The rules of travelling were established at the dawning of time. A sacred duty bestowed upon a worthy few. Their secrets are few but adaptions and adoptions have been made by many, a fluidity you must earn the right too.

I started my travelling days at the glorious age of 18 when I set off for Dublin on my first real adventure with Chris Mainland. Lofty ideas about kissing Irish girls and never ending supplies of Guinness. One our of two achieved not a bad start, she was Scandinavian not Irish.

The first rule of travelling was put in place.

1) never abandon your fellow traveller. Until this day if travelling with someone I have only ever crossed the line once.

It was the feb of 2008 four years later in Thailand. Chris was being hussled by a lady boy at pool and I was talking to an attractive GIRL. She asked me if I would like to see the town at night? Dodgey in Thailand I know but Not getting a sniff at the pool table with the epic butch ness match underway I agreed. We popped out-front where she jumped on a decrepit looking scooter. Seeing my slight bemused look she said hop on. I jumped on she kick started the old banger nearly castrating me in the process and took off. As the Gforce intensified I abandoned my hand hold and wrapped my arms around her slender waist. She shuffled back a bit and relaxed her rigid stance leaning into me, it was pretty comfy... However we then hit a night market at 30mph and comfort was replaced by sheer terror!

Anyway 45mins later we returned....

Since the departure of Chris to the land of Kiwi fruit many rules have been added to the travellers code-

ALL IMPORTANT- try blend on with the locals.

- don't wear your sunglasses inside or at night no matter how cool you think you look you will look an idiot.
-wear trousers, locals don't wear shorts in town.
- avoid being out between 12-2pm (too hot).
- say your Scottish not English or British! If they know where this is you will get a much warmer reception.
- be wise on who you give your email too.
- drink the local brew whether this be beer, tea or coffee.
- have a least one conversation a day with someone who can't speak English!

It is with this back drop I relate my tale for today. I honestly am a decent guy and traveller, I want to bring young ones into the fold, teach them the craft. However today was not that day.

I was sitting in reputably the third best coffee shop in Istanbul sneakily hidden In the grand bazaar. I occupied the one table in the window. Now I'm a pro, I was doing everything right, sunglasses on the head (inside) drinking a Turkish coffee(water on the side). I had tried talking with the archaic owner. Language barrier an issue but we now had mutual respect for each other's attempt, I was just starting my second coffee after giving my lip thirds degree burns with the first attempt when disaster struct.

A guy and girl came in...

He was wearing a Manchester United top, Yankees baseball cap and carrying a load of bags. Next followed a girl with a tiny strappy top? Fake tan(to orange to be real) and shorts so wee I reckon I could see what she had for breakfast.

They approached my coffee maestro and out came my worst fear.... A London accent enquiring about seats. My table, the only table was their destination

"Sumah" i quickly ordered the bill, my change returned and habit, my downfall kicked in "cheers man"

They looked up despite the image of get lost written across my face. "Hey mate' where you from?" I was trapped ...my chair was against the wall...there was not way through them.

I discovered they were staying in the same hostel both 21 and had only just met. Clearly by the fact he paid and was carrying all the bags of a girl he had just met he was trying really hard with this girl.The guy a budding young Traveller.

We exchanged chit chat before we where heading for the age old conclusion that every conversation leads to when you meet baby or wanna be travellers. I tried to change topic, trying to save his ego, his chances with this girl but his intention was there and unwavering.

He looked me in the eye when the conversation lull began "so where else have you been."

I Dunno, It's like male stags looking horns or guys in a bar boasting about the size of their penis. I try not to get involved as mine usually tends to be much bigger. (The list of countries I've been to! You dirty minded people!)

He greedily eyed my battered, bent and faded passport on the table with my journal (before arriving I had been checking when my Turkish visa expired)

The girl Sarah cheeped in, "Brian is really well travelled he's been to 8 countries in Europe and the US," he showed me the page in his pristine passport with the US and Turkish stamps.

Awe bless 8 whole countries in Europe... I contemplated asking him if Ibiza counted as a country?

But they were young, she was clearly interested and he needed the boast. "I've been to a couple, to be honest my passport runs out in Feb I need a new one, so their isn't much to see." I glance at my watch feigned a frown and tell them I need to go.

Now this young traveller has a long way to go, he may be doing alright with the ladies (little does he know the difficulties of long distance relationships) but he is not yet at the lofty heights of receiving the travellers code.

I bid Salem to the owner, we both raise eye brows and shrug at the now flirting couple, shake hands and I depart back into the madness of the Bazaar.