Fill Yer Hump Up

Fill Yer Hump Up: Chinese Humplings

Woos the ladies and repulses the vegans: a winning combination.

"To carry something was to hump it, as when Lieutenant Jimmy Cross humped his love for Martha up the hills and through the swamps. In its intransitive form, to hump meant to walk, or to march, but it implied burdens far beyond the intransitive"

- Tim OBrien

"At my lowest point, when things were at their most desperate and uncomfortable, I always found myself in the company of Australians, who were like a reminder that I'd touched bottom"

- Paul Theroux

"Well, I'll tell you the truth, none of those things, not even remotely, has the taste of bear meat: the taste of being strong and free, which means free to make mistakes; the taste of feeling young in the mountains, of being your own master, which means master of the world"

- Primo Levi

"There's no organised effort about it but there remains a grand joke on all visitors to Baedeker's world: the permanent residents are actually humans in disguise"

- Thomas Pynchon

"Was it thus to punish me that they confined me to my room? One might as well exile a mouse to a granary"

- Xavier de Maistre

Travel magazines, am I right?

Yeah, I thought so. But fear not, comrade. HUMP isn’t some slick, glossy Condé Nast brochure full of nutrition-free puff pieces. This is raw like dodgy pork, meandering like a drunk ladybug, and more honest than a carpet salesman. There are no sponsored trips here: just hard-hitting fireworks of debatable truth, paid for – financially, emotionally, and physically – by your idiot on the front lines.

It’s a zine for quixotic wanderers, the terminally unprepared, the damned fools doing whatever it takes to cram all of Earth’s delights into their travel gob. A zine for the beautiful people who aren’t really sure of the difference between life and travel.

A zine for you.