During a one week swing through Switzerland two years ago, I took a bus from Interlaken to a train, to a tram which rose to an elevation of 10,000 feet amongst the jagged mountain peaks of the Swiss Alps.
My destination? A rotating restaurant on Schilthorn peak, which was built for the James Bond movie "Her Majesty's Secret Service." It was there that I enjoyed my one and only lunch atop the Swiss Alps.
Troy has invited me a half dozen times to visit India since he decided to meet up with our friend Christine there next month. It was a tempting invitation, given how much fun the three of us had in Medellin, but I replied that I wasn't ready. I needed more time to lapse, as though two and a half years isn't enough to recover from the stresses of travel on that great subcontinent.
I almost didn't go the first time, in 2008. I'd been talking to backpackers who made the trip from India, and most described Nepal as cleaner, the people friendlier. My anxieties were getting the best of me.
As luck or fate would have it, a Canadian woman appeared atop the Pokhara mountain where I was enjoying breakfast with a Himalayan view one morning. Her advice was to "go with the flow," as though the exact four words have been passed on to first-time travelers to India for generations.
I made up my mind in that instant to see the country for myself. I spent 7 weeks crossing India from the northeast corners of Sikkim to the northwest border with Pakistan. And I had many amazing spiritual experiences until the poverty, inefficiencies, heat, pollution, cows, public urination, dust, and touts utterly exhausted me. When I flew from New Delhi to Thailand, I didn't see myself returning to India for years or decades, if ever.
Then I read these words a few weeks ago:
It took me a long time and most of the world to learn what I know about love and fate and the choices we make, but the heart of it came to me in an instant, while I was chained to a wall and being tortured. -- Shantaram
And with that irresistible opening salvo, I was immediately sucked into the world of an Australian escaped convict in 1980's Bombay. Gregory David Roberts was that convict, and Shantaram is the novel he wrote after ultimately being recaptured by police in Germany.
The actual events of the author's life were so dramatic that I read the book as though the whole story and all the characters were true to life. Of course they are not, however it's to the author's credit that he can take you along on such a wild ride, and get you feeling the emotional up's and down's of Lin, the protagonist. And there are many.
Immediately upon stepping off the bus in Bombay, Lin meets a tout named Prabakar, whose big smile he takes an immediate liking to, and thus, the adventures begin. In these first minutes in the city, he also encounters Karla, a Swiss woman who captures his heart.
After Lin is robbed, Prabakar invites him to live in the village where he grew up. There, he picks up the local language, which comes in useful throughout the years. Here, we experience the customs of rural life in a typical Indian village, and Prabakar's mother dubs Lin with the name Shantaram, meaning "man of peace."
Upon his return to Bombay, Lin goes to live in Prabakar's slum, which is about the only standard of living he can afford at the time. He starts to make money by helping tourists buy drugs -- hashish mostly.
Interestingly, he begins treating the slum-dwellers for minor illnesses and injuries out of his tiny home, which becomes a makeshift clinic. His descriptions of life in the slum were my favorite part of the book, as the author spent time living in a Bombay slum, operating a free clinic. He continues to pursue Karla, at least in his mind, because living in a slum is hardly conducive to building romantic relations, at least with a Western woman.
The book takes a significant turn when Lin gets picked up by the local police and imprisoned. As disturbing as the descriptions of the Indian prison were, this was also a part of the story I found riveting. Eventually, he's bailed out by a mafia kingpin, at which point he goes to work as a counterfeiter, smuggler, and gunrunner to repay his debt.
The scenes of fighting and violence became more frequent, and every chapter seemed to feature grisly murders that were all too detailed in their descriptions. Around the 600-page mark, I felt as though the book had already climaxed, which left a lot more reading to do before the unanswered questions in Lin's life were resolved. Ultimately, I was satisfied with the way the novel ended, though a few people on Twitter commented that it was a mess.
At 936 pages, Shantaram is the second-longest book I've ever read, and I devoured it in under two weeks.
Having been to India once already, the book brought back memories as I related to the characterizations of Indian people, such as their famous head waggles. The more I read, the more I appreciated the country I'd almost skipped over entirely.
I remembered my first chai, bought for me by Indians on my first (overnight) train ride. My fondness for the Bollywood movies and the amazement that women dressed in colorful saris could seem so graceful amidst trash-strewn streets. By the end of the book, I was ready to book a flight back to India.
My return will have to wait, however, as I've already invested in other plans for 2011. I do know that it will be a lot sooner than I expected as a result of reading Shantaram.
PS - You can learn more about the author, David Gregory Roberts, on the book's website. He is working on the sequel to Shantaram and hopes to have it published by late 2011. He then intends to write a prequel, followed by a fourth and final installment.
I am a WWOOF'er. I WWOOF. I am part of the WWOOF'ing community.
Get it?
Neither did I a year ago. As it turns out, this organization has become the savior of my travels in Canada.
WWOOF stands for 'World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms', and it is possible to get involved with this in dozens of places dotted around the globe.
You choose a country, sign up on their website (often for a reasonably small fee) and you are then showered with possible farms to work on in exchange for free accommodation and meals.
This was an ideal situation for me. Having had several financial blips in saving for my trip to Canada over the last year, anything free is a bonus.
Accommodation and food are the only absolute essentials when it comes to travel, and both can often drain your bank account.
Additionally, for the Canadian organization, participation does not require a working visa. WWOOF'ing is a perfect opportunity for anyone looking for inexpensive travel, and it can be a highly rewarding experience.
So, back in August, three months before I was set to fly out to Vancouver, I started hunting for farms.
A plethora of options were open to me in British Columbia alone, from Icelandic horse farms, cattle ranches, herb, crop, and vegetable harvesting, to building ecohouses on top of a mountain and much more.
I wasn't too fussed about the kind of work I was looking for, but dairy farming was definitely in my top five choices.
If I could combine my love for cheese with volunteering in Canada, I was a happy lady.
And I hit the jackpot when Goats Pride Dairy Farm in Abbotsford, BC swiftly replied to my request for work.
Life here on the Goats Pride is an enlightening and sometimes challenging experience.
Having neither worked on a farm nor had much contact with farm animals before, I wasn't too sure what to expect.
As it turns out, this farm has hosted over two hundred WWOOF'ers in five years, so it seems I've come to the right place.
The daily routine includes participation in either or both 6 am and 4:30 pm chores, which include milking and making sure the goats are fully fed and watered.
Volunteers also rotate turns to work full days helping out in the dairy, where all the magic happens; the cheese.
In between chores, the rest of the day is filled with seeking out the work you wish to contribute to, which allows you to focus on a particular aspect you were wanting to gain more experience in.
For me, I've mostly been touching up on my cooking skills with Goats Pride's mother-hen, Jo-Ann.
I am now fully confident in my ability to make a thoroughly enjoyable cinnamon bun.
The season in which you volunteer can change your entire experience with WWOOF'ing.
Some farms have little or no need for workers in Winter, this of course not being the case with a farm that keeps animals as there is demand all year round.
At particularly cold times, I sometimes wonder why it was that I chose to come out here in these months.
On most days, I get up in the dark, and I finish in the dark.
This, of course, can be the same case in an urban area, the difference here being that the icy, crisp and fresh air I breathe in once I step out into the country always makes me feel invigoratingly alive.
Having spent three weeks touring cities, including Vancouver, Victoria, and Seattle, and spending money faster than I could have anticipated, a break in the country was just what I needed.
This complete change of scenery has broadened my perspective on living an impact-free lifestyle.
By that, I mean that the community we have built here, which consists of seven family members and up to seven WWOOF'ers at any one time, tries to make sure that we carry out the principles of sustainable living as much as possible.
Almost everything is recycled and used to its full potential, from waste food that goes to the goats or used as compost, fertilizer sold to other local businesses, clothes, packaging, endless jams and juices and more than I could possibly list.
As well as the work, let's not forget the play. WWOOF'ing is a fantastic way to experience a way of life in terms of the people you stay with as well as the farming.
I was lucky to find a very large close-knit family to enjoy the company of, and I am honored to be welcomed in and shown their Canadian way of life.
As much as meeting other travelers can be exhilarating, to come over to a country and see the way the locals live from day-to-day is a memorable and unique experience.
This is especially the case when staying in a place that strives to be self-sufficient and eco-friendly.
Being part of the process of taking produce from the goat to our kitchen table in a variety of forms, including milk, yogurt, and cheese, has given me a greater awareness of where the things I put in my belly come from.
WWOOF'ing is a great way to understand and be part of the ethics involved in the farming and food industry, an alternative experience for any traveler.
If you imagine that no two farms will be the same, the possibilities are endless. And not a penny will leave your pocket.
__________
About the Author: Emma Higgins' addiction to travel started with an inter-railing trip around fourteen countries in Europe in the summer of 2009. Her 2010 travels included a whistle-stop tour of Northwest India, a brief visit to Marrakech and two months in British Columbia, Canada.
Her blog is based around my travels and the cultural comparisons she comes across, but whilst at home, she writes for all the other young and penniless travellers out there (she's only 22!), and about the trials and tribulations of being stuck in ones mothercountry, itching to leave. You can catch up with Emma on her blog, Gotta Keep Movin'...
During my time in South Africa, I visited several souvenir markets and shops, especially at the start on Long Street in Cape Town, and toward the end in the suburbs of Johannesburg.
Wooden dolls from countries all around Africa were plentiful, so the casual shopper had only to decide which style he/she liked the most. That style would invariably be the hallmark of a particular culture and country. Go to enough markets, and see enough dolls, and you'll soon be able to discern which items come from which nation.
The dolls vary in significance. One common purpose, such as the the one I purchased, is protection.
Aside from a few domestic trips to New York City and Los Angeles, my big international adventures of the year were a week in Rwanda, and six months in Colombia.
The Rwandan adventure involved two days of travel to and from the country, but it was worth the energy and effort when I was in a forest snapping photos of wild gorillas, cruising across Lake Kivu on a new speedboat, and soaking in the bathtub of a luxury villa.
My return to Colombia began with two and a half weeks of rest and relaxation in Cartagena.
I then made my way back to Medellin, where I met nine new travel bloggers, and took a few short trips to other parts of the country, including Cali, a snow-capped volcano, and the coffee region.
On tomorrow's agenda, the best photography posts of the year. Stay tuned!
In 2010, contributors wrote several of this blog's most popular posts of the year, as measured in terms of visitors, comments, and social media sharing.
They also helped to cover a wide range of topics beyond my own experiences and expertise.
Below are 15 of the most popular, written guest contributions published in 2010, ranked in relative order based on the number of visits:
If you're interested in sharing your favorite travel story or best advice in 2011, please check out the submission guidelines.
Tomorrow, I'll share my favorite posts from my adventures in Rwanda and Colombia.
Here I am, sitting at my parent's kitchen table, sipping hot chocolate and reflecting on the year 2010. What a ride it's been, for both me and the blog!
This post recounts my personal experience as a full time travel blogger. For the remainder of the week, posts will highlight the best stories, photography, and videos featured on Go Backpacking in 2010.
If you're new to the blog, this week is a great chance to catch up!
Rwanda Trip - On February 12th, I announced that I was going on a week long media trip to Rwanda, the Country of a Thousand Hills.
The opportunity to see endangered mountain gorillas in the wild was unreal -- the kind of experience I'd dream of when flipping through adventure travel catalogs just a few years ago.
Learning about the 1994 genocide touched on a whole different set of emotions.
Los Angeles - I met Stefanie Michaels (@AdventureGirl) on the Rwanda trip, and soon after our return, went to visit her in LA. It was my first time visiting the City of Angeles.
We spotted a bunch of stars including Jessica Biel, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Fred Savage.
I indulged in the sushi of Katsuya, remembered James Dean, and recounted scenes from Swingers at The Dresden.
New York City - I made 3 trips to the City That Never Sleeps, however the one that stands out the most was for the 2010 Travel Blog Exchange conference in June.
Rarely do hundreds of travel bloggers come together in one place on this planet for any length of time, so it was a fun opportunity to put (Twitter) names with faces.
Earlier in the year, I also found myself at Blue Ribbon Sushi for a terrific lunch on a snowy winter's day.
Return to Colombia - After TBEX, I returned to one of my favorite countries, Colombia, for the remainder of the year.
I began by relaxing in Cartagena and then made my way back to Medellin, known as City of the Eternal Spring.
During my trip around the world from late 2007 to early 2009, I had the occasional opportunity to meet up with other travel bloggers.
These encounters excited me because I knew the people were like me -- enamored with both travel AND blogging.
I could count the number of these people on one hand, over 15 months.
In 2010, I met dozens, if not a hundred or more travel bloggers in person. Since I can't name them all here, I want to share a few people with whom I spent the most time.
Stephanie @20stravel - Stephanie co-hosted the DC travel tweetups with me, so in addition to connecting online, we had a monthly excuse to hang out at local bars. She's now enjoying her own RTW trip!
Troy @foggodyssey - Troy had already written some of this blog's most popular posts of the year by the time I met him in Medellin. He's an amazing photographer, and hanging out with him and learning to use Lightroom in the process contributed to a quantum leap in my photography skills this year.
Christine @almostfearless - I met Christine, along with husband Drew and baby Cole, when she visited Medellin to interview me for her video documentary on digital nomads. I was glad they stayed for 3 weeks so we could share a few adventures together.
Benny @irishpolyglot - Benny from Fluent in 3 Months spent the end of his year in Medellin, and he was a very positive influence on my efforts to learn Spanish. Namely, I became a lot less self-conscious about speaking, and am encouraged about working toward fluency in 2011.
This year I grew my travel blogging activities into a business that could support me while living abroad.
As of this week, I met my goal of earning $3,000 per month ($36,000 for the year).
It's far less than I earned at my job as a Customer Service Manager for a health insurance company back in 2007, but the freedom it affords is priceless.
I share my earnings publicly because I continue to meet people who question whether you can earn money from having a blog, let alone earn a living.
While I've been at this for 4 years, and I certainly didn't reach this point overnight, it is possible.
As the travel blogging niche matures and gains credibility, and more "how to" resources become available, it's increasingly possible to see results much faster than me.
Go Backpacking - While the blog brought in considerably more money via advertising this year, the number of monthly visitors remained fairly flat, and well short of my goal for 50,000 per month. On the bright side, the number of subscribers grew by 350%, and there were lots of great guest contributions.
In 2011, my goal is to better curate the stories, photos, and videos to ensure you're not only enjoying them, but excited to share them via Facebook and social media.
Travel Blog Success - Building an online course and community from scratch ain't easy, however after 4 months of work, I launched my first digital product. Over 100 travelers have become members, and the feedback continues to be overwhelmingly positive 11 months later.
In 2011, my goal is to continue building upon these resources while helping other bloggers reach their goals and easily connect with quality advertisers.
Medellin Living - Returning to Colombia, I regained the reigns of Medellin Living. The frequency and consistency of new posts lead to a doubling of monthly traffic to 5,000 visits. The site also began to make money, mostly as a result of me upselling advertisers from Go Backpacking.
Private Consulting - I had my first two clients this year, and intend to continue offering my support on a limited basis.
I'm dedicating January to redesigning and adding lots of new content to Travel Blog Success. Thankfully (albeit by design), I enjoy this kind of work.
I'll be spending the first two weeks of February in Japan, and then February 15th sees me heading back to Medellin for another 6 months.
By mid-August, I intend to set off on a new adventure to see the rest of South America.
The following is a guest post by Amy Hamblen, regarding her experience visiting Jack Kerouac in Lowell, Mass. If you’d like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Dashing back and forth across the country with his friends to meet new girls and pursue all kinds of madness throughout the day and night, who couldn’t fall in love with Sal Paradise in On the Road?
He and his friends were digging life like we all want to: with a knife and fork and swallowing it whole. They were searching for new highs with a case of wanderlust so bad that a dose of any experience would whet it and an overdose of an adventure so big it could suppress it didn’t exist. They were my heroes in college, my role models after and now they are the saints I scream all my existential questions to.
It was Kerouac who left a seat open for all of us on these road trips, and it was his hometown I took the opportunity to see during the Lowell Celebrates Kerouac festival. I was living in the South Shore of Massachusetts in October, 2008, far away from Mexico City, the setting of my favorite book of his, “Tristessa,” but only an hour’s drive from Lowell, his birthplace, and the setting of five of his other books.
When I arrived, the tour-goers had gathered outside the now-closed Caffé Paradiso which was hosting a marathon reading of The Dharma Bums, since 2008 marked the 50th anniversary of its publication. There were 20 or so other people who wanted to see Jack’s old haunts.
Here’s where I wish I could say that I made a new set of lifelong friends who share a love of the same kind of liberating works of impassioned writing as I do, but it’s painfully clear to me that I’m not really good at these kinds of things. I was more than happy to join them, though.
We began the tour, and as our guide, Roger Brunelle, splashed brilliant stories on each Kerouac –affected landmark, it reminded me that even Kerouac came from somewhere; Lowell just happens to be the town he grew up in. Maybe this was where he had those first big dreams of who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do with his life.
Walking past his high school, where he played football, and the Lowell Sun, where he did a short stint as a sports reporter, made the town feel small. It reminded me of my own little somewhere that I was anxious to burst out of while I was growing up.
The last spot on our tour was the Jack Kerouac Commemorative. Beautifully conceived by artist Ben Woitena, the site structurally integrates religion with Kerouac’s writings. Quotes from Jack’s beloved books are etched on tall slabs of granite. Several of the quotes are from Kerouac’s Lowell books including Dr. Sax and Visions of Cody, and of course one of the panels has a quote from On the Road. Sleek curved benches encircle the granite panels. In the middle of the memorial there is also a seat for you to sit and reflect, and if you are patient, you can try to find your own center.
After the tour there was one more spot I had to see, so I took a solo journey to Edson Cemetery. I walked awhile among the gravestones, expecting to see a shrine or a flock of onlookers to guide my eyes in the right direction, but there was none. After a little bit of a search, I finally found what I came for, it was the fitting, humble marker with the engraved words “Ti Jean” (Little John) that marked the spot.
It was the perfect place to pay my respect for the seeker and teacher whose inspiration was so loud I couldn’t help but hear it as a young woman in the Midwest, a thousand miles away and over 30 years after his road brought him here.
Messages and tokens of love from others who had been touched by Kerouac’s thirst for life were left behind. I took a moment to appreciate the man, his life and his gifts. I scribbled my own note and left it with the others.
__________
About the Author: Amy Hamblen grew up in the Midwest, but found a good fit in Queens. Although her cuisine has changed from bluegill to bibimbap, she’s still up to her old tricks: trekking to concerts, watching low-budget films, and finding new places to get lost. She writes for www.shortandsweetnyc.com.
Long time readers know that I asked people to dare me to do various activities on my trip around the world. My last dare dates back to December 2008, when I ate sheep's head (specifically tongue and brain) in Soweto, South Africa.
Since then, the program had all but been retired, until that is, I was visiting the Colombian pueblo of Guatape with Go Backpacking contributor, and my friend, Troy from FOGGOdyssey this past August. While we were waiting in the main square for another friend to arrive, he dared me to eat a regional delicacy known as chunchurria, or intestines.
The reward for completing this dare? Enough money to cover the cost of the dish, or about $1 to $2.
As with the rest of my dares, this was more a matter of pride than money, so I ordered a plate. The female vendor was busily snipping the long pieces of intestines into more bite size segments using a pair of scissors. The scene was as unappetizing as it looks in the photos.
The chunchurria was served on a small plate, with potatoes and an arepa.
I sat down and mentally prepared myself, while Troy grabbed my camera and set about recording the experience on video (a video of my many contorted facial expressions...I'm sparing you from watching).
I poked one of the intestinal bits with a toothpick, and began to nosh on it. And chew. And bite. And grind.
Nothing.
I chewed on the same piece for almost five minutes, getting nowhere in breaking it apart. It was as if I were chewing on a bicycle inner tube that tasted like....well, intestines. It soon became unnerving that I couldn't swallow the chunchurria. I ate a potato, and bit a piece of the dry arepa, but none of it helped me break down the intestine. I didn't even have a drink to try and wash away the awful flavor that now filled my mouth.
Eventually, I spit out the intestine, which was 100% intact, and accepted my failure.
Later, I learned from a Colombian that rubbery chunchurria is a sign that it is undercooked. I may give it another try some day, but I certainly won't be seeking it out any time soon!
Editor's Note: Last year, I featured a few of my memorable souvenirs (Thai Beer Can Tuk-Tuk and Tibetan Prayer Wheel) from a trip around the world. They were a lot of fun to share, so I'm bringing the idea back as a series every other Saturday.
I tend to be cautious when buying souvenirs, especially in countries known for haggling.
I'm always concerned about getting ripped off or getting inferior quality knock-offs of the real thing.
The most popular souvenir from Agra, India, home to the Taj Mahal, is marble with inlay designs similar to what you'll find on the Taj Mahal itself.
The objects come in all shapes and sizes, from little boxes and plates to end tables, and pieces of furniture.
If you visit the Taj Mahal, chances are you'll end up in at least one marble shop, if not several.
Tuk-tuk drivers love to take tourists to them as they get kickbacks in the form of money or gasoline.
The key to avoiding fake marble is opacity. Real Agra marble is opaque, and will not let light through.
The legitimate marble shops will be happy to demonstrate their quality goods by turning the shop lights off and holding a lamp or flashlight up against their products.
I bought a little plate, and a small box, trying to keep the size and weight of my souvenirs to a minimum.
However, the much more massive objects available, such as end tables, were often reasonably priced, and the shops could arrange for international shipping at the time of sale.
If I recall correctly, a marble end table with a beautiful design on top might cost around $200.
Of course, this is a lot of money in India, but for Americans and Europeans, in retrospect, it's a steal.
There is the added shipping cost to consider, but overall, buying a larger marble souvenir from Agra is one of the few shopping regrets I had upon arriving home from my trip.
Taking photos of cute dogs in exotic places is a favorite subject of mine. Oftentimes, they can be seen lazing around on beaches, mountains, or city sidewalks.
I imagine a dog hanging out by the pyramids in Egypt has no sense of how amazing the surrounding scenery is to us humans around the world. He or she is simply focused on the daily essentials of a dog's life: water, food, sleep, human attention, and sex for all those non-fixed dogs.
This photo essay is dedicated to Tobias, my Colombian roommate's old, black, arthritic Labrador, who lies quietly around the apartment, keeping me company as I work.
The following is a guest post by Robert J. Fry. If you'd like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Shimla is not only the perfect retreat from the hustle and bustle of India's many metro centers and tourist hot spots, it’s also an escape from the insufferable heat of the plains. Since 1819, when it was rediscovered by the British, it has been touted as a prime summer getaway. With its cool mountain breeze, hills blanketed by thick pine trees, and a town center dotted with crumbling colonial charm, it's not hard to imagine why. The people are friendly, the vultures are few, and the surrounding landscape is breathtaking.
Shimla is a hill station, meaning that instead of being situated at the base of the mountain or in a valley, it is carved into the mountaintop. You can appreciate the sheer altitude with just one short stroll so arrange for a hotel that’s closer to the bus station. When exploring “the mall” (otherwise known as Shimla’s main street), however, get ready to walk because vehicles are prohibited. Although Shimla can be a physically draining place, you’ll also find that things here move at a slow and pleasant pace. Stores and shops sleep in too, and so will you.
On my last visit there, I picked up a copy of Ernest Hemingway's 'The Old Man and the Sea' at a local bookstore for about 50 cents. I was ecstatic, having wanted to read this story for a very long time. So instead of a gloomy bar stifled with smoke, as Hemingway himself would have frequented, I found an open-air rooftop bar with mountain views and clean, fresh air to read. I sat in a corner booth, ordered a beer with chaser, and let the long awaited journey begin. But then, as I had barely got into the 85th day of Santiago's unlucky streak, I was set upon by two animated youths.
"Awes-trey-lee-HAH?" they inquired, loudly enough to stir a grumpy bar dweller by the restroom.
"Yes," I admitted. What happened next was strange, as the taller of the two looked left and right, as if watching a tennis match only he could see, before letting out an almighty bellow.
"RICKKKYYY PAWNTEN!"
It was clear that he had learned the name of the Australian Cricket Captain from the commentators that are so popular in this part of the world. They sound and act in an exaggerated manner, much like a televangelist would, which should come as no surprise as this is India, and thus, cricket is religion.
At this point in time, I had been in India for over 6 weeks and was getting used to friendly locals in search of free beers (a particularly common scam in Varanasi). These two were refreshingly unique in that they not only paid for their own drinks but they also covered mine, in addition to a couple of snacks. "Please,” one of the pair named Deepak said. ”You are our friend, very good friend. It is a gift to you." As he said it, he rolled his head from side to side as a smile spread across his face. It was the classic Indian head wobble, another characteristic I’d become accustomed to.
While it may feel like a world away from hectic big city life, hot dusty plains, and the Hindu heartbeat of Uttar Pradesh, Shimla is still very much India. A part of India that is clean, safe, ridiculously picturesque and a welcome retreat for many chaos and clutter weary ex-pats who've come to call the subcontinent home.
___________
About the Author: Robert J. Fry is a recent graduate and penniless travel writer. He enjoys bumming around, the hobo lifestyle and Grateful Dead t-shirts. He has been described as reckless, foolish and absurd - often in one sentence (like this one). Follow his progress at his personal blog, Global Drifter.
The following is a guest post by Jennifer Tice. If you’d like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Besides being able to save those hard earned dollars for a rainy day, there are many reasons why you should avoid traveling, stick to what you know, and not indulge your curiosities about the world.
I mean who wants to experience new cultures, meet new people, spend time at the wonders of the world, or lazing on the beach anyways?
Ok, who are we kidding, there isn’t anything more exciting than traveling the world, and after 15 months of doing so I wouldn’t have traded those hard earned dollars for anything else.
But even on the best of trips, there are times when travel is not all glitz and glamor but rather dull and dingy, so if you’re planning your first big trip, here are some helpful tips to keep in mind:
Most of the time travel is exciting, you’re taking in new scenery, trying new foods, and maybe learning some of the local customs and language.
But there are also hours (and sometimes days) spent waiting for planes, on long bus journeys, and in the middle of nowhere.
Be prepared for long waits – books, cards, laptops, iPods/iPhones are great devices to help pass the time.
If you’re traveling for several months or more, taking up a new hobby is another great way to help pass quiet evenings.
Learn how to use Photoshop to edit your new photos, write a blog/diary of your travels, or study a new language in depth.
If you’re traveling anywhere in Asia, Africa or South America this will be a big one.
Appalling bathrooms, squat toilets, lack of access to running water in places, and mystery meat that will give you the runs for days are just a few of the lowered hygiene standards you’ll have to embrace.
Pack your own toilet paper, lots of hand sanitizer and Imodium and hope for the best.
If your skin color and native language are different than the locals, you might as well paint a bull’s eye target on your back for pick pocketing, scams, and inflated prices.
Although you should always be mindful of your belongings even when in your home town, you’ll have to be doubly aware abroad.
Keep your passports and wallets tucked away in money belts, keep purses zipped and over the shoulder and remember if a deal sounds too good to be true it usually is.
Unless you’re booked into an exclusive 5 star resort, you’ll most likely miss some of the comforts of home every now and again.
From waking up to your favorite coffee blend, missing your favorite foods or just wishing for reliable internet, the best way to cope is to embrace the new comforts you have abroad – treat yourself to a famous Thai massage, or spoil yourself with a nice dinner out for only pennies compared to prices back home.
From being the only foreigner on a long bus journey to standing in the middle of Khao San Road among the madness by yourself, feeling alone can creep up on you when you least expect it.
Striking up conversation with other travelers as well as the locals can help to stave off the loneliness.
Every now and again it’s worth the time and money to make calls back home to your family and friends.
______
About the Author: Jennifer Tice quit her job, sold her belongings, strapped on a backpack, flew to the other side of the world, and hasn't looked back since. Follow her journey around New Zealand, Australia and Southeast Asia at http://jennifertice.com/ and on Twitter @Jennifertice
I learned many things on my road trip across the United States, but there are 30 that I took special notice of, and they sum up why I believe America is beautiful.
All of the facts below are from my positive experience in the actual places.
None of them are based on preconceived notions nor the opinions of others. Most are exaggerations or slightly sarcastic. Very few are facts.
And if you find any to be the least bit negative or critical, please know that I don't mean them to sound that way.
Enjoy, and please feel free to add any more in the comments below!
Sometimes people ride bikes naked in Philadelphia. At least they do once a year in September. Name that cause.
North Carolina boasts a plethora of vineyards. Don't miss them. Also, visit one of their farmer's markets since the offerings are ridiculous in a good way.
I want to retire in Savannah. I toured a home that may have been owned by my grandfather's distant relatives at one time-more research to come.
Montgomery, Alabama, makes for a friendly pit stop.
Don't go to New Orleans alone. Or go and enjoy yourself, but make sure that you make one more trip with a group of people. Others are necessary to enjoy all that the city has to offer. Know the significance of "Whodat?" before you even think of going alone or with company.
San Antonio is not a walkable city, but it's worth driving around. The Alamo, on the other hand, is not as exciting as it seems.
The Oklahoma City Art Museum is fantastic, as is all of its ethnic cuisines. Believe it.
Salina, Kansas, is the capital of frozen pizza making.
Those who said that the drive through Kansas is boring are mistaken. It's pretty gorgeous if I do say so myself.
Eastern Colorado is boring. Central Colorado is beautiful but be careful about the speediness of your alcohol consumption.
If you're a hippie and want to start a family, may I suggest you move to Boulder?
Santa Fe is a dream that I want to have again. If you go yourself, take note of the "Thanks for working" signs on the highway. They're a nice reminder to appreciate road work and the people that do it.
Phoenix has a lot to offer. You'll have to drive 20-minutes to find it, but you probably should anyway. Also, Arizona State is a party school, but I don't think any more than other fun colleges. I'll report back with more findings as I discover them when visiting my brother, who's currently a freshman there.
Los Angeles traffic is not that bad; it's just constant. I didn't hate it and could survive living there with an authentic smile on my face. Get sushi there, too, at least once.
Santa Barbara is too pretty to look lived in. I'm still glad I visited, though.
The scents of San Francisco are intoxicating. I blame it on the street gardens. Make sure to walk through them in addition to hiking up and down each block. It's good exercise.
Wine tastes better straight from the source. Visit a vineyard on the west coast, and invite me when you do.
I like fog, and I like forests, but northernmost California makes it eery.
According to Seattlites, Portland was a mini-Seattle about ten years ago.
Seattle's International District is the most appropriately named area for fantastic Thai/Vietnamese/Japanese/Filipino/Korean/Laotian/Cambodian/Burmese/etc. food.
The landscape from western Washington to Eastern Washington is incredible.
Northern Idaho (the Coeur d'Alene area) is breathtaking. The site, like many others, was carved by glaciers. Go. You must see it for yourself.
Bozeman, Montana is a midwest medley. I believe people with all interests could find a home there.
There's a big difference between the East River (eastern border) and the West River (western border) of South Dakota. I appreciate them both, although I can't say the same for the sprawl in the middle. It makes for one hell of a drive.
Austin, MN, is home to the SPAM museum and a super cool Couchsurfing host.
Madison, Wisconsin, is a town made for foodies. In addition, it is the only capital situated on an islip, and the beaver atop the capitol building points towards Washington, DC.
If there were to be a perfect college town, I'd vote for Ann Arbor.
Pittsburgh serves sandwiches with coleslaw and fries within them. You can thank the coal miners of yesterday.
There is nothing like going back to your alma mater. But I guess that's only if you had a fantastic college experience, and all of your friends go back with you, say, for homecoming.
The speedy crowds of New York aren't for everyone. Like really, really aren't for everyone. Many Americans told me so. Antique and vintage stores are, however, seem to be loved by all. They're everywhere.
Tel Aviv is the biggest city and trade center in Israel, situated along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and with fantastic views and beautiful surroundings.
The city offers a diverse array of shopping locations, active nightlife, cuisine from all over the world, entertainment venues, and lively trade fairs.
It is also the most important cultural center in the country, with a wide variety of galleries, concert venues, theaters, and museums.
While Tel Aviv is a magical and truly international city, there are some things to keep in mind.
First, the airport security check can be long and tedious.
If you fly with the Israeli El Al, you should know that it is among the few airlines with armed security guards.
My innocent self was asked a few thousand questions before the flight: 'What do you do for a living?' 'I see, a translator - what was the last translation you did?', 'Who used your laptop the last time?' And it goes on for ages.
Then, if you are an eager tourist wishing to see it all from the beginning, don't plan your holiday the way I did.
Landing just before Shabbat, I hardly managed to catch the last train from the airport to the city center (merkaz).
Apart from the big food stores, some restaurants, and a handful of museums, everything was closed down.
If you come on Shabbat in the summer, you can spend the day on some of the beaches close to Ben Yehuda Blvd.
For a unique cultural experience, go to one of the information offices around the city and get the contact details of a family with whom to spend the holiday.
The downside of Shabbat is that the festivities will keep you up on the night of the holiday - celebrations usually continue all night long. This can be a problem, especially if your hotel is in the downtown area.
Many budget travelers (like me) opt for hostels found there.
The place where I booked was clean, packed up, and affordable, with staff fluent in about five languages.
If you insist on having an air-conditioned room (and yes, humidity is a problem), you might look at other types of accommodation.
However, keep in mind that good hotels can be a bit pricy. Rooms start at $100 a night, especially during the holiday season.
Another thing to know is that the municipality organizes free walking tours for visitors to the city. These are in English and last for about two hours.
I joined a tour featuring numerous examples of Bauhaus architecture - many buildings are considered monuments.
The city permits the construction of skyscrapers in the downtown area only when the constructor renovates older buildings.
Real estate is quite expensive in the city. Apartments in high-rises on the coast are selling for 14 million US dollars.
Jaffa is among the prime attractions in Tel Aviv, and locals relish telling the legends of this place.
It was named after Japhet, son of Noah, who built the port after the Flood.
It is also believed that the name comes from Yofi, the Hebrew word for beauty.
The history of Jaffa goes back more than four millennia, with Jaffa being the only port in history that has been inhabited continuously since its founding.
Jonah left from Jaffa in his escape from God.
The Apostle Peter performed a miracle here. Then, Jaffa was conquered by Roman emperors Richard the Lionheart and Napoleon over time.
Even without knowing all this, one gets a special feeling when standing on the shore and gazing out over the waters flowing into eternity.
Tel Aviv is a little like the two-faced god of antiquity, Janus, with one face looking forward and the other gazing back into the past.
Tel Aviv may be a bastion of modernity in some regards, with the ancient city of Old Jaffa offering a charming touch of the medieval.
This unique combination of Mediterranean ambiance, modern outlook, and holiday resort is behind the unique appeal of Tel Aviv.
As always, there are conflicts between tradition and modernity.
As far as Shabbat is concerned, they involve hotel policies. Religious tourists are usually asked to vacate their rooms in the afternoon, quite a bit before the end of the holiday.
You usually have to pay a higher price to stay or cancel your vacation altogether.
Recently, there were complaints about this, and the local rabbinate was asked to intervene.
That notwithstanding, such conflicts are inevitable in a city like Tel Aviv, where the past and future live side by side.
___________
About the Author: Melissa Davis writes for Healthy Living Magazine, offering advice on a balanced life, self-knowledge, and unforgettable journeys inside oneself and around the world.
During my trip through Colombia's coffee region, it was recommended to me by several fellow travelers that I visit Salento, a well-preserved pueblo which serves as the jumping-off point for day trips to the Valle de Cocora.
In Salento, as with most pueblos, daily life unfolds in the main square every day and night.
This is part 2 (of 2). In case you missed it, part 1 was Extreme Horseback Riding in Valle de Cocora.
After enjoying hot chocolate, cheese, and a break from the rain, we snapped a few photos of the hummingbirds fluttering around, and set about extracting ourselves from the forest on foot.
It quickly became clear that the Aussie was going to be the slowest, as he tried to balance himself with a hand on the ground while his bare feet slid down through the mud.
The Colombian girl was nursing a bruised knee from the horse who kicked her on the way up, so I expected she'd be slower than normal too.
Within five minutes, the two Swiss girls and I had lost track of the others.
They didn't seem concerned about splitting up, and I much preferred to keep a faster pace so we could get back to Salento and out of the rain sooner rather than later.
We had received general guidance that to continue on the trail, we'd backtrack to where we left the horses, then go down a little further to a fork in the trail.
To get to the guest house had gone to the right; to get back to the valley we'd go left, and then climb even higher than the elevation of the guest house, before reaching a road that would loop back to the start.
Backtracking required crossing the river, and this time I didn't have Canario, my trusty steed, to assist.
The four logs in the photo above were our footbridge.
Covered in moss and moisture, I crab-walked across to ensure I didn't end up in the water.
Thankfully, it turned out to be our only river crossing on the way back.
At the fork in the trail, there were a bunch of dilapidated, barely legible signs.
The Valle de Cocora trail was in dire need of a makeover. One of the signs indicated the elevation, about 2,500m.
And we would all begin to feel it as our ascent got underway.
Thick with mud, and a noticeable amount of manure, the trail zig-zagged it's way up a mountain.
We did our best to walk the edges, and not get bogged down, but the pitch and my impatience meant I'd often step in 6 inches of mud if it meant traversing a section faster.
At times, I thought of the Aussie guy navigating the trail in his bare feet.
Remember the scene in Romancing the Stone where Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner get caught in a rainstorm and go careening down the Colombian mountain on a giant mudslide, landing with a splash in a big puddle (2:00 mark in this video)?
Yea, I did too as I tried to wipe images of me losing my grip and meeting the same fate from my mind.
They were on a movie set, we were in the middle of nowhere as far as I was concerned.
After we'd done what felt like a good deal of climbing already, one of the Swiss girls wondered aloud if we should go back to the fork in the trail, and return the way we came on the horses.
The prospect of having wasted time and energy on our current path, combined with the images of the rickety bridges we'd have to cross, ensured I wasn't turning around.
The rain continued falling, and we continued wondering how much further up we had to go before we would emerge from the forest.
After what felt like hours, but in reality, it was closer to 45 minutes, I spotted a patch of white sky.
A few dozen meters more, and we were at the bottom of grazing land.
A muddy path wound its way up to a fence, on the other side of which was a guest house. Elevation 2,860m.
We breathed a collective sigh of relief and took a few minutes to rest.
It would take another hour plus to walk back to the pick-up point for share jeeps to Salento, but at least we were on a flat, open road, and would be walking downhill the rest of the way.
As we finished the hike, the rain let up, and the sun began to shine as if the valley was giving us a warm welcome for having weathered an otherwise dreary day.
Clouds swept through the tops of the towering wax palms; cows grazed down below.
The three of us could not resist taking photos every step of the way.
____________
My 138-page, all-original Medellín Travel Guide is available for Kindle and PDF.
.
Last month I met a horse named Canario, and if I had my way, that horse would retire from shuttling tourists around and live out the rest of its years chomping fresh, green grass under the towering wax palms of Valle de Cocora in central Colombia.
Extreme horseback riding wasn't on my agenda when I arose early one morning at a dairy farm turned hostel outside Salento, a pueblo in the heart of Colombia's coffee-growing region.
Upon arrival the previous day, I'd kept to myself, aside from talking to a German guy in the bunk bed next to me who'd spent five hours hiking around in the mud and rain to see hummingbirds.
After taking in the views of clouds drifting through the mountains around the dairy farm, while sipping a fresh cup of coffee, I walked the 10 minutes down a dirt road into Salento's main square.
There, I waited for the 9:30 am share jeep to Valle de Cocora, a nature preserve home to Colombia's national tree, the wax palm, which also happens to be the tallest type of palm tree in the world.
While I was waiting, the Colombian manager from the Base Camp hostel in Manizales showed up, along with the French guy that had been working there during my stay.
They were wearing rubber boots in preparation for the mud to be encountered during the full 5-hour hike.
I was still feeling content with my plan to hop out of the jeep, photograph the palms, have lunch, and head back to Salento within a few hours.
Then a friendly young Aussie walked up in shorts and flip flops. Followed by two Swiss girls.
And suddenly, we were all crammed in the back of an old jeep, speeding down a mountain road, onto a bumpy unpaved one, toward the entrance of the valley.
During the journey, we introduced ourselves and got to know each other, as happens so effortlessly when sharing such experiences.
By the time we arrived thirty to forty minutes later, a group dynamic had developed, and before I knew it, we were picking out horses to ride during the first half of the trail.
The cost was about 18,000 pesos each ($10), which included payment for a guide (required when taking horses).
There were no helmets; no insurance waivers to sign.
Once we were all on our horses, mine's name being Canario (Canary), I declared in Spanish to my new friends that I had minimal horseback riding experience.
My last ride was almost two years prior -- a gentle trot through Storms River, South Africa.
Luckily, horses such as these have the same routine every day, so they follow each other and are familiar with the guide's commands (usually relayed via whistling).
The Swiss girls were experienced riders, as was everyone else in comparison to me. The Australian guy was riding barefoot.
As we set off down the trail, the horses all fell in line, and we were soon passing through farmland, on a narrow, deeply rutted path.
Canario managed to balance himself on the thinnest sections of mud and traipsed through large puddles of water without hesitation.
Sometimes another horse would speed up behind us, and as if to ensure none of them would pass, Canario would speed up too.
I'd immediately try and calm him down, but it took some time for me to relax and enjoy the passing scenery without images of falling off a runaway horse passing through my mind.
After about thirty minutes, we left the open farms of the valley for the cover of the jungle.
Due to the region's climate, it rains a lot, and therefore the trail was wet and muddy.
We were soon navigating around very steep terrain (both going up, and more frighteningly, down).
The Swiss girls commented that their (pampered) horses in Switzerland would never be able to handle such rugged trails.
Meanwhile, I thought that this ride was about ten times more dangerous than any other I'd been on (going back to when I was a kid and rode a little more often in New Jersey).
The rocks and deep sections of mud were one danger, but it was the river crossings that had my anxiety levels maxing out.
We crossed the same river in the jungle about 4-5 times, and each time it seemed the water was deeper and moving faster than the prior crossing.
The water level was just below the bottom of my stirrups, and as it was muddy, there was no way to tell where it was best for the horse to be walking.
They just followed each other in a line. One misstep, and I was going to be chucked into cold water.
On one or two occasions, I'd also probably have been swept over a small rocky waterfall to boot.
My camera, in a nylon drybag, could easily be destroyed, along with a few of my bones.
Even scarier than the river crossings on horseback were the state of the "bridges" if you were hiking that section of the trail.
Usually, they consisted of a few rotten logs. One of them was a moss-covered, rope suspension bridge, complete with broken floorboards like you'd see in an Indiana Jones movie.
When I saw them, I was thankful to be riding Canario.
And despite all my anxieties, I trusted Canario didn't want to fall either, and would, therefore, be taking as much care as a horse knows how to take.
After an hour and a half or two, we dismounted and walked another few hundred meters up to a small guest house perched above the trail.
Home to an array of hummingbird feeders, and a Colombian man, it was a regular rest stop for those on the trail.
Our group warmed up with the hot chocolate and large chunks of cheese.
Those familiar with local customs will break up the cheese and add it to the chocolate -- a delicious treat after more excitement than I bargained for that morning.
We were at 2,800m, and it had begun to rain.
The Australian, when given a choice between hiking the remainder of the trail in flip flops or barefoot, started to go barefoot.
Between the mix of mud and horse manure on the trail, it was an unthinkable (and dangerous) proposition to me. But he had no other choice.
The Colombian girl had been on the receiving end of a kick from the French guy's horse just before we arrived at the house.
A giant bruise was swelling up on the outside of one of her knees.
To finish the trail, we would be on foot for the next three hours.
Already having experienced the type of terrain we'd encounter on horseback, I knew I was in for a muddy mess, especially with the rain starting.
The elevation couldn't be ignored either, as it was not something we felt while the horses were doing the physical work.
Would the barefoot Australian make it out alive? Would we get lost due to the poorly marked trail? Would the views of the valley be worth the effort at the end of the day?
To be continued.
____________
My 138-page, all-original Medellín Travel Guide is available for Kindle and PDF.
.
Imagine for a moment that you could do the work you love, from anywhere in the world you want?
Location independence is a contemporary term coined to describe people who are able to work remotely, and therefore have the freedom to travel and live abroad.
Working from home is not a new concept, and remains the dream of many who work in cubicle farms, however, today's location independent professional tends to be empowered by Internet-based businesses such as blogging or freelance anything (writing, editing, design, consulting).
Five months after returning to a city I love (Medellin), in a profession that makes me happy (travel blogger), I've learned there are a few hidden pitfalls to the location independent lifestyle -- pitfalls that are easy to overlook when you've always got your eye on the prize.
Thailand is a popular expat destination for a reason -- beautiful beaches, flavorful foods, dependable internet access, laid back attitudes, and plentiful amounts of cheap alcohol.
When you live in paradise, every night is an excuse to hit the beach bars and mingle with members of the opposite sex from around the world.
In Medellin, where there are mountains in lieu of beaches, the cheap rum and Latin nightlife can just as easily become an ongoing distraction.
If you're a single guy, add the appeal of local women to the mix and you may find it difficult to get any work done.
Late nights outs aren't the only challenge to your productivity; their after-effects (ie. the hangovers) can sap your creative energy, and motivation to tackle the next new project.
Solution
If your to-do list is collecting dust months after you initially wrote it down, then it's time to reexamine your priorities.
Chances are it was hard work and hustle that got you where you are, so getting back on track is a matter of refocusing your energy.
Countless business books have been written on productivity, and the same principles apply whether you're working in an office, your home, or a bungalow on the beach.
Balance is the key.
Too much focus on fun and you risk losing your source of income.
Too much focus on work and you'll miss out on experiencing life in the present moment.
There is a middle way, however, each person needs to find it for him/herself.
Living in a foreign country, especially before you've attained fluency in the local language, means food shopping can be a challenge.
If you are an amateur chef in your native country, you might be thrown off by the lack of certain ingredients abroad (ex: I can't find curry paste in Medellin).
This can lead to a dependence on junk food, or less healthy foods since they're easier to identify and prepare (mac 'n cheese anyone?).
For example, living in a tropical climate, it's easy to get in the habit of picking up an ice cream pop every day without thinking twice. Living in Italy? Double those calories because you'll be eating gelato.
If you're in a big city with a strong food scene, such as Buenos Aires or Chengdu, you may prefer to eat out all the time.
Traditional cuisine in certain countries may be inherently healthier than that in others.
Sushi in Japan certainly beats the pants off deep-fried everything in Colombia.
And needless to say, Pitfall #1 can contribute to a poor diet as well.
Late nights of partying often end with greasy, fatty foods consumed without abandon.
Between the partying, an erratic or unhealthy diet, and a potentially sedentary job sitting in front of a computer all day, exercise can also fall by the wayside.
Solution
Wherever you live, or for however long you travel, eating healthy foods and getting regular exercise is about maintaining a sense of discipline.
This is hard enough in your home country, but it is especially difficult when you're in foreign territory, faced with unfamiliar options and the endless distraction of getting to know your surroundings.
One approach is to learn to cook the local foods, and therefore give yourself control over both ingredients, and portion sizes.
In Thailand, there are plenty of inexpensive, single-day classes teaching foreigners how to prepare typical dishes.
In Argentina, you'll be grilling steaks; in the Caribbean, learn to catch and clean fish and you'll be living off the sea.
When it comes to regular exercise, if you're not inclined to play sports with the locals, then suck it up and invest in a gym membership.
Make your health a priority, and in addition to feeling fitter, you'll experience boosts in energy which will carry over into your work and social life too.
Whether you're building a lifestyle around successful travel blogging, photography, or another location independent profession it can be all too tempting to immediately spend the money you start earning.
Instead of saving a percentage, or reinvesting in your business to help it grow faster, you may feel the desire to begin upgrading your standard of living.
Bigger apartment, better view, more clothes, costlier bottles of wine, unnecessary travel.
Whatever your hobby, passion, or material vice, earning US dollars, Euros, or British Pounds while living in a developing nation can quickly lead to a feeling of wealth that far exceeds the reality of your bank account.
Solution
As with the other two pitfalls, a renewed sense of monetary discipline is required.
Setting goals for yourself month to month and year to year can help control your discretionary spending habits.
To make the process fun, set up rewards for yourself that are in line with your business.
For example with travel blogging, allow yourself one week of travel for every month you reach a specific benchmark in earnings.
Colombia's proximity to the Equator lends many visitors to believe they can go anywhere in the country wearing a pair of shorts and flip flops. These people fail to account for the mountainous terrain that covers a good swath of the country, including Bogota and El Cafetero, the coffee region.
Manizales is a small city built on hillsides, a five hour bus ride south of Medellin. Situated at an altitude of 2,100m, it is the main jumping off point for trips into Parque Nacional Natural de los Nevados to see the mighty, snow-covered Nevado del Ruiz volcano. The 5,300m volcano is even high enough to have a few glaciers.
For most Colombians, a day trip by minivan to the park is the most accessible, affordable opportunity they will have to experience snow. For tourists, there is an undeniable novelty to seeking out snow in a country so often associated with tropical beaches and jungle.
I arrived in Manizales and took a room at the new Base Camp hostel, which on a clear day, has a direct view of Nevado del Ruiz from the rooftop bar. I was in town not only to see the volcano, but to hit the 5,000m mark in altitude. It was to be a new high for me (my previous record being 4,330m in northern India).
Unfortunately, I was quickly informed that due to recent seismic activity, the highest we would be able to ascend is 4,800m. I was bummed, but wanted to make the best of the situation.
I awoke bright and early at 6am the next morning to zero visibility, and pouring rain. I debated whether to delay my trip and try again the next day, or go, and cross my fingers that the visibility would be better at the higher elevations. The low season meant rainy days were the norm, so for all I knew it could be raining the following morning too. On the flip side, rain in Manizales equals snow in the mountains, and because the Colombians are there for the snow, they're not about to be picky about visibility, and neither was I.
My group included four women from Cali, two women from Bogota, a professional photographer from the Dominican Republic, and me. Our driver spoke no English, so many of the details he shared during our trip were lost on me.
On our way out of Manizales, we picked up some snacks and water. Even though we were driving instead of hiking, it was still important to respect the high altitudes we would be experiencing. The ride into the mountains was drab, with clouds obscuring what I imagined to be beautiful scenery.
At 7am, we stopped for breakfast at a small restaurant (3,760m), the rain still pouring, and the temperatures cold enough for me to be shivering. I was wearing a motley assortment of clothes, including a wool cap from Darjeeling, a Khmer scarf from Cambodia, and the GoLite hoodie and jacket I'd reviewed on this blog earlier in the year.
Breakfast was basic, but large, consisting of eggs, rice, bread, an arepa, a massive chunk of cheese, and the local (unsweetened) hot chocolate, which I immediately fell in love with. After gobbling it all up, I walked up a small flight of stairs to use the restroom, and it was then that I felt my heart beating noticeably harder from the altitude.
Back in the minivan, with its bald tires, and barely functioning heat, we drove another 15 minutes to the entrance of Parque Nacional Natural de los Nevados (4,050m). A sign indicated there were bears and pumas in the park. We went inside a small building and were given a presentation in Spanish, and then it was back to the minivan.
It's always interesting to see how the vegetation changes as you increase your altitude. Add to the mix a volcanic environment, versus regular mountains, and the landscape quickly became other-wordly. We hit the snowline almost immediately after entering the park -- glaciers visible in the distance. The rain turned to a wintry mix, and the paved road came to an end.
Our minivan was ill equipped for normal roads on a sunny day, let alone volcanic terrain covered in snow. At about 4,300 meters, it could go no further. This happened to be the same altitude I reached in India, and thus I set no new record for myself.
We exited the minivan, the Colombians making snow angels and taking lots of photos of each other playing around. The crater we had the best view of was not the big one, Nevado del Ruiz, but was sufficiently cool to satisfy me. The heavy cloud cover meant our views were limited. The dreariness of the weather matched that of the environment - dark, dull, moody. Vegetation had been reduced to small clumps of grass.
It wasn't until our way back down that the skies began to clear, and we managed to get a decent look at Nevado del Ruiz. We stopped for lunch at the same restaurant where we enjoyed breakfast, only by now it had stopped raining, and warmed up. As we continued down to town, the sun emerged, burning off the clouds and lighting up the green mountains all around us.
____________
My 138-page, all-original Medellín Travel Guide is now available for Kindle and PDF.
.
I am not as concerned with theft as I am with losing my digital camera to the elements.
I've gone through three point-and-shoot digital cameras in the last three years, and I have vowed to make my new Canon PowerShot last at least two.
I was heartbroken when my first digital camera died after some sand got into the lens at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.
I had dreamed about hiking into the Grand Canyon since I was a little kid, and I sadly have no photos at the bottom of the canyon.
My last camera only made it a few months; it met its end when drink powder ripped open in my bag during my first ultramarathon.
The road can be pretty tough on cameras, so here are seven highly effective ways to protect your camera while traveling:
1. Utilize the Camera Strap
So this is pretty much Photography 101, but always use your wrist or neck strap to secure your digital camera.
I often remove the strap because it can blow in front of the lens and get in the way of my shot, but it wouldn't if I had the strap wrapped around my wrist like it is supposed to be.
Straps keep you from dropping your camera off the side of the boat or the cliff.
Table of Contents
If I had only discovered Pelican cases and Otter boxes years ago, I wouldn't have gone through so many cameras.
These cases are crushproof, dustproof, and water-resistant.
I love being able to toss my camera in my backpack and not have to worry about it getting crushed or scratched.
The only thing is they won't protect your camera out of the case.
Some cameras are just more robust than others. The Olympus Stylus Tough series cameras are waterproof, freezeproof, shockproof, and crushproof.
These cameras are built with the adventure traveler in mind and can withstand whatever abuse you toss at it.
Just because you got yourself a nifty waterproof camera doesn't mean that it will float if you drop it in the water.
Get yourself a floating strap, so in case you do drop it in the water, it won't sink and be lost forever.
If you're not in the market for a new waterproof camera, you can waterproof your existing camera with a relatively inexpensive case.
The Aquapac Compact Camera Case turns any digital camera (up to 8 inches in diameter) into an underwater camera.
Waterproof to a depth of 15 feet, the Aquapac's ultra-clear lens lets you take great underwater shots right through the case.
Related: Travel Photography Advice from a Five-Year Traveler
Have you ever tried to use a rock ledge or a signpost as a tripod, just to have a gust of wind blow up and toss your camera to the ground?
Try a Gorillapod instead. These flexible tripods weigh less than two ounces and monkey its way around an object to help you safely get the perfect shot.
If you're hard on electronics, I highly recommend purchasing warranty or accident protection plans for your camera.
Many plans will protect your camera 100% from mechanical failures as well as falls and water damage.
__________
About the Author: Amiee Maxwell writes about travel and outdoor gear at Travel Gear Blog, part of the BootsnAll network. You can follow her on Twitter @AmieeMaxwell and @TravelGearBlog.
We all tend to be very passionate when we latch onto an idea. So I know that those of us who should take a sober look at our efforts are probably the exact people who will not do so.
Step outside your enthusiasm for a moment, though, and ensure that your intentions are being served as effectively as possible. Whether you're considering volunteering as part of an upcoming trip or maybe you're a seasoned volunteer, there are a few things you should consider.
These are not items for or against volunteering outside of your home country. More accurately, they are considerations regarding the effectiveness and direction of your efforts. You are volunteering to be effective, right?
Here are a couple of examples to help you get into that big-picture frame of mind when considering whether to donate your time to a cause.
Let me tell you a story of a real problem we faced in post-earthquake Haiti. Thousands and thousands of Haitians were living in IDP camps after the significant January 12th, 2010 earthquake. In disasters, IDP means Internally Displaced People and is used to differentiate them from international refugee camps.
In the case of Haiti, the average IDP camp is a vast area of tarps, sheet metal, salvage, and far too many families, all crammed together in an open space such as a farmer's field or a park. Not a place anyone would willingly reside.
In any case, a few months after the earthquake, many volunteer groups were heavily focused on helping families move out of these camps and back onto their own property.
Everyone naturally assumes that camp residents would be eager to move away. However, the actual situation that unfolded is that the families would not go.
They loved the idea of leaving the camp but weren't willing to go without the handouts of food, clothes, and other essentials that other volunteer groups were providing in the camp.
If these families went home, they would miss out on the handouts, and so these well-meaning handout organizations were creating a considerable dependency on living in horrible squalor.
Consider, then, on top of all this, the cholera epidemic that Haiti is now seeing and how IDP camps have zero sanitation. How many families are living in potentially deadly filth so they can get their handouts?
I bring this up as something to consider because it's often tough to see the knock-off effects beyond the obvious initial benefits of a kind act.
They say that math never lies, and in this situation, that is pretty much true. Do some math on your potential volunteer plan and see if you're effective with your help.
For example, if you buy a new pair of boots, a sun hat, and a case of bug spray, plus pay for an international flight to help an organization, are you providing more value than the sum of your expenses?
Would the organization have been better served by receiving the money you spent?
Now add the value in time and materials of any training and housing you will receive, plus the proverbial free t-shirt. You see where I'm going here.
By the time you get your butt to an international volunteering situation, you've spent a noteworthy amount of time and money (same thing).
Maybe you should have donated that money instead? Sure, you wouldn't feel awesome, but this isn't about you.
If you're going to spend the money on volunteering, be confident that you are competent enough to make it worthwhile.
A common point of contention among international volunteers is the "foreigner saves the day" syndrome. What can you and your friends do that someone local to the issue can not?
Are you providing training and addressing absent skills, or are you simply doing what a local would do if given the chance? This one is often related to time and money considerations as well.
Why should you pay hundreds in airfare, etc., to go milk seals for a week, or whatever it is you want to do, when your expenses could otherwise employ a local for a year to do the same job?
Look for aspects of your plan that involve training or enabling people to help themselves. You know the saying, "Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day, but teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime."
So teach that unemployed local person how to milk seals so that he can then make a living, which he previously wasn't able to do, rather than milking seals for a week and then leaving. Perhaps I should have used a different hypothetical cause? You get the idea.
I encourage you to be able to honestly list the value you are adding. Don't generalize or gloss things over because you're caught up in the romanticism of helping. That said, I encourage you to volunteer.
As all voluntourists should do, I also encourage you to stay involved in some sense afterward. Tell folks about how and why you volunteered, and be around for your co-volunteers to commiserate with.
There are, in fact, very few things in this world as rewarding and satisfying as being directly involved in a meaningful project purely for the sake of doing the right thing. The world doesn't have nearly enough volunteers, so we should ensure that the few we do have are useful.
____________
About the Author: Shawn Stafford is an attractive crime fighter and part-time nomadic freelance writer, whose other articles can be found on his subtly classy yet mediocre website, Rerunaround. You can also stalk Shawn on Twitter (X): @shawnosaurus
The following is a guest post by RJ Fry. If you'd like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Winners are grinners, and the locals here are full of smiles. The city of Ipoh is engulfed by jungle on all sides. The landscape is blanketed in a brilliant shade of green that lays undisturbed, except for the limestone peak of an occasional jagged mountain. The architecture is colonial, and with it comes a laid-back feel - a welcome relief from the chaos of Kuala Lumpur. The town boasts many boulevards, a range of roundabouts and frequent fountains.
Like in Georgetown, the amount of street food stalls is staggering, but the ubiquitous hawker stands take up less sidewalk space. Ipoh is famous even by Malaysian standards for cheap and delicious foods, and most meals will cost less than $1. Backpackers take heed...
Ipoh is famous throughout the coffee drinking world for 'Ipoh White Coffee,' a regional specialty in which the coffee beans are roasted with butter and salt, and served with condensed milk. The end result is an aftertaste akin to popcorn, one which is absolutely addictive. I spoke with Amy, one of the managers at Ipoh Central Cafe (address: Jalan Raja Ekram), who shared with me the reason her cafe made the best brew in town. "We do not mix beans!" she exclaimed. "In America, or Europe, people mix beans together. We use only local harvest."
I leave the cafe after three delicious iced coffees. I cross the road, halting suddenly as somebody yells out to me from a motorcycle.
"HELLO FRIEND" he shouts enthusiastically, with his whole family piled on the small frame of the bike. I wave back a hurried response to this man who has already started to slow the traffic behind him.
"How are you finding yourself today?!" he shouts, no need for an inside voice as we are on a busy stretch of road and must shout over all the blaring horns, just to make ourselves heard.
"Yeah, really good," I reply, shocked and unable to match his level of intensity.
"Ipoh very nice city, good people here take care for you," he says, before zooming off in a cloud of dust. His two young children wave and smile in my direction, bidding me farewell in their local language. Ipoh and Georgetown both have wonderful food options, but only Ipoh can boast locals this friendly.
As I set off for the island state of Penang, I was very excited. I figured anything nicknamed the 'Pearl of the Orient' would have to be beautiful! However, this initial excitement decreased drastically, the longer the trip to get here took. This tiresome journey included twelve hours on a train from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur, immediately followed by a further eight hours on a train from KL to Butterworth, from Butterworth it was only a fifteen minute ferry, but my patience was already pushed at this point and this little island was going to have to work hard to impress me.
After disembarking from the ferry, I take a walk through the crowded streets of Georgetown. It is a rare occasion when the streets are not just crowded with people, but with an abundance of decaying buildings which although lay dormant, appear to be jostling for position. One cannot simply walk down a footpath here, as space is limited and every available inch is used. It's a constant game of back and forth, as you must alternate between road and storefront in order to proceed to your destination. I choose not to visit the northern part of the island known as 'Batu Ferringhu,' as I have a sneaking suspicion that the Malay translation is along the lines of 'beach for tourist.' No thanks.
This is not a city full of landmarks, or must-see attractions. For the bulk of visitors, it is a place to indulge in digestive decadence. A place to relax by the beach, catch up on reading or spend long periods of downtime. There is a reggae cafe with many depictions of Bob Marley, but being caught in possession of any drug in Malaysia will lead to similar penalties found in Singapore.
What catches my interest instead is a tank with little water in it, and many thrashing eels. Thinking it was a pit of snakes, I wandered over to get a better look. The restaurant manager was more than happy for me to take a photo, and happy to explain the process. Live eels are worth more than dead ones, so when they are transported, they are kept alive with a little water and oxygen. Some diners even choose to have the specimen prepared in such a way, that it is still alive upon consumption. Apparently to 'look them in the eyes while you eat them, is to gain their soul and fighting spirit.' In other words - BS.
I head to Upper Penang Road, the restaurant/nightlife district, to look for a cheap feed. Penang is the home of 'laksa,' a famous noodle soup which is known throughout the world. I decide to try the local specialty, from one of the many food stalls that line the busy street.
The vendor and I share a game of charades, during which I express my desire for a vegetarian laksa in which there is no fish stock. A passerby takes pity on me, and translates my concern. The vendor is all too happy to help out, and since everything is prepared fresh before my eyes - there is nothing to be concerned about.
I find the soup to be tasty and fresh, but a little too sweet for my liking. In terms of laksa, my vote is with sour not sweet. In the search for the best of Malaysia, Ipoh wins again!
___________
About the Author: RJ Fry started publishing Global Drifter after completing University in 2010, and bumming around India for a few months. He travels sporadically and takes stupid risks - follow his progress on http://global-drifter.blogspot.com
The following is a guest post by RJ Fry. If you'd like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
To really understand Malaysia, you'll need to plan more than just a stopover in the nation's capital - Kuala Lumpur. If you happen to find yourself there for 24 hours due to unforeseen circumstances (or canceled flights), rest assured - there's plenty to see and do during a layover in Kuala Lumpur.
To get your bearings, first head to Bukit Bintang (Golden Triangle). Although this is undoubtedly the tourist precinct in KL, it's not all bad news. This is also the city's shopping and nightlife precinct, with open-air food stalls and a few makeshift bars open late each night. You'll find plenty to keep you entertained, from world class cuisine to relaxing massages, and everything in between.
For those sick and tired of regular massages, why not try the special 'fire-cup' technique? Also known as 'cupping,' you can try this traditional form of Chinese medicine for under $20. It dates back thousands of years and involves suction of the skin, in order to suck out all the bad properties while replenishing the good, much like the way leeches were used in the middle ages. The process is no doubt painful, with each fitted cup bringing with it a feeling akin to clothes peg on nipple. After 20 minutes of waiting and wondering, all amidst incessant laughter from a mob of masseuses, the suction cups are finally removed and the sense of relief is overwhelming.
You'd be well within your right to eat every meal in Bukit Bintang, as this part of the city showcases the depth of Malaysia's obsession and love affair with food. Every cuisine is represented, from Mexican and Iraqi restaurants, to Thai and Pakistani street stalls. If you do choose to leave the area, and want to try some fantastic Indian food, make sure you head south and check out Brickfields, or as it's known to locals - Little India.
I have eaten Indian food all over the world, including in India, but Sangeetha Vegetarian Restaurant (Palace Hotel, Brickfields) still stands out. On my last visit to the Malaysian capital, I stumbled into this restaurant by pure chance and foolishly forgot to get a business card. I thought about the place often, but without even a name to go by, my chances of finding nirvana through nourishment again, were lowered drastically. I only knew that it was in Brickfields, near a bazaar and at the base of a hotel.
After being dropped off by the marketplace, my wild goose chase is thankfully short, and I have found my happy place in under an hour. In every respect, my first visit here resulted in the best meal I'd ever had in my life, and probably ever will. I decided this time around, I'll order the same thing - Gobi Manchurian with Masala Dosa to start. Although I've ordered the exact same meal before, complete with naan and chutney, the taste still blows me away.
Kuala Lumpur is big and bustling, there's no doubt about it. Look past the honking and the horns, and you'll find it's also something else, and while it may seem slightly western - it is undeniably Asian.
___________
About the Author: RJ Fry started publishing Global Drifter after completing University in 2010, and bumming around India for a few months. He travels sporadically and takes stupid risks - follow his progress on http://global-drifter.blogspot.com
The following is a guest post by Jade Scully. If you'd like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Earlier this year, my boyfriend and I spent two and a half weeks backpacking through Thailand. It was a short trip, but just long enough to open my heart and eyes to the idea of seeing the world.
As soon as we landed in Bangkok, I was in awe of the amount of Thai people getting around on scooters; it seemed there were more of them on the road than cars and buses put together! What was even more shocking was that none of them wore helmets even when a whole family of five (including a baby of a few months and a little child) was squeezed onto the back, holding onto one another tightly so as not to slip off. It was a scene we'd have to get used to, and when I stopped to think about it the entire transport system the cars, scooters, and tuk-tuks they moved smoothly within the chaos. There were very few actual traffic jams, and even less hooting and screaming at each other.
In fact, it was only the overwhelming number of foreigners on scooters that created any kind of on-the-road friction, especially those found on the islands.
It's so cheap and easy to rent a scooter (assuming one doesn't mind parting with his or her passport for the duration of the rental; this is their insurance policy), and it may honestly be the best way to explore the islands. But, combine the reckless abandon of young travelers with equally as cheap and easily-accessible alcohol, and then add the freedom to drink and drive, and there are bound to be some clashes. I know from personal experience.
During our time on the first of the islands we visited Koh Phangan we met up with a group of burly, ready-to-party guys from New Zealand and an even crazier Scotsman. Since we were all staying next to one another, we decided to head to Haad Rin (the venue of the Full Moon Party madness) together. The roads there were curvy and steep, and even on the back of the open taxi we'd all chipped in together to hire, I felt uneasy. We got there safely though and ended up partying until sunrise.
The next night the boys decided to head back to the drunken craziness on their scooters. My boyfriend and I, on the other hand, had had a relaxed evening in and were in bed by the time they arrived back. It wasn't until the next morning that we heard the news: Tim (one of the New Zealanders) had been driving back completely drunk, hit something on the road, and flown headfirst over the handlebars. He barely missed going over the edge. When we checked up on him he had bandages on his legs and arms, and cuts everywhere else.
But that didn't stop the boys heading out for another drunken night adventure on their scooters. Sure enough, two of them crashed on their way backs as well.
It was only when we were on Koh Tao and heard about the recent death of young traveler in a scooter accident that I really stopped to think about it. Although the Thai people may not ride their scooters in the safest of ways, they knew the roads and weather conditions like the back of their hands. They'd probably even been living this sort of lifestyle since they were born. Visitors to the islands, however, are just there to have a good time which generally involves drinking way more than a few drinks, dancing the night away, and coming " home" to their bungalows early the next morning by whatever means they saw fit. In most of their home countries, they probably would never consider drinking and driving as an option, but for whatever reason such rules as well as most common sense washes away with each swig of an ice cold Chang Beer.
My advice to anyone planning a trip to Thailand go, have fun, drink you little hearts away if you must, but please, please don't think you're invincible enough to have too many beers and drive you little scooter home. Many have tried and failed before. The majority of them ended up in physical pain with the financial wounds of having to pay back the expense of the damage done, but some, including the one unfortunate traveler that I know of, are no longer with us as a result.
Enjoy the buckets and then pay that extra 300Baht for a taxi or tuk-tuk home. It's worth it.
___________
About the Author: Jade Scully is a copywriter, blogger and online marketing enthusiast who has published her work on a series of online publications and websites including the Africa Adventure blog.
Since I began traveling abroad over 12 years ago, I've met more people from the United Kingdom (England & Ireland to be specific) than just about any other region.
I chalk it up to their consistently strong currency and desire to escape the often cool and rainy weather.
If you live in either country, then you should get to know Icelolly.com, a comparison tool for booking cheap holidays around the world.
The premise behind the site couldn't be simpler.
Gather together a wide range of holiday travel offers to popular destinations around the world, and offer visitors the ability to easily compare prices.
This is a UK based service, so trips are quoted in British Pounds, and include airfare to/from UK airports and accommodation.
Prices are per person, based on two people traveling together.
There are three holiday categories to choose from when conducting a search.
1. Ski holidays are predominantly focused on European destinations, including resorts in the Swiss, French, and Italian Alps. For those interested in leaving the European continent on their trip, there are also resorts in Canada such as Whistler (British Colombia), and the USA (both the Rockies, and Vermont).
2. City break holidays, good for shopping, taking in the arts, and dining well include places such as Hong Kong, Paris, Marrakesh, Bangkok, Istanbul, and New York City.
3. Sun holidays include the widest range of locations, from nearby destinations like the Canary Islands and Greece to the distant such as the Caribbean, Vietnam, India, and Kenya.
icelolly.com is solely a search engine for vacation packages and is therefore not involved in the actual booking process.
Each search result includes the name of the associated travel agency, as well as a contact phone number should you have questions or want to book the trip.
Complimenting the search results are high-level profiles of each location.
The overviews include popular activities, a taste of what you'll encounter eating out, and most importantly, average temperatures throughout the year along with a recommendation for the best time to visit.
As far as I can tell, inclusion on the Icelolly.com site is dependent on companies willing to advertise their travel deals there.
As a result, the comprehensiveness of what's on offer may be limited, however, it's worth referencing as yet another tool in your arsenal for booking cheap holidays from the UK.
______
This story was written in partnership with Icelolly.com.
Of all the places I visited on my road trip across the United States, it wasn't until New Orleans, Louisiana that I truly felt alone.
The city is tragically beautiful and unique and without any real clue as to where I was or where I should be going, I was overwhelmed.
Thankfully, as I was wandering through the French Quarter, I met Sara Roahen in the Librarie Book Shop. And by met, I mean that I stumbled across her book.
Within it, Roahan takes her readers on a journey through the notoriously delectable Crescent City cuisine as she attempts to trace the origins and explore the variations of signature dishes such as rice and beans, poisson meuniere amandine and ya-ka-mein.
But there's more to Gumbo Tales: Finding My Place at the New Orleans Table; it is as much a foodie's delight as it is that of a cultural historian.
Roahan does not limit herself to recipes or restaurant recommendations, although they are quite a few.
She includes anecdotes of her personal experiences with discovering the essence and soul of a city transformed by diversity and sustained through natural disasters.
She introduces the reader to many faces of the people who have shaped the culture of New Orleans and her immersion into it.
It is clear that as a midwesterner, she approached the urban culinary exploration with as much a craving for authenticity as an open heart.
Others have criticized how the book is broken up by signature dishes without any true fluidity between chapters but was one of the characteristics I appreciated most.
It allowed me to begin reading at Po-Boys (99 pages in) and continue hip-hopping throughout the book as I needed a reference or desired more background information.
And above all, Gumbo Tales made for an exquisite traveling companion.
Update
Thanks to the comments on Reddit, this was identified as a Koppie Foam Grasshopper (Dictyophorus spumans).
The red coloration is a warning sign that it's indeed poisonous, the result of consuming a steady diet of milkweed.
"The grasshoppers ingest these toxins which they exude in a foam from their thoracic joints for their own protection when threatened. Human and animal fatalities are known to have occurred from ingesting these grasshoppers." -- Kruger Park News
The box reads, "For wherever the road takes you." Perfect, I thought, as I opened it, put on the new Serengeti Siena glasses, and hopped into my packed car.
For those of you that were unaware, I just returned from a solo 6-week cross-country road trip. I drove through 32 states, stopped in 25 cities, and not surprisingly, had an absolutely phenomenal time. But those stories are for another day.
Today, it's all about the shades. Right before I left, I received the sunglasses I described above along with a pair of Bolle Dash sunglasses for review.
Both are lightweight, durable, and quite attractive. I wore the Serengeti Sienas while driving and was blown away by the quality.
As their catalog describes, all of the sunglasses in their new Sergenti line boast photochromatic, Spectral Control, and polarization technology which makes driving in direct sunlight a breeze.
Not to mention that with this line's particular flex metal design, I often forgot I was wearing anything at all.
Next, I tried the sportier Bolle Dashes, of which I'd reserved for the many hikes I took throughout the beautiful American terrain.
With a sleek and modern design, this model is certainly made for the stylish adventure-seeker.
Technologically, they offer moisture-absorbing Thermogrip temple tips and nose pads, b20.3 polycarbonate lenses for "category-leading visual clarity", and a Carbo Glass industrial strength coating to protect against scratches.
If they sound amazing, they truly are. My only complaint is the lens size although I'm convinced that has to do with the generational trend of Hollywood mega-shades.
All in all, I think that these sunglasses are a good investment for the everyday traveler.
They're very comfortable, appropriately priced for their high quality, and stylish (a forgotten detail common amongst the most lightweight packers).
The Siena sunglasses retail for between $200 and $260, depending on the style and can be purchased online at Serengeti Eyewear.
The Dash sunglasses retail for $110 and are available at Bolle.com. Drive on.
The lack of space in the small Bucharest apartments certainly did not impede the preparation of an absolutely amazing homemade meal given to me on my first night in Bucharest.
Here are a few of my observations of life in Romania.
The Food
Romanians adore fresh fruit and vegetables, and non-processed foods.
Almost everything is prepared by hand and does not come from a box or out of the freezer.
The vegetables, such as tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions are the freshest and amazing vegetables I have ever had.
It seems that many fruits and vegetables in the US are imported, processed, or genetically modified to make them big and shiny, yet the natural taste has been diluted out of them.
My first meal consisted of a tomato, cucumber, and onion salad with red wine vinegar, a freshly made yellow bean soup, red peppers stuffed with a mixture of rice, sausage, and spices along with a freshly made crusty artisan bread.
The Transportation
After a good night's sleep I was off to explore Bucharest.
There are four ways to get around Bucharest. You can either walk, take a taxi, take a bus, or take a subway. I partook in all four methods.
Obviously, walking close distances is the easiest and cheapest means.
There were plenty of sidewalks and the city felt very safe and comfortable. Never did I feel endangered.
Judging by how thin the Romanian people are, I would guess they also do a lot of walking.
The next cheapest means is the bus. A bus ride to anywhere along its route costs $0.30 US.
You purchase a ticket at ticket dispensers throughout the city and hop on a bus.
The buses were all very modern and clean, however, most did lack air conditioning, so on a hot August day in a crowded bus, it could get pretty steamy in there.
The subway system in Bucharest is extensive and modern and can take you from one side of the city to the other.
The subways also seemed very safe and I didn't observe any shady characters loitering in the subway areas.
One trip on the subway cost about $0.50.
And the final way is taxi. These are prevalent in most areas and are easily accessible.
The taxi drivers seemed to have limited English speaking abilities but that also varied widely.
A word of caution, the price per kilometer is clearly posted on the door of every yellow cab, and this can vary from $0.50/km to $1.50/km.
Always look for the taxis that charge 1.4 Leu/km (~$0.50/km).
People
Before I discuss the details of my trip, I would like to talk about the people of Romania.
I found the people of Romania to be generally thin and attractive.
The Romanian people seem to be taller than the world average and predominantly brunette.
But more importantly, it was the kindness and extreme generosity of every single person I met on my two-week adventure.
People who never met me before would take me into their homes and welcome me as a member of their own family.
Since I spoke no Romanian, and many Romanians have at least some English ability, they would attempt to speak English whenever possible to make me feel more comfortable.
And finally, the Romanians are extremely proud people.
They are proud of their country, proud of their history, proud of their place in the world and everything they have achieved.
I really enjoyed meeting new people and creating new friends in a faraway land.
________
About the Author: Karl is a physicist and avid photographer who only recently decided to set out and explore the world with his camera. Catch more of his adventures at https://facebook.com/kbarth
Like all canny backpackers, I'm sure you know the benefits of cultivating friends living in foreign countries. Leaving aside the cynicism for a moment, though, catching up with people you worked with, went to college with, or met on the road who are now living the expat life in places like Albania is an excellent opportunity to see places from an insider's perspective (and, of course, get a free bed for a couple of nights and a chance to do your laundry).
Recently, as part of a backpacking holiday in Albania and Greece, we spent a long weekend in Tirana. It was a chance to catch up with an old friend from Wellington who had relocated there via Krakow, Warsaw, and Varna and to see Tirana across a weekend of day-tripping, eating, watching ballet, and the Mother Teresa half-marathon.
When I'd told friends in the UK I was off to Albania, eyebrows were raised. Even the well-traveled told me to watch my back. I didn't know anyone who had been to the country before, so I was surprised when my Friday night British Airways flight from Gatwick was full - of Albanians!
A quick Skyscanner check revealed plenty of flights via Italy, and one of the pleasant surprises of our Tirana visit was the brilliant Italian food and coffee. Italy has a large Albanian population, and the Italians have obviously reciprocated, so be prepared for many macchiatos, pizzas, and seafood pasta dishes.
Steve and his family live a classic expat lifestyle. Their children attend an international school, through which they've met most of their friends, primarily other English-speaking families living away from their own countries. They enjoy a European lifestyle in a country with third- or maybe second-world prices and infrastructure.
Steve collected us from the airport and drove us back to his rented home in the dark. We talked till late (lots to catch up with) and then headed out of town the following day to visit a nearby mountain village.
Albania is blessed with three UNESCO World Heritage Sites, and Berat is one of them. It's a pretty enough spot with a hilltop castle, but lunch at the Mangalemi was a highlight. The waiting staff skilfully upsold us to byrek (local spinach and cheese pie), plates of grilled meat (the Albanians like to eat sheep), salad, french fries and bread. And the recommended local Birra Tirana.
Food was a theme for our weekend. We ate out often and well-and usually Italian. This was handy for carbo-loading the blokes running the half-marathon on Sunday morning.
Steve had managed to register (or rather, get someone from his office to register him and Max). However, on Sunday morning, Mother Teresa Square was still a reassuringly chaotic scene as people milled about wondering where to collect their race numbers.
The event started 20 minutes late (all athletes reading this will be horrified) and comprised seven loops of cobblestone, hill, and broken pavement (again, not what the runners ordered).
But loops this short made for easy spectating, so we settled on the side of the road to watch a couple of hundred hardy souls hurtle past again and again. I haven't mentioned the weather, but it was to be a feature the whole time we were in Albania: a pattern of torrential rain followed by bright sunshine and rising temperatures.
After our run, we had lunch outside in another excellent Italian restaurant in the Taiwan complex. Then, we drove to the beach at Durres for a paddle to soothe tight calf muscles. We dashed back to Tirana in time to catch the first rainstorm of the evening en route to the Opera House and a ballet performance.
It was all very lovely, and the low price of tickets (300 lek each, around $3) was an insight into how important and accessible cultural activities are in this part of the world. The theatre was full - of families, groups of young people, and those expats again, all enjoying a classy performance at a budget price.
Our last dinner in Tirana was at the lovely Vila Logoreci, where we feasted on seafood, salad, and good house wine. Local expats guided us to great restaurants and advised us on what to order once we were there.
The value of this advice was revealed when, after only a couple of days of taking care of ourselves, I became ill. I'm not sure where or why, but I'd say the local food had something to do with it.
We had a different experience in Tirana when we stayed with friends. It was enlightening to talk with them and their friends about the realities of living and working in Albania and the problems with healthcare and schooling options for their children.
We also got limited insight into the local political situation, especially concerning Kosovo. The woman winner of the half-marathon was a Kosovar, and she took to the stage to collect her prize from the Vatican representative (the event was, after all, in honor of Mother Teresa), proudly wearing a Kosovo T-shirt.
However, one side effect of staying with expats is a certain distance from the locals. As we traveled south through Albania, we got more opportunities to chat with local people, often in a disjointed way, as English is not widely spoken, and neither our Albanian nor Italian (the number 2 language) are up to much.
They were all curious about why we were visiting and where we were from. Sadly, many of them were looking for a future beyond Albanian shores. The country has had a rough ride since the isolationist regime of Envers Hoxha ended with his death in 1985 and the subsequent collapse of the Eastern Bloc, and it is still visibly poverty-stricken.
The population is in decline thanks to both legal and illicit migration to Western Europe, and this made me wonder how smooth our border crossing into Greece would be, accompanied by a busload of Albanians. No problem, as it turned out. It took about an hour to process us out of Albania and into rural Greece's comparative wealth and order.
_____
About the Author: Deborah O'Kane has 25 years of backpacking experience under her (money) belt. Her longest stint on the road was six months in Africa, the first step in her mid-life relocation from New Zealand to the UK. She now lives in London and visits Europe frequently. Follow her on Twitter @debokane.
As well as the wonderful weather, beautiful beaches, friendly people and delicious food, traveling in Thailand is a backpacker's dream because it can be incredibly cheap.
Of course, like most countries used to the tourist dollar, there are international restaurants and five-star hotels that charge international money, especially in tourist hot spots such as Bangkok and Phuket.
However, it is still easy to eat and drink on backpacker funds, you just need to know where to go, what to look out for and a few simple tips that will ingratiate yourself with the locals.
Eating
Thai food is one of the most delicious cuisines in the world. Just thinking about steaming pots of fiery tom yam goong (spicy sweet and sour prawn soup flavored with chili and lemongrass), plates of pad thai with fat prawns nestling amongst noodles glistening with sticky sauce and accompanied by tiny mounds of roasted peanuts, shredded chili and wedges of fresh lime, bowls of rich green chicken curry and fragrant jasmine rice, and sweet, juicy slices of mango with creamy sticky rice is making me salivate.
Gorging on Thai food is perhaps one of the best reasons to visit the country, food is certainly important to the Thais, a religion coming only second to Buddhism in importance.
Their appetites are insatiable and they're always thinking about their next meal or snack.
Because of this, street food vendors line every street, from rural areas to cities, and the food they dish up is utterly divine.
The capital, especially, is choked with street vendors so venture out of your Bangkok hotel and hit the streets.
You can get pretty much everything from these masterful chef-vendors, who cook it all up in a wok in front of you.
Anything from chicken satays, to fried noodles, to ice cream sandwiches can be bought, from as little as 5 or 10 baht (under $1).
If eating in a restaurant, remember that Thai food is meant to be shared and as such the portions can be large, get together with a group of fellow backpackers, order fewer dishes than there are people and eat a feast whilst spending less.
Drinking
Local beer is cheap and plentiful and is surprisingly good. Singha, Leo, and Chang are the local beers and Beer Laos (which is, unsurprisingly, from Laos) is also cheap.
Buy an imported beer and, with Thailand's heavy import duties, you could pay up to double the price of a local beer. Besides, you can drink Corona or Budweiser anywhere.
You're in Thailand, be adventurous and drink Thai beer, they have been created to wash down spicy food so you may find you actually prefer them.
Expect also to pay top dollar for wine and cocktails made with imported spirits. If you're after something a little stronger than beer, drink like a local and order a SamSong (local whiskey) and cola.
Traveling is all about experiencing new things so step out of your accommodation in Phuket, Bangkok or Chiang Mai and savor new tastes.
There's a lot you can learn about a country and its people through its food, especially somewhere as food-obsessed as Thailand.
Eat like a local and pay like a local. The Thais are a happy bunch so give them a winning smile and you might just get a further discount!
I've chalked up a collective 10 months of living in South America so far. I've attended the annual Carnival in Colombia, and the week long Flower Festival in Medellin.
But Halloween in Medellin, my friends, may be my favorite party event of the year. The Colombians go all out with their costumes, and many of the clubs stage elaborate decorations to set the mood.
Here are a few of my favorite photos from 3 nights out at 4 different clubs.
I had the unique opportunity to travel to Romania with a native Romanian as my tour guide.
I was able to see a far more significant portion of the country than a typical tourist would be able to.
Below are my first impressions of Bucharest, Romania, which make up the first of ten weekly installments from my adventure.
I left Newark's Liberty Airport on a British Airways Boeing 777 bound for London's Heathrow airport.
This was the most comfortable flight I have ever taken.
The seats had more room than most domestic flights in the USA, plus drinks and meals were included in the ticket price, as well as your choice of several movies.
The flight flew by!
I was not impressed with Heathrow airport. After getting off the plane, there were many security screenings and checkpoints to get back into the airport.
There were only a few eating/drinking establishments mixed in with several shops to wait out your layover.
From there it was off to a smaller jet for the 3 hour trip from London to Bucharest, Romania!
I landed at the International Airport in Bucharest, Romania, on August 7th, 2010.
Immigration and customs were swift and smooth.
I just got a smile and heavily accented, " Welcome to Romania."
Upon landing, I made two quick observations.
One, it was HOT.
The temperature there was mid to upper 90's with high humidity.
Second, most of the Romanian people were in very good shape and very attractive.
I have never seen such a large population of thin, gorgeous women. I liked Romania immediately.
As we drove through the streets of Bucharest, I was immediately struck by the stark contrast in architectural styles present in the many buildings of the city.
Many of the buildings were reminiscent of the Ceausescu era of Romanian communism.
The buildings were gray and drab with very plain and minimalistic looking lines.
However, sparsely intermixed within these lackluster buildings were some incredible, vibrant, and intoxicatingly ornate buildings that were spared the destruction of communism.
We then proceeded to an apartment complex where we would be spending the evening.
This was a large apartment complex consisting of approximately 15 buildings that all looked identical in the plain architectural stylings.
All the buildings were approximately five floors high, and each apartment contained a small balcony.
As with any big city, space is at a premium, and every square inch is fully utilized.
The apartments were approximately 800 square feet and contained a small kitchen, a living room, bathroom, and one to two bedrooms.
You certainly learn to appreciate the amount of space one has in the suburbs of the US when you see a family of four able to live and function in a one-bedroom 800 square foot apartment.
However, this confined space does not diminish the spirit of the friendly, courteous, and generous Romanian people as they learn to cherish other things in life than material possessions.
________
About the Author: Karl is a physicist and avid photographer who only recently decided to set out and explore the world with his camera. Catch more of his adventures at https://facebook.com/kbarth
The following is a guest post by Deborah O'Kane.
Having read Viv McCarthy's post on the benefits of overland tours versus independent backpacking in Africa, I am inspired to add my two kwacha's worth to the debate.
I appreciate there's no simple answer to the question of what's "best", and in my experience, there's a place for both options, though personally, I'd err heavily on the side of independent traveling.
But only if you're resourceful, adaptable and have a few dollars at your disposal for the inevitable dramas you'll encounter.
If you do, I guarantee you life-enhancing, deeply moving and unforgettable experiences and encounters.
My husband and I quit our jobs in early 2007 and flew to Johannesburg.
We visited Durban, Swaziland and then Baz-bussed around the coast.
Our travels started in earnest with a 12-hour bus trip from Cape Town to Keetmanshoop in Namibia.
Carrying a tent, sleeping bag and cooking kit in our backpacks we spent the next couple of months wandering in a haphazard way towards Nairobi, and our date with a Nomad trip to Rwanda and the mountain gorillas.
Between times we had many campsite encounters with overland travelers.
Seeing them often coincided with that sinking feeling as a dozen or more 20-somethings arrived in an enormous truck, music blaring, generally taking over the campsite and destroying any sense of intimacy with the local landscape, animals or the people.
We'd read en route of people who'd abandoned their pre-paid trip after a few weeks, desperate to get away from irritating fellow passengers and the booze-driven itineraries or wanting a slower and more genuine "Africa" experience.
We chatted with a few of these young overlanders, most of whom expressed amazement or even disbelief at our own plans.
They were generally pleasant young people, often bold on the surface but actually completely freaked out at the idea of being left to their own devices in this most mysterious continent.
Having done their obligatory six weeks volunteering in some orphanage or school, they were now using their parents' credit cards to nip around a few African highlights to add to their brag card when they eventually returned to England, Germany, Australia or the US to pick up university studies.
Naturally, these encounters made us nervous about what our own overland experience would be like.
We'd booked an organized tour for this portion of our six-month Africa sojourn for a few reasons.
While I love my husband to bits, after three months in a tent with each other we figured we could probably both do with some other company for a bit; getting permits to visit the mountain gorillas seemed like a hit and miss business and this way we'd be assured of getting to see them; it would feel like a "holiday" within the trip - a couple of weeks when we wouldn't have to make lots of decisions but could just sit back and enjoy the ride.
And so it was. We were fortunate that our eight companions were like-minded souls, or like-minded enough anyway.
We had a lot of fun, saw parts of Uganda and Rwanda that we probably wouldn't have otherwise visited, and yes, got to see the wonderful gorillas.
Our leaders were local Kenyans, kindly and caring, and the truck was a comfortable way to travel through challenging mountain and jungle roads.
We couldn't help but notice how much trickier borders become with a truckful of foreigners to get across.
We were used to walking freely from one country to another.
But, whatever happened, it wasn't our problem and we learned to take a back seat, leaving anxious frontier discussions and decisions on routes to others.
However, these two weeks were a mere blip on the months of unfettered travel we otherwise enjoyed.
How to put a price on arriving at a Botswana campsite after 12 hours of traveling from the Caprivi Strip - via ferry, taxi, the back of a ute and finally a bus - and to be upgraded from a tent site to a bungalow by the friendly owner who obviously took pity on our disheveled state?
Or the time an elegant African man politely wished us goodbye after sharing our bus for eight hours in self-contained silence, before returning to show off his twin babies to us through the bus windows.
Or spending a couple of hours near the Eritrean border amusing local Ethiopian boys with my digital camera, waiting for Max to emerge from the men-only monastery of Debre Damo.
Or sleeping alone under the stars (and the sand!) at the pyramids of Meroe in Sudan, before hitching back to Khartoum with a local truck driver.
Our own unique experiences of Africa were deeper, more meaningful and memorable because they were ours, and ours alone.
No-one else could write the story of our trip.
Working out a route, negotiating rides, waiting for hours at the side of the road with the locals for a bus that never comes, and then moving to Plan B as night falls doesn't just make for a good yarn.
It grows you in a way that being driven to a campsite just won't.
Use the tours if you want, just make sure it's on your own terms.
___________
About the Author: Deborah O'Kane has 25 years of backpacking under her (money) belt. Six months in Africa has been her longest stint on the road and was the first step in a mid-life relocation from New Zealand to the UK. She now lives in London from where she visits Europe frequently and runs a blog BasedinLondon. Follow her on Twitter @debokane.
A year ago, when I opened Go Backpacking up to contributors, I got an email from Troy Floyd, an American traveler/photographer/blogger who wanted to share some of his ideas and images.
The instant I saw his photography, I knew I wanted to work with him.
Over the next several months, I began to feature portrait photos from the "Faces" series at his blog, FOGGOdyssey.com.
I admired the way he got up close to people, capturing the details in their faces, and how he used editing software to enhance the original photos, making them more vibrant and colorful.
My first exposure to Adobe Photoshop Lightroom was during my Rwanda trip this past April.
As it was a social media press trip, my group included Eric Lafforgue, a BBC photographer on assignment for Lonely Planet, and Peter Stuckings, a freelancer based in Vietnam.
By merely being in their presence, I improved as a photographer. However, I still figured editing photos was over my head.
To further grow as a photographer this year, I bought a Canon S90 before leaving for Colombia in June.
Not only was it recommended by Jodi at Legal Nomads (and I knew she did her homework before buying one), it allowed me the opportunity to shoot in RAW. This meant I would have more leeway to edit my photos versus shooting in JPG, should the desire arise down the road.
And arise it did, after returning to Medellin and hanging around Troy for 3 ½ months.
It was like hanging around Eric and Peter, but for a prolonged period.
Not only would I be with Troy when he was taking photos, but I'd also see what they looked like after he edited them.
Before he left Colombia a few days ago, we sat down together, and he gave me a tutorial on Lightroom and file management (which becomes essential when you're amassing tens of thousands of photos).
Below are some of my early attempts to take old travel photos and spruce them up through the magic of Lightroom.
As I found my style and voice through writing here every day for close to four years, I know I will eventually develop my photo-editing abilities too.
Here are a few before/after examples from my experience getting started with Lightroom.
And be sure to tell me what you think! If you have any specific feedback (positive or constructive) on specific "after" photos, please share in the comments section below.
This was supposed to be my "making you jealous from a beach in the South Pacific" photo, but overcast skies and a Canon Powershot 6MP camera (on a low-quality setting) left me with a dull result.
Together with Troy, we highlighted the turquoise waters, warmed up the sand with yellows, and gave the clouds some definition.
We also brightened up my face to help draw the viewer's focus.
On a snorkel trip around Moorea, we passed by these luxury bungalows.
With the lush green mountain backdrop and the dolphin swimming to the right, I thought this photo would reflect the paradise I was visiting.
But again, overcast skies and a low-quality photo left it looking bland.
I used a Lightroom preset called "General - Punch" to pump some life back into the shot.
I then tweaked the brightness, exposure, and contrast to show some definition in the clouds.
Back on Tahiti, I ate the pork being cooked in this photo as my last supper before heading on to New Zealand in the morning.
Again, overcast skies, combined with a setting sun, diminished the available light.
I used another Lightroom preset to give me a quick 1-click improvement and then adjusted individual settings for both practice, and to ensure the photo looked the way I wanted.
I was specifically focused on brightening the flowers painted on the truck and warming up the fire.
Often, looking back at the photos from my 'round the world trip, I remember a much more vibrant scene than was captured on camera.
When I took this night photo of the Sky Tower in Auckland, the picture on the right is closer to what I saw then how it came out originally on the left.
In Lightroom, I did a little crop to focus attention on the Sky Tower, removed dust spots, and brightened the greens and reds.
As my Lightroom tutorial with Troy wound down, I started editing this photo from New Zealand, which is one of my all-time favorites.
It was too stormy at Cathedral Cove for us to go sea kayaking, so we hung out for a bit, looking at the rough waters.
One of the backpackers on our bus hopped up on the rock, his boots dangling from his hand.
The silhouette of him against the sea says "contemplation" to me. Troy helped tweak it a little further.
As I get started editing photos, I'm sure I will be over-editing many of them.
Adding too much saturation, too much color, and turning natural landscapes and people's skin tones into what I think looks good. But it might end up unappealing to everyone else.
As Troy suggested, I'm going to chalk it up to the learning process.
In the case of this photo on Lake Taupo, I took a more subtle approach, and I think it shows how a few small improvements can make a big difference.
While visiting the historic San Antonio neighborhood of Cali, Colombia, Troy took a few photos of me against a variety of painted buildings.
In this photo, he was drawn by the textures, so in Lightroom, I darkened it up a bit, which brought out the texture of the blue area of the wall.
I brightened my face and tried to add a little to the orange without going overboard.
The photo didn't need to be cropped; it's precisely how Troy framed the shot with my camera.
Sea to Summit was founded by several mountain climbing enthusiasts who loved to travel light with as little as possible.
They provide innovative gear for every traveler, from the urban day-tripper to the backpacker taking a gap year across the Americas.
Their latest designs feature their Ultra-Sil fabric that is exceptionally lightweight and durable, the perfect combo for demanding travelers.
The TravellingLight series of products makes it possible to bring what you want without having to worry about your luggage and gear adding extra weight.
The biggest surprise of the Sea To Summit Travelling Light gear offered up for review on Go Backpacking was the Ultra-Sil Sling Bag.
It came packed down to the size of a cell phone and weighed only 64 grams.
Then it was like opening a gift. Suddenly, the ball turned into a large bag complete with a shoulder sling and zipper.
I was skeptical at first because nothing that lightweight is ever strong, and I highly doubted it would go back to its original tiny form.
The Sling Bag proved me wrong on both accounts. I loaded it up at the farmer's market and then easily put it back in the tiny ball-like form once I got home.
The shoulder strap was very comfortable, and although I'm not a massive supporter of man purses or "murses," I felt the bag looked good hanging across my body (yes, the shoulder strap is that long).
You can carry this thing anywhere you go, even attached to your key chain or easily stuffed in your backpack.
The bag doesn't require more packing space and doesn't add any significant weight to your trip.
I may feel a little more like a soccer mom carrying it around. Still, this is my favorite item from the TravellingLight product line when it comes to practicality and usability.
Best Uses: Traveling, grocery shopping, school books, laptop bag, seashell searching (say that three times fast), etc.
Pros: Packability, Ultra-Sil strength and bar-tacked stitching, lightweight, comfortable with a heavy load, long shoulder strap, zipper, stylish
Cons: None
It might be time to ditch those Ziploc freezer bags and convert them to an actual toiletry bag.
The TravellingLight Toiletry Cell can hold enough supplies for even the most hygienic folks.
It has space to fit 7 liters of your bathroom essentials and gives you three zippered pockets on the inside to keep organized.
I haven't been able to test this idea just yet, but I imagine the main benefit of the Ultra-Sil fabric on the toiletry cell is that it will keep fluids both out and IN!
Everyone has a bottle of shampoo explode at least once in their travels, and keeping it off of your clothes and backpack is a priority.
The bag has a padded, stand-up design and can open up all the way, giving you easy access to your supplies.
Since my bathroom kit is minimal, I was happy that the Toiletry Cell was easy to fold/roll to fit into tight spots in my luggage while remaining organized.
The Ziploc's will be missed, but there is no going back after trying this bag out a few times.
Best Uses: Loading up all the bathroom supplies you can imagine, short and long trips, lightweight travel, tight packing trips
Pros: Ultra-Sil is water-resistant, keeping any spills on the inside, padded walls protect bag's contents, stand-up design, durable YKK zipper, easy to pack
Cons: One more lengthwise divider through the middle would make organizing even easier
Every traveler has multiple IDs, credit cards, insurance cards, confirmation letters, emergency contact lists, and a slew of other documents to keep track of while on the road.
That is why every traveler also has a good travel wallet.
There are hundreds of wallets on the market, but not many can compare to the standards Sea to Summit has set with their TravellingLight Travel Wallet.
With more than enough organization options on the interior, you can quickly access all of your essential documents.
The external sleeve is excellent for your boarding pass or any document you need to frequently access, such as a local map when you're lost and asking for directions.
Most importantly, Sea to Summit built a travel wallet with the durable and lightweight Ultra-Sil fabric that keeps water from ruining your documents.
To put the cherry on top of all the great features, they added a pen holder and a nifty little zippered coin pouch on the inside of the wallet.
My old travel wallet is being given away as a gift because the TravellingLight wallet is perfect for my unorganized, rough, and clumsy travel personality.
Best Uses: Important document storage, all types of travel
Pros: Water-resistant, ultra-lightweight, durability, eight card slots, multiple organizing sleeves, fits in jacket or pants pocket
Cons: None
Weighing in at only 37 grams, the medium (2 liters) See Pouch is perfect for organizing smaller items that can easily get lost in your big bags.
On my last international backpacking trip, there were numerous times where I had to dig to the bottom of a stuffed backpack to find a cell phone charger, Leatherman tool, headlamp, etc.
The thought of organizing all my small gadgets into one easily accessible pouch never even occurred to me before my trip.
Now that I have the See Pouch, the benefits are noticeable on short weekend trips and even around the house.
For longer trips where you need to pack light and concise, do not leave without the medium See Pouch to save you time and sanity.
Best Uses: Long backpacking trips, short weekend vacations, keeping organized at home
Pros: Extremely lightweight, easy to pack, stand up design when full, water-resistant, and durable Ultra-Sil fabric.
Cons: New version with mesh fabric is not as see-through as I would have liked
I used to backpack because the only other options - i.e. organized tours - I couldn't afford. Also because I wanted to spend months overseas - not weeks (or days). My only option was independent travel - the stuff that backpackers do.
But now, as I get ready to hit the road again - I consider - why don't I just organize a river cruise in Europe, a nice resort in southern Thailand and have done with it?
Because I don't have to. You see I'm not too old to backpack. I'm not too old to carry a small pack (I could in fact carry a large one - but I'm too lazy).
I am old enough to know that this gives me the freedom to hop on and off buses, boats, tuk-tuk's, motorbikes and airplanes without needing porters or luggage trolleys.
I don't want to miss out on the randomness of arriving at a Thai Island and then figuring out where to stay.
I know I may hate the place that others loved and find the beach that I looked forward too washed away by last week's storm.
Or I may fall in love with the cut-price cocktails late at night and the breakfast bakery and fail to make the 10 am boat (every day, for a week). But that's OK cause I don't have any reservations to miss.
I can still get travel insurance - well for most of my body anyway (they haven't covered the knees since the Himalayan incident ).
I don't need oxygen or an extra bag to carry my medications. If I get too hot, too cold, bitten by insects and even bounced off the back of a motorbike - it won't kill me.
I know how to recognize a scam from several paces, and I know never to leave my pack several paces away from my body. I know my new found friend wants to sell me something - but sometimes its fun to find out what.
I can afford to backpack - because I don't have to. I can afford the comfortable 4-star hotel for a few nights stop-over when I will be jet-lagged and on the way home.
If I get sick I will check into a nice place with large beds, functioning air con and room service.
I know if the taxi driver won't bargain with me I can walk away. I know how not to get myself stranded in a remote location with a taxi driver who wants to up the price.
I know that I will have a better time traveling in a random manner. Choosing when to go and when to stay.
I know I won't miss the Louvre because on the day the tour group was organized to go there I had to replace a stolen passport.
I know that if I get sick I can stop and get well. I know that getting ill hardly ever lasts for more than a day or two and then I can just pick up my itinerary where I left off with it.
I know that a backpacker, or as they are called now, flashpackers, has the ultimate freedom. We can choose to tour or not tour, to stay or go, to spend more money or less.
I know that I can travel for several months for the same price that most people my age would spend on 3 weeks travel. And have a better time. And see more than they will ever see.
So when are we too old to backpack?
When we can't handle uncertainty, change, different food, and unusual hotels. When we need to know what the day will bring, and when we will have lunch.
When we are worried about mixing with people who don't look like us, don't speak English and will probably stare at our odd, pale skin.
I have friends who were too old to backpack at 20, and one who was still traveling independently in her 80s. Backpacking is a state of mind - and has nothing at all to do with age.
___________
About the Author: This is a guest post by Lis Sowerbutts who is suddenly closer to 50 than 20 but still hasn't figured out what she's going to do when she grows up. Lis writes about independent travel at her site for the older backpacker: midlifetravel.com. Lis has been traveling independently for the last 25 years.
The following is a guest post by Viv McCarthy of Acacia Africa. If you'd like to guest post on Go Backpacking, please read our submission guidelines.
Do overlanders and backpackers have anything in common?
Unfortunately, there's no straight answer to the question, and the majority of independent travelers could be forgiven for thinking that tour based " adventurism" is just way too contrived. After all, it's the spontaneity of solo wandering that really does it for the singleton heading off on the road alone. Then again, when you have Africa at your feet, that " on a whim" notion becomes part and parcel of the whole travel experience, however you decide to dig it. And most people, whether tour leaders or tour buddies have learnt to deal with (and enjoyed) the well, unexpected!
But more to the point, why should you hop on a truck with 24 other continent curious safari goers, especially if you're a one of a kind nomad? Before you draw a line through the idea completely, here are some bona fide reasons for biting the bullet and overlanding in Africa.
Friendships
Want to hook up out on the road? Alex Garland's novel might have faded into the ether over the years, but we've all happened upon those unfortunate urban-travel myths. Switch your guard off over a few Tusker beers in Nairobi, and your seemingly rational choice of travel companion could be a thorn in your side only a few days into your backpacking mission. Of course, if you're in need of a hasty escape route you can always throw the odd white lie into the equation. Feigning illness, visa irregularities or a death in the family have always been popular options, but why bother when trucking across the continent could make the whole post solo journey much less painless?
On an organized trip you'll be interacting with a range of adventurers (and more importantly " travel buddy" watching). Put simply, there's just no comparison between overlanding and those brief hostel compatibility checks, and after two weeks or more, you'll know if you're going to be compadres on the continent or just plain destined for disaster after the expedition is out.
Africa Virgins!, Whether it's down to safety or general awareness, breaching out into the unknown with little more than a guidebook and a confident " I've done this before" mentality, is not an assurance that all will be alright on the trip. We travel because we want to step into the undiscovered, and not because we feel comfortable having crossed a few destinations off our list.
Africa has the ability to leave even the most cultured of travelers fumbling at the first location, and while a five to eight week overland itinerary might sound suffocating to the established backpacker, there are some handy bite-size jaunts on offer. Short and sweet options of fewer than two weeks won't be too invasive when it comes to your personal travel time, and you'll have more common sense when it comes to going it alone.
Career gapper envy? As your departure date nears, your rat race friends will no doubt be salivating over your adventurous plans. But sadly, there are two sides to every story, and that once in a lifetime solo jaunt can take its toll on even the most ardent of explorers. Yes, for every burn out career victim there's likely to be a nomad in similar dire straits, so if you're in it for the long haul, an overlanding break is a great opportunity to sit back and enjoy the ride sans the logistics!
Trailblazers Unite! Some parts of Africa are still relatively undiscovered, and Zimbabwe is certainly one of the hot spots for the David Livingstone-esque junkie. For obvious reasons, it's not on everyone's hit list, but if you're a modern day explorer, now is the time to hit the trail. Those crowd free game drives in the Hwange National Park won't be on offer for long, and there's just something about traveling through a country that hasn't hit the mainstream.
Of course, jumping in all gung-ho isn't a no-no, but a registered tour operator will be constantly monitoring the situation on the ground, peace of mind for anyone choosing to wander through more avant-garde Africa.
According to the blogging community, voluntourism has retained its status, as the major buzzword in travel. Trawl the net and you'll find a never-ending list of non-profit organizations willing you to pitch in, closely followed by a multitude of principled adventurers with an even longer list of reasons to give back. Not wanting to burst your ethical bubble, but no one individual is the same, and it might be better to get your feet wet on a short stint before going the whole hog. A brief voluntour experience on an overland expedition could give you some welcome insight on what to expect when signing up to similar projects, and a well-rounded appreciation of what's required before making a more serious commitment.
So backpackers, don't throw the towel in when it comes to booking a tour, as an organized itinerary could expand your " travel-psyche" in more ways than one!
____________
About the Author: Vivian McCarthy is the General Manager of Acacia Africa, a company that specializes in offering overland and small group safaris, adventure holidays, voluntours, city and beach breaks & tented lodge safaris. He visits Africa once or twice a year and has a particular soft spot for Kenya, Tanzania and Uganda, because, he says, " these places are less simply less predictable, and that's part of the joy of traveling." Follow Acacia Africa on Twitter @AcaciaAfrica.
Photo Credit: All photos courtesy of Acacia Africa.
Cali is Colombia's 3rd largest city and regarded as the country's capital for salsa dancing.
Amongst backpackers traveling through the country, Cali has a reputation for being a party destination.
After a year and a half of working on my salsa skills, I felt it was finally time to put them to the test.
Along with Troy and another friend, I flew the 30 minutes from Medellin via Avianca for a 5-day weekend focused on sampling the nightlife in Cali, Colombia myself.
I have a secret I've been keeping for close to eight months now. And no, I'm not about to become a father!
This past February, I attended the New York Times Travel Show and won a drawing for a free trip to Tokyo, Japan.
The prize, courtesy of Japan's tourism office, included round-trip airfare on Continental Airlines, a two-night hotel stay, a $150 train voucher, and, oddly, a small (cheap) sculpture of a "lucky cat," which was mailed to my home.
I gave little consideration to visiting Japan on my trip around the world, writing it off as too expensive. And while I enjoyed sushi and learning about Buddhism at the time, I have a deeper appreciation for both due to the last few years.
Also, in talking to other travelers who have either been to Japan or speak of it as a dream destination with a sparkle in their eye, I've become a little more curious about what the country and culture have to offer.
Earlier this year, I considered taking the trip in late August or early September, so I would be in a position (weather-wise) to climb Mt. Fuji, the highest peak in the country. When my parent's sold their house, my priority was a return to Colombia.
The hotel stay, only two nights, expired after six months, as did the train voucher. The real prize, in the form of the round trip airfare, is valid for 12 months.
As my second stint in Colombia closes in mid-December, I'm preparing to book my flights.
After celebrating New Year's Eve in various foreign cities, such as Christchurch and Paris, I can't resist the idea of celebrating in Tokyo.
Once the NYE partying dies down, I'd look forward to:
Have you been to Tokyo or that region of Japan?
If yes, please share a few suggestions on what I should do there. I'm giving myself about two weeks, excluding the transit, days to/from Washington, DC.
This is the biggest prize I've ever won, so the next time you're at a travel show, be sure to enter those drawings because people win them!
The funny thing about dreams is that once you achieve one, you become a heck of a lot more self-assured about what you can do in life.
I'm hardly an impetuous person, so it took me five and a half years to embark on my dream trip around the world.
And as those travels became fully realized, it was only natural to take stock of the new me, and come up with a new dream to pursue.
Last year, my experiences traveling and blogging coalesced into one succinct desire:
Location Independence!
I want to make enough money from blogging to live and work anywhere in the world.
Four months ago, my parents sold their house in Virginia, and I knew it was my opportunity to take a leap of faith and see if Dream 2.0 was feasible.
I moved back to Medellin, Colombia, to continue building a location independent business from a foreign city I already knew and loved.
While I've been tracking my monthly online income for four years now, I had no way to predict what would happen going forward.
Would building websites continue to pay off, affording me the lifestyle I sought in Colombia and beyond, or...
...would I have to return home in a few months, tail between my legs, with my meager savings, once again depleted?
Thankfully, I can report that my income has risen to new heights since leaving home.
To paraphrase Paul Coehlo from The Alchemist, when you really want something, the universe conspires to help you achieve it.
And the lifestyle I imagined for myself those 11 months living and working in my parent's spare bedroom, including location independence, is now my day-to-day reality in Medellin.
I've settled into a new, 20th-floor apartment with mountain views.
Wilson, one of my Colombian roommates, enjoys cooking. Therefore, I'm treated to homemade Colombian meals regularly.
He has a genial old Labrador named Tobias who lays around all day, ensuring my blood pressure never gets too high.
My other roommate, Jorge, is a friendly medical student though hardly ever around.
It's a 10-minute walk to the gym, which I try and hit three times a week.
And it's a 10-minute walk in the opposite direction to the dance studio where I take private salsa lessons.
I've made a few good friends since returning, developed an appreciation for babies, and had more than a few fun dates.
I've continued to explore Colombia, visiting big cities such as Cali, and small pueblos like Guatape.
My Spanish is better than ever, and if I dedicated time to studying it every day, fluency wouldn't be far off.
However, in spite of all the positives that come with this new lifestyle of mine, I've had a nagging feeling that I could be managing my time better.
I have a half dozen different projects I want to pursue, yet I've not started down the path to developing any of them since leaving home.
While I'm making enough to keep the same course in Colombia, or any number of other countries such as Thailand or Argentina, I need to work a little harder if I want to continue to see more of this world, and live in places which light up my imagination: Rio de Janeiro, Venice, Paris, New York City.