Ticket to Riyadh
I was in trouble deep in the Saudi desert. I was running late for my bus from Al Ula to Madinah. Missing it would mean a thirteen hour wait for the next one. I opened the door of the nearest … Continued
I was in trouble deep in the Saudi desert. I was running late for my bus from Al Ula to Madinah. Missing it would mean a thirteen hour wait for the next one. I opened the door of the nearest … Continued
The Africa Cup of Nations was in Germany. I wore Mali’s famous eagle shirt to Ukraine’s emotional 2-1 win over Slovakia in Düsseldorf. An Irish man spotted my unusual attire in the stadium toilets. “Mali eh.” I was the only … Continued
It had been forty years and two civil wars since Ivory Coast had last hosted the Africa Cup of Nations (AFCON). It was instantly clear how much it meant to the country. Félix Houphouët-Boigny International Airport, snappily named after Ivory Coast’s post-independence … Continued
Ivory Coast was my third AFCON. Logistically, it was the most difficult. Not a single hotel outside commercial hub Abidjan was listed on booking sites. I used my dubious French, and used up my patience, to eventually secure reservations and found … Continued
“Maradona or Messi?” was a question I was frequently asked in Argentina. It was hard to answer, but Buenos Aires was undeniably the greatest city I had yet to visit. And Argentina was something of an incongruous name on my list … Continued
Marco skipped into my Milan hotel lobby sporting dark glasses, jeans and stubble. He gave me a hug. It had been five years since television director Marco had covered my visit to Crotone for Quelli che … il Calcio. We … Continued