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A friend just told me that she was already wrapping holiday gifts. Mind you, not just writing out her list, but checking off items. Not just buying gifts, but wrapping them.
Just as ahead of the game, it seems, are several websites—ready with gift recommendations for travelers, would-be travelers, or friends-of-travelers. Here are a few of the more intriguing ideas I’ve found (and not just blow-up pillows or passport holders):
• Aquapac Compact Waterproof Camera Case: A clear, waterproof case, so that you can shoot underwater with your own camera, not one of those poor-quality disposable gizmos. ($30. Posted on The Travel Writer’s Life.)
• Quik Pod DSLR: An extendable/collapsible, hand-held tripod that adds a bit more distance in those at-arm’s-length self-portraits. ($50. Posted on MSNBC.)
• USB Rechargable AA Batteries: Eco-friendly batteries that recharge from a USB port.
($18. Posted on Bright Hub.)
• BackTrack GPS Navigation System: A straightforward GPS unit with a compass-like digital face and geo-tagging to help you find your way. ($73.95. Posted on MSNBC.)
Then again, I’m also a fan of the simple ideas, like travel magazine subscriptions or a laminated wall map with dry-erase pens for trip-planning. Or even better, the altruistic and soul-satisfying ideas, like contributing to someone’s dream through DreamBank, which Perceptive Travel tipped me off to. Consider it a kind of registry for gifts not usually found at Macys or Pottery Barn—like trips to visit family in Argentina or to take a language course in Italy.
For more ideas, you might want to check out the gift guides posted at Concierge, Go Green Travel Green, BootsnAll, and Chicago Tribune.
When I took a meditation course at the Kripalu Institute (which offers a live-in volunteer option for anyone who might want to work, live, and study yoga in the Berkshires) back in 2007, my teacher pointed out that the popular mantra, Om nama Shivaya, is an invocation to Shiva, the god of change. “Change isn’t always positive,” she said. “So you can pray for change. Just be willing to accept the consequences.”
Now, with Mumbai hotels under terrorist attack and the Bangkok airport unexpectedly taken over by protestors, travel plans might suddenly face a visit from the god of change himself. What is there to do when things suddenly and rapidly gang aft agley?
Flight Network specializes in cheap, discounted last-minute fares in case you need to jet out of somewhere. Also check the local cheapie airlines:
Always have a backup hostel/hotel in case the first one is unexpectedly full or gone (I once broke into an abandoned building in Berlin because it was where a hostel was SUPPOSED to be, according to the LP guidebook). Local information booths can actually help you find last-minute places to stay: check train stations, bus stations, and, as a last resort, police stations. Always carry a CRISP American $50 bill stashed away somewhere; some SE Asian countries will not change US money if it has rips, tears, or looks bedraggled (notably: Bhutan, Myanmar).
Some train stations and airports allow you to sleep inside. Some throw you out. Find out which kind yours is if you have the last flight or train of the day (notoriously delayed or invisible). ALWAYS bring snacks with you on any bus/train/plane/boat trip. Especially in more meandering countries, a trip might unexpectedly take twice or even three times as long as predicted, and it saves having to depend on small children leaning in the windows of your train compartment, trying to sell you fried chicken.
As always, the most important thing to remember if sudden change throws a wrench in your works is: don’t panic. This is not insurmountable. If you are in immediate danger, attempt to get yourself out of the situation rapidly (for example, in a city under terrorist attack, leave the city to ANYWHERE outside the city) before making contingency plans. Keep your wits about you and avoid acting irrationally out of fear. Remember: chagne is neither good nor bad at its heart…it’s what you do with it that makes it one or the other.
Many vagabonders have at least dreamed of running a business that can be managed from anywhere with a reliable internet connection. Whether in the jungles of Borneo, the vast Gobi desert, or the ancient city of Petra, it’s business as usual. However, these road warrior venturists have one unique struggle: how to drum up new business while on the road?
In September, Alison conducted a fascinating interview with Ingo Fast, discussing how he takes his illustration business on the road. He mentions the difficulty of marketing while on the road, saying, “I simply couldn’t focus [as] well on promoting my work as I usually do…” However, there are solutions to this problem.
Internet marketing companies such as AdPropel and Spot Runner can help increase online exposure for vagabonders on the road or business leaders sitting in their corporate offices. These sites are an excellent solution for someone who is on the road because they require relatively little maintenance from the advertiser and work to effectively increase internet traffic and business promotion.
Of course, there are still other strategies to drum up new business. Lea covered some of these in May, including resources such as: industry forums,Twitter, blogs, and LinkedIn.
Combined with professional conferences, a quality website, and of course word-of-mouth advertising, a business can grow and flourish, even when a small business owner is shark diving in South Africa or trekking off into the great unknown.
If you find yourself in Chile, on the South American circuit between Machu Picchu and Buenos Aires, you’ve already gotten past the major hurdle—the airfare getting there. Need some ideas for getting more bang for your peso while you’re there?
Stay a while: Rent an apartment, and get the best of both worlds—get a better feel for the area and save money. In the capital city of Santiago, you’ll only pay about US$300-400/month. A house on the beach in El Quisco rents out for US$30-$60/night (low season/high season)—notice the extra pesos in your pocket when you split it among a group of friends and cook at home.
Befriend nature: Go rustic when you’re somewhere like Torres del Paine, a national park that just begs to be hiked. Thankfully, the decent number of campsites and refugios (rustic shelters) offer cheap and close-to-the-earth alternatives to hotels. At Las Torres, camping goes for US$6 (add a few more dollars to rent equipment) and the refugio is US$30 (full board), while the hostería is a whopping US$255.
Take the slow road: It’s a long country; bus it, when you have the time. If you compare options from Santiago to Punta Arenas, taking the ferry (from Puerto Montt) and flying (from Santiago) are about the same price, while taking the bus is much cheaper.
Remind them you’re a foreigner: Lucky you! As a foreign traveler you waive the 19% IVA tax on hotels. Just show them your passport and pay with foreign currency or a credit card.
But think like a Chilean: Book internal flights like a native Chilean would—through LAN’s Chilean website, instead of the US version. For example: rather than paying US$742 for a round-trip Santiago-Punta Arenas flight, you get it for US$113! And even when the ticket category is considered the same on both websites (”Flexible”), the ticket is a heck of a lot cheaper (US$406 instead of US$742).
Sometimes you feel like you’re at the mercy of train or bus timetables or, if you’re driving, scarily numbered streets or terrifying directions. Even with a GPS to help pinpoint your location, you may not know where you are or where you want to go.
So enjoy it!
Here is a short reading list (beyond Vagabonding, of course, which I still consider the very best reference for nomadism, and I’m not just saying that ’cause I work here) of books about getting lost:
While some people certainly do spend years living the vagabond life, many of them traveling with no definite plans to “settle down,” others set out on their adventures knowing that one day they’ll probably be back in what other people might call a normal routine. If you’re one of the people in that latter category, that may seem like a harsh reality - and it’s one you’ll have to face sooner or later.
Instead of dreading the post-trip part of your life, suffering silently in cube-ville and dreaming of buying the next cheap ticket you find no matter where it’s going, why not start thinking about the post-trip transition now? You can learn a lot from travelers who have gone before you and experienced something similar, so you don’t have to make the same mistakes. Plus, when you’re feeling down (for whatever reason) it always helps to know you’re not alone.
BootsnAll member bakpakaddict is thinking ahead, and although he and his girlfriend haven’t yet set out on their 9-12 month trip he’d like to know if other people have any tricks for dealing with the transition back to “normal” life.
I was wondering if anybody had any advice or words of wisdom on the subject of transitioning back to “normal” life after extended periods of travel. … How hard was it to find a job and get back into a routine? Where did you live and how did you afford it? Did you start job hunting while on the road? What did it feel like to make that transition back to “regular” life?
As Abha recently mentioned, some of the hardships of transitioning back after an extended trip aren’t things you can control - unless wearing a T-shirt that says, “Stop welcoming me back to reality” is an option for you. But there are certainly things you can do to make the transition back easier on yourself.
Do you have any post-trip experiences that would help bakpakaddict prepare for the inevitable? Any words of wisdom about what to do or what not to do? Come on over to the BootsnAll boards and share your thoughts on this topic.
Rory MacLean’s ‘The Oatmeal Ark‘ is part travel memoir, part historical fiction. Or maybe it’s part history book, and part travel fiction. It’s hard to pin this book down: it blurs the line between fact and fiction, past and present.
The book follows the fictional Beagan Gillean as he travels the world in search of a family history: from his great-grandfather’s homeland in Scotland’s Western Isles, and then in his family’s footsteps across the Atlantic to Nova Scotia, and clear across Canada, by water, to the West Coast. Traveling with Beagan are the ghosts of his great-grandfather, his grandfather and his father - each takes their turn narrating the story.
Historical fiction, however blurred, is a tricky thing to pull off: the antiquated dialogue is hard to master without seeming forced, and it’s easy to make a mis-step describing the details of daily life. That’s where the ambiguities of ‘The Oatmeal Ark’ are a major asset: since you can never be sure whether the ghosts are real, or simply figments of Beagan’s imagination, you don’t (or at least, I didn’t) find yourself nitpicking in the same way.
In others way, though, the ghosts are problematic. At times it can be a little difficult keeping track of the narrator’s identity: shifts are signaled only by subtle changes in font, as well as language and tone. The ghosts are often also used to fill information gaps - early Canadian history, for example - and the result can feel a little expository.
MacLean has some compelling insights into the forces that drive North Americans to seek out their ancestral lands. His historical scenes offer a powerful sense of the rawness of the “New World” when it was first being settled: of its harshness, but also of its vast possibilities. And the contrasting images of an early Atlantic crossing, by sail, with Beagan’s modern-day crossing aboard an enormous freighter, offer remarkably complementary visions of two very different, but equally grim, journeys.
I said earlier that historical fiction is tough to pull off, and that’s true: but for me, it’s the present-day aspects of this book that let me down.
Truthfully, I didn’t recognize the Canada that Beagan travels through, from an incredibly bleak, hopeless Cape Breton Island to an antagonistic Montreal, sharply divided along linguistic lines. True, Cape Breton has long been economically marginalized - and true, Quebec separatism was a major issue in the mid-1990s, when MacLean was doing his research for this book. But at times, the story takes the “current affairs” of the day and applies them too literally to everyday Canadian life.
At the end of the day, my verdict on this book, like its precise genre, is hard to pin down. There are moments of immense beauty, and some wonderful insights. There are also times when the story seems forced, the history lessons wedged uncomfortably into the narrative.
Still, I think anyone with an interest in traveling to their ancestral homeland - particularly if that homeland happens to be Scotland - might enjoy giving ‘The Oatmeal Ark’ a read.
I remember cutting out a magazine ad years ago. It showed an elderly couple, in their robes in recliners, with a quote: “Remember that time we almost went to Europe?”
My question to you: What will it take for you to go on your dream trip?
I’m as guilty as the next. My dream destination is Tibet, but I figure it should be visited at the same time as India and Nepal, which quickly takes it from the ‘manageable’ category to ‘big trip’ category. Suddenly, it’s more daunting and even easier to put off. Then again, few destinations are changing as quickly as Tibet, which means that I should head over, oh, yesterday.
It usually comes down to cost and time, right? You want to be responsible by waiting until the right time, so you don’t go into debt or abandon your obligations (believe me, I’m not bashing either). But let’s play devil’s advocate: what are the chances that you’ll get a sack of money, or that your boss will unexpectedly offer up six months of working remotely?
I could list all of the practical tips to make it happen, but somehow I think you already know them: set aside a little extra cash each month, get some of your supportive friends to remind you, break down your big goal into mini-goals on a timeline, etc. Probably the best thing is to keep conscious of your priorities—re-shuffling the trip towards the front of the deck, when other obligations are continually being added to the pile.
You know what needs to be done—make it happen. And do me a favor: remind me about Tibet, okay?
The unfortunate other side of my previous post (about sex on the road): getting dumped. A nomadic lifestyle leads you to meeting and getting attached to lots of new people, many of whom are specifically drawn by your wandering ways and seemingly romantic presence. You’re in and out of their lives like a fairytale hero(ine), with your rugged jawline and backpack full of grubby, mysterious possessions…
My friend Christine told me her dad ran away to Vancouver when he was 16, and when he was 23, decided to jog across Canada to raise money for the mentally and physically disabled. He made it and met her mom in the process. She, in her turn, inherited both a great love for her dad (who wouldn’t?) and his wanderlust; as she says, “Being a traveler, I have never been able to restrict myself to only falling for people within a 15-kilometre radius of where I live.” But it’s hard for a lot of lovers to understand the wandering lifestyle, and even if you’re totally honest about your intentions and goals (and even if you ask them to join you on your travels), sometimes that can lead to mismatched expectations, unexpected revelations, and someone getting their heart broken.
So how do you deal with a broken heart on the road?
Well, assuming you haven’t been stranded in the mountains of Kyrgystan after a shouting match that alarmed the locals, try to remain on as civil terms with your ex-loved-one as possible. You were friends for a reason. Remember that as you part your ways. They have good reasons for leaving, no matter how much you might not want them to go; respect their emotions and resist the urge to pester them with “But why?” if they’ve already explained why.
On the road, it’s harder to contact your support group, since they might all be far away; resist the urge to get drunk and find a rebound partner by calling or emailing your best friends. Even if you’re a dude and you don’t share your feelings. Consider writing in a journal or a letter; DON’T write in your blog, since you will almost certainly regret it later.
Be kind to yourself, as if you were sick: take it easy and consider staying in one place for a little longer, to give yourself the comforts of familiarity. Buy your favorite foods. Treat yourself to a massage. Resist the urge to write long tearful letters to your now-ex. Or better, write them, and then burn them. Remember: you chose your lifestyle for a reason, because it was the only way you could be (or the preferable way). If you got dumped for another reason entirely — that is, one having nothing to do with your wandering ways — the same applies. You are who you are, and sometimes that just doesn’t work with someone else.
Eat chocolate, go jogging, distract yourself. If you’re traveling with friends, go out and enjoy some time with them (I’d avoid a Thai brothel while you’re feeling vulnerable and fragile, though). Alcoholics Anonymous has an adage: one day at a time. And that’s how you can go. Each day is fresh, whether it’s with your loved one or not: try to see potential in every corner, every space, and rest assured that you will find love again. As my dad says, “If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen.” About 25 years ago, he broke up with a woman he loved but it just wasn’t working out; last year, they found each other randomly and started dating again.
Getting dumped is no fun, but it’s not the end of the world. One foot in front of the other, and before you know it, you’ll be watching the sun rise off Kilimanjaro and feeling just a smidge better.
Andy Howard has a good work system going. What’s consistent is his work as a website designer, strategist, and consultant. What’s not is where he sets up his work station. So far, in his seven months on the road, the Aussie has worked while traveling through Asia, the US, Central America, and he’s now making his way through Europe. He kindly answered a few questions from his current outpost, in London.
What was the biggest surprise about remote working?
How many people ask ‘what are you doing?’ when they discover a guy with a weird accent typing/designing/Skyping in a strange location–for instance in a shopping centre or ski lodge. I usually answer with ‘working,’ which results in all sorts of responses. I had an American in upstate New York abuse me, telling me what I was doing wasn’t work. Ha.
Does the fact that you’re traveling change how you keep clients or get new clients? Or is it the same as if you’re back at home?
The only change from being at home is that I can’t network face-to-face–but I can network quite effectively online so the principles stay the same. It’s just the medium that changes.
Do you have a certain work routine, or does it change by location/project/day?
This is what I was most unsure about when I set off. For me, the routine changes by location and the projects vary the volume. Here in London, I like swimming at midday in a heated outdoor pool (the only outdoor pool in the city!), so I work early mornings, have a break during the day, then work into the evening. In other locations, the routine is completely different. The waves were usually good in Central America at about mid-morning, so I’d start work in the early evening, work late until about 2 a.m., and rise later in the morning at around 10 a.m. in time for a surf. No matter what the routine, the workload always fits if the time is managed well.
Any advice for others wanting to telecommute from the road?
Do it. If you’re fairly independent and can work remotely, chances are it’ll work for you. Before you leave, nail down your back-office processes and get everything rocking along such that your operation is as automated as possible. Make sure you have plenty of spending money and some cash reserves to get you through any tough times. Then, give it a shot. Get out there. Travel. See the world. Go to far and away places you never thought you’d go (an organic farm in the countryside of Lithuania comes to mind). Connect with people. Take inspiration from your surroundings, both people and places. Live like a nomad. Don’t buy anything you can’t carry. Rid yourself of material possessions you don’t need–you’ll value personal relationships and experiences more. When people ask why I’m drifting around, working from anywhere with wifi (and some places without) I usually answer ‘why not?’. If you want to do it, you can make it happen.
