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There is a common trait among us travelers regarding the seasons: With the onset of spring, thoughts turn to traveling. It’s in our DNA. This can pose a conundrum for us, since another trait of the inveterate traveler is difficulty with deciding where to go next with limited resources (and they are always limited).This can provoke a lot of angst and indecision for us. For the next few posts, I’ll be examining the different ways travelers approach the big decision of the Next Destination in hopes that it will help some globe trotters who are hung up on the issue.
Things to think about are finite things such as time and money. Where is affordable? How far can my dollars stretch? Can I spend enough time there to really get a feel for the place, and still eat decently and sleep in a clean place? What’s the exchange rate? Dollars to pesos or pounds (Greece is a good deal these days)? Is a bed and meal cheap where you’re going? Are there budget options like hostels and humble, family-run B&B’s? As Americans, we’re the most time-poor people in the industrialized world, so will you be able to beg, steal, and borrow enough time to really get a feel for your destination?
If time is less of an issue than money (i.e. you’re an unemployed travel writer like myself) there are ways to get overseas and immersed in a culture while earning income, such as work-stays can be a good option; doing seasonal agricultural work on a family farm in exchange for room and board can lead to deep, rewarding cultural immersion (and a nice tan). If less labor-intensive jobs are to your liking, summer gigs at a resort or even a hostel can help pay the bills.
In the next post I’ll discuss some things you can do to help yourself pare your list down to a manageable level and really start planning an adventure to remember.
Cost/day: $50/day
What’s the strangest thing you’ve seen lately?
The Panama Canal. I sat on the observation deck for hours, watching in amazement as several ships passed through one of mankind’s greatest engineering feats – which saves ships the arduous 8,000 mile (12,875 km) journey around South America by connecting the Atlantic and Pacific Ocean.
Picture credit: Hans Kemp/Burmese Light
Visionary World from Hong Kong is about to release “Burmese Light”, a pictorial travel book assembled by photographer Hans Kemp and travel writer Tom Vater. The project is an attempt to capture the current changing situation of Myanmar, a country that, despite its troubled past, is making waves within travelers, researchers and scholars alike. I decided to ask some questions regarding the project – to hit the streets in May 2013 – to Hans Kemp, who has traveled the country on and off the beaten track and has packed this book with some incredible pictures. They will definitely intrigue and inspire many to follow his Burmese footsteps…
Why did you decide to capture a visual/textual snapshot of Myanmar at this present time?
Hans Kemp – I have been publishing illustrated books for a long time and the idea of doing a book on Myanmar has been there a long time. What made me decide to do it now was a combination of a growing interest in the country and therefore a better economic prospect for a book and the realization that Myanmar could soon be caught in a maelstrom of “progress and destruction” with the loss of old architecture and customs, to make place for high rises and KFC. (more…)
Picture credit: Flickr/ United Nations Photo
When I moved to Asia in 2007, I was still tied under the wheels of the Machine, back home. Everything I was doing, experiencing, and trying to translate into a piece of writing, or any other form of “artistic text”, I did so with the wish that someone, back home, would recognize my efforts and get me that publishing deal I had wished for so much in virtue of my brave choice of moving abroad.
Reality is often different from our dreams. Especially when coming from a culturally under developing nation such as Italy, where trying to be an “artist” is guaranteed to put a very sorry expression across any parental face. Back then, it was with a sense of scorn that I looked at all the rejections, the nos and the maybes, as it dawned on me that, wherever I may have roamed, I was destined to be a total failure.
Still, I put together a blog, I chose the best pieces out of it and edited them for good and self-published an Italian written book on my life as a teacher in small town China. I cannot say it was successful, as it was not. It was just barely ok not to hang the keyboard to the wall, and start playing badminton instead.
It was at that point that I travelled, and travelled, and travelled deeper and wider all across East Asia. When I finally stopped again, as Hank Williams put it “No more darkness, no more night. Now I’m so happy, no sorrow in sight. Praise the Lord, I saw the light …”
Facing the most sacred Buddha statue in the Lama temple of Beijing, China, I bowed down and I expressed my wish. Maybe I was thinking that through such a foreign surrogate I would have reached my own, white-faced version of God. Well, I was wrong. Those Asian ears were indeed openly listening to my call. Slowly – as good things do not happen overnight -, I found out that I had overlooked what was happening around me. Exactly in the place I was living THEN. Developing countries have plenty of opportunities. Otherwise, they would not be called as such, I guess?
Asian publishers are not much different from Western ones, but possibly, they accept submission, and you do not need an agent, or spend too much money on it. It is still a tough process, but at least you will get rejection letters. Sometimes even explaining what is wrong with your stuff. The hard work is still there, the results are, however, greatest in the East. In a single hard working year, I have published more than I ever did in the past 5 or 6, kicked off the road by frustration, rejection, and let me tell it, a great dose of assholism.
My suggestion to all the wannabe writers (and another cite to one of the best movies of all times): when there is no more room in hell, look around wherever you are, and start pitching left and right. Then, your articles and stories will walk the earth.
MARCO FERRARESE explored 50 countries and lives in Penang, Malaysia since 2009. He is currently a PhD candidate at Monash University’s Sunway Campus, Kuala Lumpur, researching the anthropology of punk rock and heavy metal in Southeast Asia. Besides his academic endeavors, he blogs about overland Asian travel and extreme music in Asia at www.monkeyrockworld.com
Picture credit:Flickr/WarzauWynn
A couple weeks ago I have witnessed something quite interesting: I won’t name the company, as this is not the place to make some free advertising, BUT I was quite entertained and shocked to learn that in Malaysia, someone has decided to teach people how to travel on a budget. Obviously, for a price.
I have attended the press conference of a Malaysian company that is offering “backpacking tours” to interesting Asian destinations such as Mongolia, India and Tibet, offering a full vagabonding adventure under the tutorial of a guide. They won’t pay for your meals, they will make you sleep in gers and tents, and they will teach you how to take great travel photography. Still, you will pay to get out of your comfort zone, and have fun learning the backpacking style under expert supervision. Cool, isn’t it?
I liked the idea: as many Asians I met complain about safety issues and high costs of travel, and seem to be alien to the concept of backpacking and traveling independently without buying a full package tour, this seems to be a welcome educational improvement coming from Malaysia.
I reflected that, in Asia, what we take for granted may not be the same: a stronger money and family ethic, and the fear of the unknown are common among the young. Plus, they struggle to create their own critical thinking identities. For sure, there are quite a number of Asian backpackers on the road already, including Japanese, Taiwanese, Malaysians, Chinese, South Koreans and some Indians. But I think that, as the majority prefers organized tours, by offering a modest package to understand adventure travel and backpacking ethics, this company has made a right choice in its market.
How do you consider such an idea in the West? Do you know of any Western companies offering this sort of educational backpacking travel? Please comment below.
MARCO FERRARESE explored 50 countries and lives in Penang, Malaysia since 2009. He is currently a PhD candidate at Monash University’s Sunway Campus, Kuala Lumpur, researching the anthropology of punk rock and heavy metal in Southeast Asia. Besides his academic endeavors, he blogs about overland Asian travel and extreme music in Asia at www.monkeyrockworld.com
We all know that most cities are desperate for tourism money in this lousy economy. Some are going to great lengths to generate interest. Now a PR man (or woman) has looked at a map and cooked up the tourism industry’s latest publicity stunt: Two towns, separated by an ocean and thousands of miles, plan to launch a joint promotional effort to entice tourists with a day of celebration that boldly promises to be a total snooze.
It all began when a UK traveler, passing through the west coast of America on vacation, happened upon a community with a name similar to his own hamlet back in Scotland. Before long, the Oregon town of Boring had itself a “sister city” called Dull, a tiny Scottish village.
A real town in Scotland. Pretty place. Not much in the way of nightlife, however.
Now an article in the UK paper Telegraph describes Boring and Dull’s plan to make August 9th— the anniversary of their union , or whatever—a mutual, transatlantic day of celebration of all things uninteresting. The intention is to draw free publicity to their respective communities’ charms. With a low population, rainy climate, and eight hours’ time difference, it is still unclear whether Boring and Dull’s event will be, well, eventful.
A jungle night is not quiet and the grey dawn was a rude awakening after a night of laying, late, beneath an ebony sky, drowning in the silver specks that pepper the universe. I wonder what we look like from light years away? We lay on the dock and watched for the last remnants of the Leonid meteor shower. We’ve watched it for years from wherever late fall finds us. Every year we tell the story of how Ezra thought, when he was three, that it was the Leonid “meat-eater” shower and was terrified that the universe would begin raining dinosaurs on our back yard.
“Look at the stars… look how they shine for you…” Hannah sang softly. Some of the travelers joined her. There was laughing and stories were swapped as Venus rose, like a diamond, above the jagged ink black wall of cliff that lines the lake. We’ve only seen stars like this a couple of times on our travels: deep in the jungle at Tikal, and on the cold dark sands of the Sahara. In the darkness the lake’s inky black mirrored the sky and the stars twinkled below, as well as above us.
Chieow Laan Lake is man made. Hydro-electric dams were built in 1982 and an enormous valley was flooded and a spider web of narrow inlets and deep crevasses were formed to create an unnatural wonder in the mountains of south western Thailand. It’s inside Koh Sak National Park, which was created to stop logging and protect the animal populations from poachers. The villages that dotted the valleys were relocated, land was granted and exclusive fishing rights to the lake designated to the original inhabitants.
For the few folks who take the time to find their way to the handful of raft house and tree-top eco-resorts on the lake, the reward is paid out in bird song and gibbon voices, insect drone and the occasional splash of lazy fish, breaking the surface. There are about ten villages with 20-30 bamboo houses each. Some newer ones are being built atop floating drums instead. There’s no fear of the lake being overcome with resorts like so many other places because development is tightly controlled by the government and the building can’t take place on land. It takes about an hour, from the pier on the dam, to the raft village we stayed at, by long tail boat. Long tail boats are classically Thai. They’re wooden boats with what look like car engines retrofitted with a long shaft propellor. Skimming across the surface of a flat calm lake they remind me of the tip of a cattail reed being along at an alarming rate by an angry dragonfly. It’s all fun and games until a dragonfly loses a prop; it dropped straight off the shaft, unrecoverable in the deep blue. Our boat and one other pulled alongside and while the men made the repair I noticed how very like drawings in a Dr. Seuss book the islands of Cheow Lan lake look. I almost expected to see a Lorax swinging with the monkeys between the trees.
Dawn breaks grey between the limestone cliffs, with mist trapped like cream in a tea cup until the sun’s long fingers stir it from the water’s surface, painting the world in blues that breathe and living greens. We took our tea cups into the boat and slipped out between the islands in search of wildlife before breakfast. There are wild elephants, two types of rhinoceros, tapir, monkeys of several varieties and a rainbow of birds that are protected within the national park, among many other things that we held our breath in the mist, hoping for a glimpse of.
The children whispered as we added Macaque monkeys to our list of primates seen in the wild. Two toucans, enormous ones, not the smaller ones like we saw at Tikal, swooped on black wings with sunlit yellow centers, like living stained glass windows to a branch above our heads. We listened as they talked; their deep, “Awk-Awk… Awk” echoed off of the cliffs around us four times, fading into the distance.
“This looks like Jurassic Park!” Gabe whispered as Tony leaned out to try to capture a toucan on film at just the right second. I took my eyes off of the birds for a second and studied the interlocking face of every shade of emerald that makes up the imposing wall that is the rainforest; a living shield around a fragile eco-system. Hannah says that all that these peaks are missing is a dragon to swoop down on leathery wings and strafe the valley with fiery breath; it certainly has the feel of another world, where dragons and giant lizards are possibilities, just beyond the filmy veil of reality.
Picture credit: Flickr/Alfred Glickman
After I read this article about motorbike travel in Indonesia, I started thinking of my own experiences: I switched the focus from great memories of incredible biking trips around Southeast Asia and India, and I considered my actual situation. I concluded that I could not lead the same comfortable life if it wasn’t for an old rattler of a motorbike I am driving around Penang Island since 2010.
To be honest, when I tell my foreign friends that I use a motorbike to get around town, I am confronted with skeptical stares: ”Oh man. That is dangerous.” And I do not blame them: the vision of rush hour traffic in most Asian cities may discourage the most hardcore city driver from hitting the road, and inspire safer options such as public transport or taxis. However, I think that by committing to learn how to handle the traffic, the long-term traveler can really increase his chances to blend in with the local city hustle.
Before I used the bike, I had to ask my girlfriend for rides, or use the erratic public transportation: this last option would have been ok if the buses showed up at the expected time. And when borrowing her car, parking was always a problem. One of the occasional perks was to get stuck in traffic at 32 Celsius degrees for longer than I had ever wished for.
I needed to get back my freedom of movements and time, and put both of them to greater use than to improve the art of cursing the next approaching driver. I decided to try to do what the locals did: so many of them were zooming past me blocked in traffic, wedging with dexterity among the oppressing lines of cars. It looked like the perfect solution to speed up my days, and possibly have some fun doing it. (more…)
Cost/day: $50-70 a day
What’s the strangest thing you’ve seen lately?
The collective depression of San Francisco’s denizens after their beloved 49’ers lost a thrilling Superbowl against the Baltimore Raven’s was a strange and unfortunate phenomenon to witness. Red-clad, boozed and bleary eyed folk sat in the few bars that bothered to stay open, mumbling incoherently to themselves and shaking their heads. It was a painful loss, given that the 9’ers had responded to a first half spanking and a 35 minute power outage by surging back and, very nearly, pulling off a preposterous comeback. But it wasn’t to be and, instead of partying in the delirium of a win, the city grumbled, cried, drank heavily and then went to bed early.
Impromptu sidewalk dance party. Not that strange in San Fran.
If you’re vagabonding in SEA and trying to get off the beaten track the Indonesian island of Sulawesi is a great place to do just that, especially during the low season of Dec. – Feb. There is a reasonably reliable network of bus service around the island but the roads are terrible and the rate of bus crashes seems (based on observation) higher than average for Asia. Not surprising, given the state of the roadways. If you can rent your own car, it’s a ticket to freedom on the island, but be prepared for people to be shocked that you’re driving yourself. Apparently everyone hires a driver or takes busses!
If you are looking for an excellent guide or arranger of further guides, Dodo Mursalim, in Makassar is your man. He’ll pick you up at the airport, deliver you at hellish hours, and even put you up in his house. He’s a wealth of information about Sulawesi and has uncanny connections all over the island. His email: donow77@hotmail.com
Rantepao is in the heart of the region of Tana Toraja, which should not be missed. Plan to stay several days to a week, slow down, explore, and try to see a funeral. Nicholas Pabara is a fantastic guide, he asked me to share his phone number with fellow travelers: 082-192-183-677. Having a local to tell you the stories, explain the history and find the out of the way things that you won’t find on your own is priceless. You’ll definitely want him to help you place a bet at the cock fights!
Bira is at the eastern tip of the northern arm of Sulawesi. It’s got a pleasant tourist slum with cheap accommodation, but if you head out of the tourist district to Bara Beach there are six little bungalows for rent on a deserted beach that are a little slice of heaven. A boat can be arranged to the facing island where the diving is world class. This is the place to kick back and relax for a few days away from the hustle of Indonesian cities.
Samalona island is listed as an afternoon trip from Makassar in some of the guides. A better bet would be to head out for three or four days and stay in the home of one of the seven families (all inter-related) who live on the island. To get there, take a blue bus to Fort Rotterdam, cross the street to the waterfront and the boatmen will find you. There is no electricity (a generator will be turned on in the evening) no running water, no shower, and no hot water, but it’s a welcome respite from the bustle of Indonesian cities and the snorkeling is pretty good. You’ll find the islanders welcoming, generous, and their fresh from the ocean cooking worth staying an extra day for. If you have an instrument, bring it, music is welcome in the evenings. It costs about $20 USD a night for lodging and three square; can’t beat that.
