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Monday, 01 March 2021

Catching Some Z's: Zambia & Zimbabwe

Written by Richard Taylor

At some point, between the cataracts and grunting hippos, one starts to grapple with the basics, the real mysteries of life. For instance, the letter Z. With Zambia on the left bank, Zimbabwe on the right and my ‘sunset cruise’ ferrying me down the Zambezi, the riddle of ‘Z’ inevitably crops up. As for the Zambezi itself, I loved it from the first. Loved the name. Africa’s more famous waterways, the Nile, the Congo, might have their pyramids and gorillas, but if ever a moniker conjured up unscrupulous ivory hunters and Edgar Rice Burroughs, surely it would be the Zambezi. Two days prior, the Zimbabwe officials had sold me a dual visa for fifty dollars and I snagged a ride with a South African troupe over No Man’s Land (catching a tantalizing glimpse of lofty cliffs and mists and pounding waters), arriving at the Zambian frontier and its town of…

Tuesday, 01 September 2020

Poling the Okavango, Botswana

Written by Richard Taylor

The Old Bridge Backpacker’s Lodge has a cool, bohemian wayfarer air; a shrinking anomaly in Botswana, where the tourist mandarins are phasing out the backpacker crowd and phasing in the high rollers (flights into the bush and want-for-nothing lodges at two thousand dollars a night). But the packers were certainly here today, sitting at the outdoor tables, chatting and smoking and having breakfast, so Botswana hadn’t purged them yet. And it was a lovely spot to boot, with a pond and a creek and water birds and the rickety bridge from which, I suppose, the lodge took its name. There was also a sign near the pond: BEWARE OF CROCODILES So the reported sighting yesterday may have been legit. While I’d been arranging for the Okavango trip at the tour office in Maun, one of the other clerks burst through the doors. “They saw a big crocodile at the Old…

Wednesday, 01 July 2020

Sossusvlei, Namibia

Written by Richard Taylor

“If you want to get to Sesriem,” said Mr. Duplessis. “You have to hire a driver. Or find someone who’s going that way.” The trouble with Namibia is that nobody lives in Namibia. Notwithstanding the Intercape line, which links southern Africa’s major cities there’s not enough public for public transit. The big bus had wheezed to a stop in Mariental at five in the morning, depositing me outside a Wimpy’s restaurant and adjacent gas pumps. For the past twenty hours, between naps, I’d been chatting with Mr. Duplessis, up from Cape Town to visit his daughter and in-laws. Sesriem was the jump off for the great dunes at Sossusvlei. As for people ‘going that way’, most had already left or been picked up by family. Then our Wimpy’s waitress flipped her cell phone and told her husband he had a client. “He’ll be here in about twenty minutes with his…

Friday, 01 May 2020

Virtually Visiting the World's Museums

Written by Christina Bolton

Art galley tours are the next thing to adapt to today’s social distancing. Here are some museums you can explore online with virtual tours or with their collections online: The Louvre, Paris Everyone knows its impossible to see all of the Louvre in one visit anyways, so some pre- or post-visit perusal is warranted, even without a pandemic. They also have a free virtual reality app to view Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa in 360: Mona Lisa: Beyond the Glass. Download it on the app store for android or apple. https://www.louvre.fr/en You can search the collection here: https://www.louvre.fr/en/moteur-de-recherche-oeuvres or see their masterpieces here: https://www.louvre.fr/en/selections/masterpieces Their list of video’s is here: https://www.louvre.fr/en/media-en-ligne Uffizi Gallery, Florence, Italy The best of their collection is right here on the first page: https://www.uffizi.it/en/artworks You can do a virtual tour on Google and ‘walk’ around the museum here: https://artsandculture.google.com/streetview/uffizi-gallery/1AEhLnfyQCV-DQ or use the museum's 360 for its…

Sunday, 01 July 2018

Chilly Chile

Written by Joslyn Jennifer Gadwah

Ask any travelista, Chile is a quiet country. It’s not an Argentina or Brazil. It can’t tout – “We are the Paris of South America” as Buenos Aires, Argentina, can. Nor does it house the largest and most famous rainforest in the world – as Brazil can claim. In fact, in the ‘90s comedy film “There’s Something About Mary,” one of Mary’s crackpot, lying suitors owns up to his lies by asking who’s been to Santiago, Chile, twice in one year. Preposterous notion. I always chirp at the TV – “I have!” But still. Ouch. I bet Chile felt the burn on that one. Chile is magnificent partially for, not despite, all its quietness and modesty. Some might call it an emotionally “cold” country. “Where are my gloves?” I call it “beautiful.” I used to travel there in the mid-2000s while working for The Economist magazine. It was always my…

Tuesday, 01 May 2018

A Tête-à-tête with the Uzbek: Traveling Uzbekistan

Written by Prachi Kagzi

When I requested a fellow passenger to take my picture on the aerobridge, another passenger popped thru the phone screen exclaiming "At least ensure you can read Kazakhstan Airways" only to get a fitting reply by the photographer in question "It's Uzbekistan not Kazakhstan!" Such is the knowledge of Indians traveling to the mystical land of the Uzbeks, and I was thrilled to be on the flight after contemplating for many years! The aircraft was much beyond my expectation, new, modern and up to date although the airline staff does require a real world training of 'service with a smile.' The short flight from Delhi got me into Tashkent in the afternoon and after a quick lunch I was ready to explore the city. My first impressions were the quietness, cleanliness and the orderliness. With a small population of 2 million the city lends a feeling of usual tardiness. I…

Friday, 01 September 2017

Alias Mumbai

Written by Richard Taylor

I don’t know who Charlie Gibbs happens to be but somewhere in the mid-Atlantic, he has a ‘fracture zone’ named for him. That zone didn’t sound promising – the epicenter for some future tsunami no doubt, but what struck me was the informality of it. Why not Charles Gibbs, or better yet, Sir Charles? (My travel snobbery is boundless). I was considering names hours later as we approached India and honed in on the airport of BOM, a rather unnerving abbreviation on the flight map and quaintly out of date too – the city hadn’t been tagged as Bombay for twenty years and one would have thought MUM’s the word. Mumbai at that point was a transit stop – I had business in Gujarat State but I returned a week later to tour the city proper. With lingering, unpleasant memories of Delhi from two decades ago I felt uneasy, although…

Saturday, 01 July 2017

Solo Hike to the top of Diamond Head

Written by Jill Weinlein

During President’s weekend I found a great airfare to Honolulu on the island of Oahu for a long “pop-up” weekend. One of my favorite hotels is the Outrigger Waikiki Beach due to it’s location – right in the middle of Waikiki Beach. It’s beachfront rooms offer one of the most photogenic spots for outrigger canoes, catamaran sailboats and the morning sun rising above the dormant Diamond Head volcano. Another perk about this hotel is it’s complimentary Waikiki Connection trolley. With over 20 stops throughout Honolulu, I took the trolley my first morning to the base of Diamond Head to hike from inside the volcanic crater to the top along the rim. It’s a good morning activity before the sun heats up the two mile trail. In the late 1700s, Western explorers and traders believed the calcite crystals on the slope of the craters were diamonds, and the name Diamond Head…

Monday, 01 May 2017

Pune, India: Exploring the 'University Town'

Written by Richard Taylor

Frosh week, pompoms and marching bands notwithstanding, the phrase ‘university town’ conjures up visions of mom‘n pop bookstores, the distant lilt of campus ditties and students composing under the Old Oak Tree. In Pune, one must factor in the host nation. As our bus skirted the city’s outer ring, we encountered three sights common to India; opulent wedding processions, impoverished tent cities and traffic jams to eternity. Pune was an Indian city to its core, with all the color and mania and crowds I’d come to expect, a university town as described by The Simpsons’ Apu, graduating first in his class of seven million. I’d checked in at the Centurion Hotel and rashly paid for the first two nights in cash, to show them I was a big man. This left me skint but near the bus station, an ATM coughed up the requisite rupees and I drifted through a…

Monday, 31 October 2016

AFESIP Cambodia: Helping Sex Trafficking Survivors Re-integrate

Written by Andrea Oikawa

A ball of orange fired up the Cambodian sky, casting heat on the makeshift market stalls lining Phnom Penh’s Veng Sreng Road. Cars dotted the road and yawned past the protruding awnings, pop-up shops and pedestrian consumers. Veng Sreng slowly stretched itself awake as the clock rolled around to nine in the morning. AFESIP Fair Fashion’s Executive Director Rotha navigated his truck towards the AFESIP workshop and spoke of the grisly not-so-distant history behind Veng Sreng’s serene façade. Less than three years ago, the workers of this largely industrial area took to the streets in protest for higher wages. The unfortunate result: Five deaths and at least 40 injured as government troops rained AK47 bullets on the crowd. Without Rotha filling in the background, I’d have remained ignorant to these tragic events of early 2014. The AFESIP workshop shows a similar façade; situated on a peaceful side street near Veng…

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Sunday, 01 May 2016

Standing Naked in Turkey

Written by Annessa Ann Babic

Not long ago I found myself on the shores of Mediterranean Turkey. In the course of this voyage, I booked a tour to see Pammakule and Heirpolis. Ancient ruins and mineral deposits on the sides of cliffs . . . seriously, there is little better to fuel the fire of my inner nerd and wanderlust gal. Though, perhaps one of the perks of this trip was the promise to bathe in the mineral waters of Cleopatra, slather myself in healing mud, and stand in the sun absorbing vitamin D while it dried. After all, I do live in the northern hemisphere, New York City to be exact, so the odds of my ever holding the recommended value of vitamin D is a sliding scale of slim to never. Though, in eleven countries and and thirty-three US states (nine of them having lived in) I have become fairly accustomed to embracing…

Tuesday, 01 March 2016

Madurai, India

Written by Richard Taylor

Few things color a tourist destination more than being described as “the Paris of this” or “the Oxford of that.” The letdown is almost inevitable. Back in the Seventies, my parents had returned from a tour of the Soviet Union and I still recall my father’s comment regarding Leningrad, “the Venice of the North.” “Some bloody Venice,” my father said. Madurai is a different case. This ancient burg, the spiritual center of Tamil Nadu state, has origins dating back to the Third Century B.C. Under the enlightened auspices of the early sultans, it burst into flower as a major cultural and commercial hub, attracting scholars, poets, merchants and traders. At its height Madurai was known as “the Athens of the East.” I despise Athens. The appellation of course, applies to Athenian glory of centuries past, not to the dirty, oppressive Greek capital of today. My hope then, in arriving here…

Friday, 01 January 2016

Mysore, India

Written by Richard Taylor

Mysore, to put it delicately, makes a lousy first impression. Clanking into the bus-clogged, frenzied Central Station on a Sunday afternoon, lugging baggage sans map through the simmering maze of streets, neglecting of course, to book lodging ahead, had me snarling and snapping and grinding my molars in five minutes. Toss in the prerequisite honking (Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jain – this stuff is all by the way – India’s main religion is the Cult of Horn, which they practice devoutly and ceaselessly) and the charm of the “Sandalwood City” was lost on me. On the other hand, one may have a more phlegmatic temperament (keeping in mind that the sub-continent is not a first impression kind of place), settled in, had a shower and counted to ten, in which case Mysore can be a delight, as classically ‘India’ as it gets, boasting a splendid market, some fine squares, a very…

Saturday, 31 October 2015

How to Travel Alone in a Developing Country

Written by Meredith Chait

Sitting in traffic, I looked out the open rickshaw vehicle. It was pitch black on our drive to the restaurant. I could make out the shadows of the many people milling around the streets. The mob of people was so close they could touch me through the open side of the rickshaw. People huddled around small wooden tables with candles lighting the merchandise down the sides of the streets. Sitting in that car, I realized, I was in Africa. I was halfway around the world from my home. I did not go out at night unless I was with other people. As a woman traveling alone in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, I had to be savvier than others might have to be. Some people see a woman alone as an easy target for crime or to take advantage of when negotiating prices. “Wow, you went by yourself. That’s brave. I…

Monday, 31 August 2015

Travel in Timor Leste or East Timor

Written by Jason Morgado

If you are Portuguese, chances are you’ve heard of Timor Leste, you might not know where it is, but you’ve heard of it. As a Canadian, you may have heard of East Timor, its unofficial name, but the more that I told people where I was going on holiday, I got more quizzical looks than approving nods. When I think back on it, I am not sure how I settled on Timor Leste for my annual holidays, but somewhere within the past six months I set my dates, bought my tickets and went to visit the travel clinic for a dizzying array of shots and medications. Flying to Dili, the capital, isn’t easy. It can only be reached via Singapore, Bali in Indonesia and Darwin on the northern tip of Australia. This type of isolation and challenge already had me excited because any country that is this hard to get…

Tuesday, 30 June 2015

Bagerhat, Bangladesh

Written by Richard Taylor

“No crocodiles today,” said Nazmul. “It’s too cold.” We’d made our first stop of the tour. Well, the second – we’d pulled up earlier by a pastiche of tents and kiosks so Nazmul could get a cup of tea. But ultimately, we’d reached the Dargha Mosque and Khan Jahan Mausoleum, a place of pilgrimage, honoring the saintly Turkish general who’d been responsible for the birthing of this “lost” city. Nazmul parked the car and took me inside (that I was allowed into the mausoleum was unusual in itself) where an old gentleman received us kindly and pointed out the general’s crypt. There were no other visitors, which also seemed odd, until we were outside again, where a large throng had already descended the steps to the “crocodile pond.” This was the Thakur Dighi in fact, a man made water tank common to the district but the lush vegetation had encroached…

Thursday, 30 April 2015

A Writer on the Magome-Tsumago Trail, Japan

Written by Sze-Leng Tan

Never did I realize that it was a journey of no return. Never did I realize that the trail I followed that day, on a sunny mid-autumn day in 2014, was an answer to my heart’s calling. The Magome-Tsumago trail in Japan is part of the 700-km Nakasendo Highway in Kisoji (or Kiso Valley) which extends from Nagano Prefecture to Gifu Prefecture, weaves through and along the mountains of the Central Alps. The Highway was a vital ancient route for traders traveling between Tokyo and Kyoto during the Edo period. Defying time and change, both Magome and Tsumago are post towns which were rest stations for those traders. Both are joined by the trail like a red thread that draws a good marriage between yin and yang. My journey from Magome to Tsumago was launched with a climb. A rustic water mill rotated leisurely outside of a house with Edo-architectural…

Sunday, 01 March 2015

Forgotten Stamps on my Passport

Written by J. Jennifer Gadwah

In the land of dreams, each country’s passport stamp surely has its own color and scent. It is never a generic, odorless black. Instead, the blueness, greenness, even orangeness, would fill up my nostrils in a celebration of travel – instantly reminding me from where I have just come. I imagine the hand of an unknown customs agent holding the stamp’s handle, then pounding the base into the small rectangular box of ink for a refill, then finally sailing down onto the pale blue piece of booklet paper where it gently twists, and twists, to ensure a proper stamp. What would the stamps of Latin America be in dreams? I know the colors of their flags in reality. I know red and green is Mexico – a colorful burst of hot peppers, the unofficial emblems of their land. I know Chile is a solid-looking blue and red, adorned with a…

Monday, 05 January 2015

14 Best of 2014: a Trip Around the World

Written by Yutriz Pernía

(c)Yutriz Pernía

Thursday, 23 October 2014

Free Solo Climbing the Flatirons

Written by Nicholas Ducker

Today is the 23rd of June, 2014. Today is the day I almost died. Until recently, the world of free-solo climbing was a world totally unknown to me. It was a world shrouded in mystery. For those who aren't familiar with the climbing jargon, free-solo climbing refers to the act of climbing rock considered class 5, a la dangerous enough to warrant the use of a rope, without the rope. I had been climbing for just over a year, a trivial amount of time in the world of climbing. I was pretty confident in my physical ability and considered my mental control of fear a lot better than it actually was. I had also recently moved to the picturesque town of Boulder, Colorado, a relatively compact town based on the edge of the Rocky Mountain National Park, and at the base of what is called “The Flatirons”. The most prominent…

Monday, 30 June 2014

Kanyakumari, India: the end is the beginning

Written by Gaía Passarelli

“Some say this is the end of all India, here where the three seas meet. But there is only one sea, and this is the place where everything begins." This is Kanyakumari, India's southernmost tip, according to a devotee of the illustrious Hindu monk Swami Vivekananda. The anonymous man is committed to taking care of the Swami’s shrine. Not the huge memorial built on a rock in the middle of the sea right ahead, whereas a 130 feet statue stands, but a small altar, carved in black stone back in the 1960s, hidden behind the great Devi temple and disregarded by Kanyakumari’s visitors. Most people come to this city at the border of Tamil Nadu and Kerala to ask for benefits at the Devi Kumari temple and enjoy the sunset from Mahatma Gandhi's museum balcony. But the man doesn’t mind. His mission in life is to keep the shrine fresh…

Saturday, 01 February 2014

A Cricketing Passage to India: Watching and playing the national sport

Written by Robert Davies

“Woooosshhhh” goes the sound of the red painted tennis ball as it flies past my head. The laughter from the boys standing nearby, when I swing my arms round and try to hit the ball that has already passed me, is thunderous. Welcome to Indian cricket. Street style. I had come to India to watch England play two Test matches and then, in an effort to gain an understanding of the country, to see a few of its sights. Street cricket wasn't on the agenda. But the sights, though beautiful, had left me empty and the freneticism of Indian life bewildered me. I needed to connect with India in another way, and found cricket was the answer. You can forget the Taj Mahal anyway, if you are a fan of cricket. The sight you want to see is Eden Gardens, Kolkata; cricket’s answer to that great palace. I was there…

Monday, 30 December 2013

An (Uncool) American in Paris

Written by Katherine Hildebrandt

“I’ll have a diet coke.” “One American Bourgogne” replied the waiter cheekily. I was completely mortified. So it was true, they really do hate Americans in Paris. Ok, maybe that’s an exaggeration. I was sixteen at the time (a year ago) and absolutely, utterly conscious of the fact that I was clumsy American in the most immaculate, intellectual, and stylish city on Earth. I thought I was well ahead of the game in my black dresses and minimalist accessories. As usual, I was wrong. France, in general, was defined by a cool effortlessness, and the fact that I had my hair, makeup, and clothes perfectly matched became my flashing neon sign – one that shouted “HI! I’M NOT FROM HERE.” Don’t believe me? My very first day in the city of lights brought me to a Starbucks (expert tip: embrace the local French coffee shops instead) and I approached the…

Sunday, 01 September 2013

Batman, Turkey

Written by Maria Estrella Aggabao

It was the first day of July. It was the day I arrived in an old city in the southeastern region of Turkey. Everyone had warned me back in Istanbul about it. Don’t go in the summer especially in July and August they would tell me. The city was called Batman. I defied all those who told me no. I was in Batman and I wouldn’t and couldn’t admit it. But, yes, that morning I set foot in the city, the weather was extreme. It was worse than any heat wave I had experienced. That morning, it hit 108 degrees fahrenheit. I arrived at the hotel at 6 a.m. from Istanbul, just a mere 2-hour flight. After showering and sleeping for a few hours, I descended for my first and main destination, HASANKEYF. The town name itself was luminous and mysterious sounding. Though I was not an archaeology expert, I…

Sunday, 28 April 2013

Welcome to the Jungle

Written by Danielle Ditzian

It was the event that would solidify my love for solo travel. It was also the most intense moment of my entire life. Before my travels began to Peru I was faced with a painful breakup, and the fact that the trip we had planned together would be faced alone. I decided that it was best to still go off on my travels, and it was the best decision that I have ever made. I had been warned by all of my friends and family to be very careful, especially as a young North American girl traveling alone, and there was one day when I was neglectful, leaving my iPod out in my empty dorm room while I went sandboarding. A taxi driver had wandered into my hostel and up into my room, and had taken my iPod. While I was frantically searching for it, this man re-entered my room…

Tuesday, 01 January 2013

Travels in Fiji

Written by Leanne Turner

There is no simple way to describe visiting Fiji. From the outside it appears a rather “safe” place to visit; English is one of the official languages and even the currency has the comforting presence of the Queen. But hearing locals talking amongst themselves in Fijian, the beautiful scenery and the friendliness of the people: you realize quickly that you have arrived somewhere very special. A traveler to this beautiful country steps off the plane and upon feeling the tropical heat while walking from the plane to the terminal immediately feels like they are following in the footsteps of the great explorers, charting untamed lands and undiscovered places. The greeting of a band of Fijians playing instruments and singing welcoming songs to visitors might seem a bit contrived. However it soon becomes clear that it is this friendliness you see throughout the islands. Fiji would definitely be a great place…

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Unforgettable Cuba

Written by Andrea MacEachern

I’ve taken many memorable vacations over the course of my lifetime. Each vacation I’ve taken has left me with fond memories, new friends, and a new outlook on my surroundings. One recent vacation, in particular, left me with more than I could ever imagine from a simple week-long trip. I didn’t have to travel very far to this destination; in fact, I technically didn’t even have to leave the continent. A short bus ride to the airport and a 4-hour flight was all I needed to get to one of the most unique, diverse places in this hemisphere. My reasons for going to Cuba were very clear; Beautiful beaches, unique culture, low crime rate and, of course, the city of Havana. I also wanted to experience a place that hadn’t been “Americanized” like a lot of the other Caribbean Islands. Since I was traveling alone, I erred…

Sunday, 17 June 2012

Miyako-jima: Okinawa off the Beaten Path

Written by Camille Bromley

Imagine that a warm evening on Miyako-jima, a small island in the Japanese archipelago of Okinawa, is coming to a close. You have twenty five kilometers to go until Boraga beach, where you plan to set up camp for the night. The road is isolated, unmarked by electric lamp posts, and the red-orange glow of the sun is fading fast. Hills rise up before you, each one steeper than the last. You start panting for breath, legs getting heavy. You have only a few minutes to make it to the beach before darkness falls. Finally you hear the crashing of waves and roll in to a stop, relieved. But as you set up a tent in the last dim rays of the sun, you realize that all the shops on the beach (meaning, the one restaurant and one souvenir shop) are closed, and you have nothing to eat. Luckily, you…

Monday, 23 April 2012

Yachats, Oregon

Written by Lynne Nieman

"There is not a lot to do in Yachats, Oregon, but that is what makes this seaside hamlet such a great destination." - travelguideofamerica.comPerfect, I thought. This was what I needed. After ending a six year relationship only three short months ago, I yearned to go somewhere to heal my broken heart and rejuvenate my spirit. The remote coastal town of Yachats, Oregon (pop. 749) sounded perfect. I flew into Portland, taking an early flight from Denver, and rented a car. There are a couple of different routes to the coast. I had chosen a route through the wine country, taking I-5S to OR-99W then to OR-18 W/OR-223 S/SE before heading south on US-101, the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH). Although a bit longer time-wise, the picturesque views made it well worth it. There was something about the symmetry of the vineyards that calmed me; the rolling hills of the fertile land…

Friday, 03 February 2012

Containers in the Atlantic: Being a Passenger on a Container Ship

Written by Rebecca Ann Hall

“You’re going WHERE?” inquired friends. It wasn’t so much my destination(s) that fascinated them: Guadeloupe, Martinique, Colombia and Costa Rica – rather the fact I had chosen to get there by ship, and not a cruise ship. I was going to be a passenger on board a Del Monte ‘banana boat.’ In short, I was going to experience life on the high seas on a container carrier. “But why?” asked my father. “The journey’s all part of the fun…besides, you should understand, being an ex man of the sea” I replied. Having been nurtured since birth on stories of the great high seas and countries afar, my wanderlust for all things original had certainly been, in part, from his gene pool. I boarded the Hornlinie German ship in Le Havre, France. Registered in Liberia, she was an impressive sight – the bridge (where we all slept, ate and wiled…

Saturday, 20 August 2011

How to Make Friends While Traveling Alone

Written by Jessica Festa

After studying in Sydney, Australia and contracting a permanent case of the travel bug, it became my life’s goal to backpack Europe the summer after college. I can remember friends excitedly promising that they, too, would love to accompany me on a backpacking tour of Europe after we were done with school. However, as the Eurotrip approached, it became clear: this was something I would have to do alone. Friends who had been previously gung-ho about making the journey began coming up with excuses: I don’t have the money, I need to search for a job, my parents aren’t comfortable with the idea of the trip, my significant other isn’t supportive. With about six months to go before I would be leaving for the continent, I was down to two travel buddies, neither of whom had laid out any cash yet. And, when it got down to the month…

Thursday, 30 June 2011

Great Barrier Reef First-Timer

Written by Shelly Hallman

Crammed on a wooden bench, slightly damp and smelling of salt, I sit among fifty-odd strangers, shoulders touching, as our boat the Reef Quest charges out to sea. The air is thick, the kind of choking tropical atmosphere that I imagine one could swim through. Every molecule of my sun-burned body is consumed by anxiety. With each slap of the catamaran against the ocean’s choppy surface I am transported closer and closer to the Great Barrier Reef. In less than ninety minutes I’m going to become a scuba diver—and I don’t know how I feel about that. Let me be clear. I never wanted to be a diver. In my thirty-one years of existence I’ve aspired to become all kinds of things: skateboarder, snowboarder, surfer, and wakeboarder. But diver? That never entered my mind. Not until I found myself stuck in between Sydney and the Gold Coast of Australia with…

Monday, 25 April 2011

Searching for Cows in Bali

Written by Melanie Jae Martin

When traveling alone, it’s often helpful to have a secret mission. It keeps up the morale and gives you a pathway into your surroundings. In a foreign land, a secret mission is especially useful, helping you to look like you belong there—you’ve come for a reason, and you know what you’re doing.My goal was to find out how those cows got up onto that mountaintop.Seeing cows might not be high on most travelers’ priority list when they come to Bali. With an island full of colorful ceremonies, ornate temples, and surfers’ havens, livestock doesn’t command much notice. But, when I arrived in the town of Candidasa (“Chan-dee-dasa”) to find it a bit too touristy for my tastes, I looked up to see a group of local bovines and felt they just might have the answer.They stood high on a rounded precipice overlooking the village, which overlooked the sea. The hill…

Saturday, 26 February 2011

Big Bend Solo

Written by Barbara Weddle

I step out of my rental car. Into the hot sun. I pick my way through some prickly pear cactus to stand next to a barbed wire fence strung together with gnarled mesquite “posts.” A giant vulture perches on the other side of the road. It stares at me with its red face and featherless neck. The slight breeze carries a hint of something scorched. The utter silence and isolation of the place is heightened by the distant calls of some bird. I pour some water from my bottle in the palm of my hand and splash it over my face and stare out across the rock-strewn and sun-bleached landscape that southwardly grades to the fringes of a distant mountain range.And that is when it comes to me. I am actually here, in “the West”, amidst a rocky terrain of prickly pear, spiky lechuguilla, creosote bushes, yucca plants and thorny…

Wednesday, 29 December 2010

Hay-on-Wye in Autumn

Written by Leah Eades

Hay-on-Wye is a small Welsh market-town that straddles the Welsh- Anglo border and sits huddled within the Brecon Beacons National Park. It is nothing out of the ordinary, except that it’s positively groaning with the weight of its many thousands of second-hand, specialist and collectors’ books. This is a town literally packed with words, and come June every year, the bibliophiles arrive in their droves for the annual Literary Festival, booking up the quaint B&Bs and draining the tearooms of Earl Grey as they pore over the multitude of bookshops and gather to hear the greatest literary minds of the year speak. However, I went to Hay-on-Wye in mid- September, and not during the festival. The crowds were gone. The campsites were empty. And the books that are left still sit, waiting to be browsed by men with beards and backpacks and women in dusty velvet skirts; they are crammed…

Tuesday, 12 October 2010

Walkabout: Vik and Iceland’s South Coast

Written by William Carne

A personal account of growth through travel As a species, we define ourselves by moments and stretches of time. My time in High School, the time I lived in Toronto, my time in University. And today: The time I was truly on my own. I sit in the small bus depot in Reykjavik, writing in my journal as a girl walks by. I don’t look at her eyes or legs or any other cliché bits that single, slightly desperate guys are known to watch for. What really stands out is the sound of her heels as she walks to the café and back. Clop, clop, clop. I stop writing and just listen – until it fades. I catch the bus and after a few hours it turns into a narrow canyon that opens up all around us. There are a few small buildings, a large camping ground and a raging…

Monday, 30 August 2010

Running in Pamplona's Encierro, Madrid, and Greece

Written by Matthew Vitug

I wait for the bulls to run towards me, glancing at my watch. It’s five minutes before eight a.m.; all the maniacs focus their attention toward the gate of the corral ahead of us. My heart beats so fast, the thumping that rumbles through my body resemble hip-hop bass and punk drums. I can’t believe I am standing here in the front line of a sea of runners in the Encierro in Pamplona, Spain. Around me, some faces hold looks of excitement, while others appear frightened. I can’t help but wonder; are we in this together or is it everyone for themselves? I imagine it would be even crazier if I could somehow get a close-up photo of one of the bulls. Is that even possible?

Monday, 03 May 2010

Cartagena, Colombia: Buses in South America, To Look or not to Look?

Written by Brendan van Son

I stepped off of my plane into the humid Caribbean air confronted by a familiar regret regarding the next leg of my journey: another Latin American bus! In South America, it seems like on every single bus journey you’re putting your life into the hands of stock car racers who haven’t been told that they’re now driving a bus. On the steep-edged, sharp mountain curves, one often hears the questionable rumble of the pressure to the driver’s gas pedal — the result of which would test even an astronaut’s G-force tolerance levels. Bags on the ground and objects in the overheads are often launched across the bus in the seemingly gravity-free environment. The locals, who are quite used to the situation, carelessly continue reading the latest futbol news or bouncing their unbuckled kids on their laps. Speed limits seem like more of a recommendation, as drivers appear to have no…

Monday, 22 March 2010

Magical Apo Island, Philippines

Written by Tascha Eipe

‘Hi! Hello! Where are you from?’ I stepped off the little boat knee-deep into the azure waters. A few meters away, children from the island yelled out to me. I waved to them as they dodged one another on the sand, waiting for me to step onto the beach. Apo Island is tiny.

Friday, 22 January 2010

Wings, Wheels and Waves: An Exploration of Costa Rica's South

Written by Stephanie Hartka

The flaps go down, the wheels descend out of the body of the aircraft and suddenly the tiny plane shudders to a halt. The light is golden and I am surrounded by palm trees as far as the eye can see. “Welcome to Quepos Manuel Antonio!” exclaims the handsome young pilot over his shoulder. It’s the first leg of my five-day excursion into Costa Rica’s southern and less-explored villages and jungles; a vagabond’s dream come true. I arrive in Quepos Manuel Antonio not as a tourist, but as a chronic itinerant. I’ve come to look at this place as bit of an obsession; it is as if some vortex constantly pulls me back.

Sunday, 27 December 2009

New Orleans Jazz Fest: the Beat Goes On

Written by Mark McKirdy

When Hurricane Katrina visited southeast Louisiana on August 29, 2005, it didn’t knock first. The wolf-wild winds huffed and puffed and destroyed more than 350,000 homes. Almost 2,000 people lost their lives in the hurricane and the subsequent floods. The city itself didn’t escape. Unlike the immovable house of bricks in the fairy tale, New Orleans’ metropolitan area was battered and then lost under fifteen feet of water, resulting in over 200,000 homes and apartments being damaged beyond repair.

Tuesday, 01 September 2009

The Ultimate Adventure: Skydiving, Riverboarding, and Rafting

Written by Lesley Boutilier

What do you get when you combine the extreme adventure sports of whitewater rafting, riverboarding, and skydiving? It’s called the ultimate adrenaline rush and Millinocket, Maine is the only place in North America where you can do it all in the same weekend. Gone are the days of relaxing on a river, taking in the scenery from a comfy airplane seat, or paddling quietly in a canoe. New trends in travel include extreme adventure sports and pushing the limits. At the base of Mount Katahdin, Maine’s highest peak, I found Penobscot Adventures, Three Rivers Jump and Raft, and the experience of a lifetime! Rafting the Class V Penobscot River, riverboarding the whitewater rapids, and skydiving from 11,000 feet was the most insane, adrenaline-filled weekend of my life!

Friday, 03 July 2009

A Sunset in Pyonsan, Korea

Written by Tamara

One week after the start of summer, the sun sets late in the coastal town of Pyonsan, on South Korea’s Southwestern coast. It’s around eight o’clock and the sun, a golden orb, is shining through the clouds near the horizon.

Sunday, 31 May 2009

Solo Bus Adventures: Atacama to Salta

Written by Kara Carlson

I had been traveling alone through South America for three weeks when I awoke the morning of my 20-hour bus ride from San Pedro de Atacama, Chile, to Salta, Argentina, with a throbbing headache and transported myself to the bus stop more slowly than my brain deciphers long division.

Saturday, 28 February 2009

War-torn Vulkovar, Croatia

Written by Andrea MacDonald

As the bus neared Vukovar, a city known as the biggest river port in eastern Croatia, there was no getting around the fact that something bad had happened there. The giant tank parked on a nearby field leading the way into town was my first clue.

Wednesday, 29 April 2009

Cuba's Port of Hope

Written by Luke Maguire Armstrong

Walking through the relaxed streets of Viñales, on my way to the Cubanacán travel office to rent a bike, a Cuban rides up flashing me his yellow bike and asks, “You want to rent my bike? Best bike in all of Cuba. Try it out if you don’t believe me.”

Sunday, 16 November 2008

Paddling in Pahia, New Zealand

Written by Aaron Ober

There I was, flipping through a guide book in my hostel bunk, while crunching noisily on vitamin C drops and sniffing back the head cold that I had picked up somewhere in the rainy streets of Auckland. It was day three of my solo adventure to the North Island of New Zealand. With limited time, I decided to explore the Bay of Islands at the utmost tip of the land, rich with native Maori history, geographically blessed with one hundred forty-four islands, and some of the best sport-fishing in the world. I was dripping with anticipation—and as sick as a dog.

Sunday, 28 September 2008

Santa Barbara: A Bike Ride through the American Riviera

Written by Brent Bakeman

I left Esau’s on State Street after a satisfying meal of chicken fried steak and eggs, and walked outside for a breath of fresh air and a look around. It was a beautiful Santa Barbara day -- 73 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. People walked up and down the busy street in shorts and t-shirts busying themselves with some shopping and enjoying the day. .The large college population and world-class shopping in Santa Barbara bring money up from bigger California cities like Los Angeles and San Diego. Downstate past the 101 Highway, pristine beaches lay ahead where sunbathers, surfers and bike-riders gather to be near the ocean breeze – the perfect place for people-watching.

Saturday, 05 July 2008

Belize: Paradise in Placencia

Written by Aaron Ober

I wandered back along Placencia’s crumbled main street, and found the Pickled Parrot, a palm-thatched bar and grill where Christina’s boyfriend Greg worked as a bartender. I pulled up a stool at the bar and glanced around at the liquor selection; needless to say, their rum options were numerous. Greg must have been in his early fifties, with long, flowing gray hair, a neatly trimmed beard and crystal-blue eyes. He reminded me of a deadhead scientist, equipped with wire-rimmed spectacles that clung to the abrupt angle of his long nose. With a grunt and a nod he acknowledged me as he finished mixing a pink cocktail for another patron.

Monday, 05 May 2008

Belize: A Journey from Belize City to Placencia

Written by Aaron Ober

This was my first trip to Central America. I had arrived with intentions of writing a fly-fishing and kayaking story on Glovers Reef with friend and fellow photographer Paul Kerrison, who had made arrangements with a local adventure company for the expedition. Hungry for some Caribbean sun and relaxation, I flew down a week before Paul's planned arrival. Another friend of mine, Jim Mercure, owned a small plot of beachfront property in Placencia (said to mean “peaceful point”), a village in southern Belize. He welcomed me to stay there but warned of unsure conditions. An unwanted guest had arrived in October 2001, by the name of Iris. Iris began as a tropical storm way out in the Caribbean Sea, but just before making landfall it quickly gathered strength and grew into a monster category four hurricane, with its sights set on Placencia. I wasn’t sure how the storm’s aftermath would…

Tuesday, 04 March 2008

Elf Hunt: A Search for Inspiration in Iceland

Written by Jennifer Anthony

The elves freeze as the shuttle chugs past their invisible homes in the volcanic rock on either side of the two-lane road. I squint hard. I may have spotted one. Or, it may have been a trick of the shadows - not an elf at all but a dwarf, gnome, troll, or skrimsli. I am not in Middle Earth, but what inspired it: Iceland. The land of sagas and Vikings. It is an astonishing landscape of volcanoes, geysers, waterfalls, and fjords. J.R.R. Tolkien hired Icelandic nannies to tell his children tales in a language unchanged for hundreds of years. I am here on a covert mission to be similarly inspired, and to find an elf or two.

Wednesday, 27 February 2008

This Bus Departs at Nine in the Morning

Written by Kelly N. Patterson

"This bus is going to fall," I stated and asked concurrently in my Swahili 101. The buddah-bodied, sarong wrapped woman to my right laughed at my big worried eyes. "No, young sista," her electric white teeth glowed through me. "Hamna tabu."

Monday, 31 December 2007

Independence Abroad

Written by Maria Belford

When people heard I planned to travel to Europe by myself at the age of just barely eighteen I received concerned, confused and condescending remarks from just about everyone. They looked at me like I was crazy, and then to my mother like she was equally crazy for allowing me to do it. It was as if they didn’t believe I’d be able to handle it- the unfamiliar atmosphere, responsibilities, independence. I didn’t let it phase me, however; the closer I got to my date of departure, the more confident I felt about going.

Wednesday, 19 September 2007

Mexico: The Pied Pipers of Guanajuato

Written by Jennifer Anthony

Night falls over Guanajuato muting its vibrant stucco homes and coaxing a soft, warm wind through the narrow streets. Rooftop dogs begin the twilight bark-and-howl, catching up on the day’s gossip. Church bells ring out, and the sudden twinkle of yellow streetlights illuminates the town nestled into the valley below me.

Wednesday, 22 August 2007

The Vikos Aoos National Park: Greece's Wild and Beautiful Backcountry

Written by Michael Heins

Arriving after a long ferry ride from the island of Naxos, I dashed through Athens, and hopped on the intercity train that heads north toward some of the greatest natural wonders found in this mythic land.

Friday, 08 June 2007

When Globetrotting Solo, Know Your Roddick from Your Ronaldinho

Written by Erika A. Strauss

Click, swat, whoosh, smack . Repeat. Clap, Clap, Clap, Clap, Clap. "No!" Silence. Two heads acknowledged my entrance with a finger- to- lip, then returned to the glowing box above my Zambian hostel's bar. I dared only mime for a drink. Like a blind man, the bartender's hands fumbled with my request, his eyes transfixed to the screen.

Thursday, 12 April 2007

Discovering the Spanish Landscape

Written by Sol Ines Peca

While traveling through southern Andalucia, on the road from Sevilla, the region's capital, to the village of Casariche (about 130 kilometers away), I was reminded of earlier rural travelers I had heard about, who had never reached their destinations. They were victims of Bandoleros: armed men who would rob those passing through the southern mountain range of Sierra Morenain the 18th and 19th centuries.

Sunday, 25 February 2007

Rocks And Roadkill: Thoughts on Road Tripping in New Zealand

Written by Karen Elowitt

Guidebooks and advertisements perpetuate an image of New Zealand as a pristine, unspoiled territory, almost sterile in its purity – which on the whole it is. Soaring peaks rise above shimmering crystal-clear fjords, icy glaciers cut through craggy mountain passes, and picturesque herds of fluffy sheep lazily wander across the endless green rolling hills.

Thursday, 21 December 2006

Aftermath of Katrina: Still Standing Amidst a Land of Ruin

Written by Denny Kinlaw

In Buras, Louisiana, there are very few distractions. Electricity has been out for over a year with the exception of an occasional generator covered in mud and the only business open in a ten-mile radius is a gas station with a spray painted plywood sign that reads, “now open.” At night the locals gather there and drink $2 beers wrapped in plastic bags that the clerk sells from the back door.

Saturday, 21 October 2006

Solo Biking: Britain to Seville

Written by Bruce Berry

In early 2005 I decided that I wanted to return to Spain to live permanently. I had been stationed there during a stint in the military some years before. At the time I was working as an English teacher in Mexico. I love to cycle so I decided to do a little cycle touring before I settled down in Spain. Once I made the decision, I started to plan. I polished up my old mountain bike, tuned it, spent a lot of time buying panniers and equipment, and began to train.

Thursday, 31 August 2006

Key West: A Solo Voyage

Written by Michelle McAlister

At the end of a long relationship, I responded in my usual manner by planning a Great Escape. I hastily purchased a single airline ticket from a dubious internet site that guaranteed that, if I was willing to get myself to the airport for a 3 a.m. departure, I would reach distant, exotic Key West with only two insignificant stops in Dallas and Minneapolis.

Saturday, 01 July 2006

What Would Jane Do? A Literary Pilgrimage

Written by Julia Park

I’ve been to England twice before, to the beautiful Georgian city of Bath in particular, because as a Jane Austen aficionado, a “Jane-ite,” if you will, that’s what we do. We follow in her footsteps, we look for the Jane connection, and we read each of her six novels (and the juvenilia, the marginalia, and the letters) as if they were travelogues.

Monday, 01 May 2006

Written in Bone: An American Adventure

Written by Walter Williams

Listening to the wind whisper through the Missouri Breaks about 20 miles down stream from the ghost town of Virgelle, Montana, the words of Don Quixote flashed across my mind:

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