle, and absolutely perfect. That kind of bread that makes you stop mid-sentence, chew slowly, and appreciate the world a little more.
The people—God, the people. Conversations sparked like flint. No small talk. Just instant warmth, curiosity, welcome. They didn’t know us, didn’t need to—but they made room for us anyway. The best kind of travel is when strangers forget to be strangers.
And then there was *him*—a street food vendor who could have been running for office or hosting a game show. Big smile, bigger energy. Every customer treated like an old friend, every plate served with a side of charisma. He was selling food, sure—but what he was really serving was joy.
Anarkali isn’t calm. It’s not curated. It’s alive, loud, a bit unruly—but there’s magic in it. You don’t just shop here. You *feel* the place. And long after the jerseys fade, that feeling stays.
🛒 If you want to see our Amazon must-haves click the link below! amazon.co.uk/shop/jackaynsleytravelOur First Experience of Luxury Punjab, Pakistan 🇵🇰Jack Aynsley Travel2025-04-09 | Luxury dinner, luxury bus & a luxury hotel. This is Luxury Punjab.
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Firstly we found something we never expected to find in Faisalabad; a Chinese man. Of course we had a good chat and he offered to take us to eat. We visited Baba Tikka, one of Faisalabad’s best restaurant before taking a business class bus to Lahore. Arriving in Lahore, we bargained for a rickshaw and checked in to the Luxus Grand Hotel.