Archive for the ‘Rants’ category

Christchurch: Quake Photos

April 10th, 2011

It was a month after the most recent quake when I arrived in Christchurch. Most of the city center is still closed off, allowing only brief, escorted visits for residents to retrieve essential belongings. These photos are only from outside that safety cordon.

While traveling, I’ve often whined about things that didn’t go the way I’d planned. There’s a tendency to dramatize the impact of unfortunate things that happen in our lives to make for a compelling story.

This is a stark reminder that there’s a huge difference between inconvenience and tragedy.

If you’d like to donate to those in need, you can do so here: http://www.redcross.org.nz/2011christchurchearthquake

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Damn, You’re a Sexy Beach

January 9th, 2011

Looking over the top of my computer, there’s nothing in front of me that’s not blue. Blue water, blue sky. I’m sitting at a table on Koh Lanta with the Andaman Sea filling my field of vision.

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I have a love/hate relationship with the beach. I love the views, the sunsets, the scenery, the bikinis. Relaxing with a book in a beach chair is one of the great pleasures in my life. But there are a few things I don’t like.

Unfortunately, the sun hates me.

To be fair, it’s really not the sun’s fault. I have pigmentation issues that leave large swaths of my face and body unprotected, even in the wispy sun on a cloudy day and even with a strong sunscreen.

My vitiligo didn’t kick in until I was 40. It’s rare for the condition to develop at that age, so I’m one of the lucky ones. It manifests much earlier for most people.

It’s not an uncommon condition. Estimates are that 1% of the population have it in some degree. For Caucasians who rarely see the sun, it can be virtually unnoticeable. It’s a lot more evident in those who have dark complexions.

My selection of a hobby that involves 8 hour cycling trips in the sun was less than ideal. Even with the highest SPF sunscreen covering the exposed parts of my face and body, I still tan in some places while other parts of me stay lily-white. If the Guernsey cow look ever became fashionable, I’d be all set.

Fortunately, sunbathing has never been an activity I’ve enjoyed in the first place. It’s just such a dull way to spend a beautiful day. That said, though, I love to sit in the shade reading a book on the beach because the natural beauty that shows up when you exit the world of words provides a wonderful transition back to real life.

This week, I’ve been suffering from a horrendous sunburn. Considering the care in which I apply sunscreen because of the aforementioned pigmentation challenges, that should never happen. Sadly, I can also be a bit dense.

Knowing that I didn’t want to get any sun, I stayed under a beach umbrella for an entire day as I joined my friends at a beautiful beach on Phuket – a somewhat hidden and relatively secluded patch of sand, far from the insanity and crowds of Patong or Karon beaches. I knew that I would still get a bit of sun from the reflection off the water. What I didn’t realize is just how much that would be when added to the strength of the sun this close to the equator.

So I took my shirt off. And didn’t put sunscreen on my stomach or chest. You may be able to guess what happened. Despite being in the shade all day long, I had the worst sunburn I’ve had since I was 12. It was painful for 4 days, even with aloe and other lotions.

It was so bad that I developed a heat rash on my arms because my body couldn’t deal with the sunburn at the same time it maintained its temperature control.

Not a mistake I’ll repeat.

The other problem I have with beaches is the water. I’m not entirely certain when it happened, but I’ve developed a complete aversion to being underwater. Swimming, snorkeling and scuba diving are all pastimes I can no longer do. I’ve previously enjoyed all of them, but there’s nothing compelling me to dive in again.

On the other hand, kayaking and rowing around coastlines and islands are tremendous fun, because I don’t have to get immersed in the water for an extended period of time.

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Hatred of the water really kicked off when I was a child. Every time I swam in a lake or river, I’d get ear infections. Ear plugs helped, but didn’t completely solve the situation. Suddenly, years went by and I hadn’t been in open water at all. Snorkeling at Molokini was the last time I can remember enjoying being in the water and that was 18 years ago.

One failed attempt at waterskiing with a girlfriend at Lake Havasu was the next time I was in the water and it was a miserable experience, exacerbated by the embarrassment of being unable to stay up on the skis long enough to qualify if it were a rodeo.

The final dagger was my participation in the Malibu Triathlon 3 years ago. It was one of those impulsive “that might be fun” moments. What I discovered shouldn’t have been a mystery to me. I loved the cycling, suffered through the running and detested the swimming.

Since then, there has been no desire to get back into the water.

And the final aspect of the beach I don’t like: banana hammocks. In Rio, it’s understandable. That’s a place where people are in good shape. Old, fat Russian men on Patong Beach? It’s a wonder I enjoy the beach at all.

Can You Be a Good Traveler If You Don’t Enjoy Food?

August 26th, 2010
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A British meat sampler plate. Not sure if blood sausage qualifies as "meat."

“Food is a central activity of mankind and one of the single most significant trademarks of a culture.”
Mark Kurlansky

At home, I generally ate 5 things: cereal, pizza, hamburgers, tacos and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. There were other meals, of course, but in the course of a week each of those was guaranteed at least once.

Trying to turn me into a foodie is a challenge on par with getting Lindsay Lohan’s rehab to stick.

One of the common requests I’ve gotten since I started traveling is to take photos and write about the food along the way. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. The words aren’t there because I just don’t care.

“That’s why people travel,” was what one friend told me.

Is it? Not for me. I hate food. I eat as a maintenance activity like showering, brushing my teeth or watching porn.

Travel and food are inextricably linked for many people. On any given day, you could tune in to The Travel Channel and be hard pressed to tell if you were actually watching the Food Network, except the latter includes infomercials for The Tater Mitt and Onion Blossom Maker.

I love exploring other cultures – the history, the artwork, the lifestyle. But when it comes to the food, I’m just not that interested.

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Paella for a busload of Tomatina-survivors.

Its importance to travelers is understandable. Food is a cornerstone of a culture and to appreciate a destination, you should be exposing yourself to new things that are important to the people you’re around. That’s why one of the first goals I set out for myself in traveling the world was to dive in and try the local food. (Read: Confessions of a Cultural Idiot Part 1)

For two months I’ve been trying. Blood sausage in England, paella in Spain with types of fish I’d never even heard of, Roquefort cheese (aka mold) in my crepe in France. I’ve eaten a number of things that were never on my radar in the U.S. and I haven’t even gotten to the countries with food that’s really outside of my comfort zone.

For some reason, though, my food experiences are almost always “meh” inducing. It’s not that I hate the foods I’ve eaten, it just doesn’t make any kind of impact on me whatsoever.

To be honest, at times I’m ashamed of myself – so many cultures consider the meal a primary component of their lives and I feel like I’m missing out, but I’m not sure how to change it.

What do you think? Am I doing something wrong? Does anyone else travel with no regard to eating their way around the world?

Why Americans Hate Football

August 22nd, 2010

A Brain Drops special edition

Since I’ve been traveling, I’ve finally learned to appreciate soccer. Or, as the rest of the world calls it – football. Knowing a bit about the sport is critical if you want to be social in countries outside of the U.S. I’ve actually started to enjoy it, so I had to wonder “why do Americans hate it so much?”

I’m going to skip over a couple of the basics, like the fact that we’re not that good at it. And I won’t even mention the ill-fated promotional tour to Arizona that cost us half our best players.

Let’s dig a bit deeper than that:

- You can’t use your hands. Why would you deliberately disallow the use of your primary appendage? Would you pay to watch Nascar drivers who’ve removed their tires? Of course not – the crashes wouldn’t look nearly as cool and splodey.

- The games have low scores. “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” – U.S. sports fans don’t buy that line of shit. We need constant stimulation and fireworks. We thrive on the long touchdown pass in American football, the grand slam homerun of baseball or the “we score every 23 seconds” of basketball.

- The sponsor logos are right on the jerseys. Sorry, we refuse to be that blatantly open about the fact that our corporate overlords control every aspect of our lives. It makes it easier for us to cope when we want to pretend we have a “free market system.”

- There are just too many leagues. It’s impossible to keep them all straight – there needs to be a major merger of all the various leagues ASAP. The United States loves a good monopoly – whether it’s throwing hotels down on Boardwalk and Park Place or kicking down “incentives” to entice the telecom industry to have their annual “price increase festival” in your city next year.

- The yellow card penalty pretty much means there’s no immediate punishment. In a country with a history steeped in vigilante justice, we just don’t believe in delayed castigation.

- The clock doesn’t stop. This is a double whammy. No commercial time during a sporting event means no million dollar a minute ad rates. Then on top of that, you eliminate the breaks people use to grab a Coors Light and some Doritos, decimating the consumption of the sponsor’s products.

- Players have a tendency to take their shirts off. Americans may feign outrage when they see a topless woman, but it’s shirtless men that really make middle America uncomfortable.

- Many games don’t have a winner. The thought of not being able to win is anathema to most of us. There’s no adage that says “you win some, you lose some, but most of the time you’re the same” in the American vernacular. We really don’t believe in win-win, unless we win both times.

That’s my take on it. Am I missing something?

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How Parisian Supermarkets Work

August 12th, 2010
For All Your Grocery and Hardware Needs: Maiso...
Image by postaletrice via Flickr

Anyone spending a significant amount of time in Paris is going to have to brave a supermarket. You can only eat so many ham & cheese crepes in ten days. In case you’re curious, that number is 7.

Supermarkets in France, and especially Paris, are not the same as those you may be used to, so I figured I’d give you a little background.

History

Most shopping in France is done at the corner market, so large supermarkets are few and far between. That is changing as chains like Carrefour attempt the domination of France in a manner similar to Wal-Mart in the United States. Fortunately for the corner market owners, though, French people aren’t driven by price at the expense of their souls.

But large grocery stores DO exist. Mostly for use by tourists, of course, because the average French person knows better than to try to make their way through a supermarket in Paris.

The Stuff You’ll Find

Your selection will be limited to bread, cookies, fruits & vegetables, lawn chairs, chocolate, yogurt, chocolate yogurt, cheese, wine and milk. Oh yes, the milk. Let me jump right into an explanation of milk in France for you.

You can find milk in the “milk aisle” because there are 430 varieties of milk, and they’re all unrefrigerated. Oh, they’ll try to fool you by also having cold milk in the “yogurt” aisle, but don’t fall for it. You are going to get used to buying warm milk because if you buy cold milk, the clock’s a-tickin. In precisely 38 hours, it will be  pouring out of the jug like cottage cheese. Give in, suck it up and drink the warm stuff.

Operating Hours

Most Parisian grocery stores are open from 10:00 AM until 5:00 PM, so that you cannot do any shopping after work. This is ideal, as it completely eliminates any possibility of a husband being asked to “stop and pick up some bread on your way home from the office.” Yet another example of Parisian genius. Stores are also generally closed from noon to 2 so that the entire staff can go off and have a smoke break. So, grocery shopping is left to those without jobs – like housewives, students and blog writers.

If you really must find a store with longer operating hours, check out Huit a 8, which is open from about 9 to 7.

And if you’re interested in eating on a Sunday, practice your dumpster diving skills, as no stores are open on Sundays. Oh, they might have hours posted that SAY that they’re open, but what that sign doesn’t include are the disclaimers – *except during times when some of staff is sick, on vacation or on holidays, throughout summer and any days there are strikes going on.

How the Check-out Works

Once you’ve selected your food, you are ready to brave the “caisse” or cash register. This is by far the most complex aspect of shopping in a Parisian supermarket.

Regardless of the time of day, there will be a line. It will be long. Anyone who thinks that Parisians aren’t friendly has never stood in a long check-out line, because at the register, the cashier is a best friend to EVERY person in line. They talk about the weather, their cats, the test score their son got in 2006, whatever comes to mind.

Here’s what you do:

Wait.

For the love of God, don’t whisper to yourself that you wish someone would open another line. That is such a rookie mistake!

Geez, now look what you’ve done.

When people talk about France being Socialist, I think they’re actually talking about their proclivity to socialize at whatever time is most inconvenient to those around them, like when they’re standing in front of the Metro exit turnstile.

Here’s where you went wrong: Once a new cashier approaches the registers, the greetings begin. It’s nearly identical to a wedding reception line. Each cashier must greet, kiss and chat up the new cashier, welcoming and congratulating her on joining them before she takes her place at the counter.

Buying the Groceries

As the line winds down and you near the conveyor, you must wait until there is a bar separator between the groceries in front of you and your own. It does not matter if you have 4 feet of open space, Parisians take tremendous offense if you set down groceries prior to the separator being in place. This is because they can see that you’ve mysteriously purchased cold milk and they don’t want to risk taking that home with them.

One other interesting aspect of shopping in Paris is that customers bag their own groceries, traditionally in a sack that says “Property of IKEA.” This isn’t unusual, in and of itself, however the trick here is that you are not to pay or make any attempt to prepare to pay until you have completely bagged your groceries. After all, until they’re bagged, you don’t own them so making a move to give the cashier money PRIOR to that is idiocy.

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Et voila! Congratulations! You are now the proud owner of Prince Cookies, a nectarine and a 4 foot long loaf of bread.

Hmmm… I wonder if I can eat an eighth ham and cheese crepe?

With apologies to Josh Clark and Chuck Bryant at Stuff You Should Know (Twitter: @SYSKpodcast). If you don’t listen to their podcasts, I highly suggest you do. Informative AND entertaining.

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Changes: Travel Communication and Transportation

July 14th, 2010
A Eurostar.
Image via Wikipedia

A few more alterations and updates to my plan based on how things have gone so far:

Communication:

Lesson #1: AT&T Sucks
» Read more: Changes: Travel Communication and Transportation

Why the Travel Channel should be Showing the Tour de France

July 10th, 2010
Tourmalet - steep stretch east side
Image by will_cyclist via Flickr

Open letter to Laureen Ong, President of Travel Channel

Dear Laureen,

Can I call you Laureen? Perhaps that’s a bit too familiar, but I have to tell you that I’m a fan of your work. Well, I’m a fan of Samantha Brown. So, I’d like to help you out a bit. » Read more: Why the Travel Channel should be Showing the Tour de France

Smart-Ass Answers to Good Questions

June 16th, 2010

As I’ve been planning and discussing my trip, many people have had questions about the details that go into a journey like this. Since I don’t want to fool anyone into thinking I have even an inkling about what I’m doing, I am instead providing these answers, which are of no help to anyone.

  1. What made you decide to do this?
    • Eleanor Roosevelt said you should do one thing each day that scares you. I saved up to cash them all at once.
  2. Is this a mid-life crisis?
    • The mid-life crisis was when ten years ago when I bought the Mercedes convertible and had the 23 year old girlfriend with ginormous fake breasts. This is better described as a “last ditch effort.”
  3. What’s your budget? About $100,000 for a year?
    • $95,000 actually. Incredibly, there are some cities that still don’t have a Four Seasons.
  4. Are you in good enough shape?
    • Hell no. But after riding 300 miles a week through the Alps for a month, I will be.
  5. How are you getting over the ocean?
    • I wanted to use pontoons to pedal across, but I’m a shitty fisherman so food became an issue. You can only eat so many Clif Bars.
  6. How do you get to Southeast Asia?
    • Practice.
  7. What are you doing when you get back?
    • You assume I’ll survive the trip? Score one for me!
  8. Where are you storing all your stuff?
    • In a van down by the river.
  9. Are you doing it with a group?
    • Only if I’m very lucky or we get really drunk.
  10. Do you wear a backpack with all your stuff in it?
    • Yes, and I packed a chiropractor in there to work out the kinks at the end of the day.
  11. Do you have the route all planned out?
    • I did, but unfortunately I was holding the map upside down, so now I have to make it up as I go along.
  12. Aren’t you afraid of being impotent from the bike riding? Or sterile?
    • If I believed impotence was a real risk of cycling, I’d have smashed my bike with a ball-peen hammer years ago. But sterility is A-OK in my book – more people should try it.
  13. Are you only taking the one bike? Don’t you need a lighter bike to go up mountains?
    • The SAG vehicle will have my back-up ride in it. Unfortunately, towing a Saab wagon behind me will mean a shitload of pedaling.
  14. What are you doing about medical insurance?
    • Isn’t universal health care available in the rest of the civilized world? And uncivilized? And pretty much everywhere?

My apologies to anyone who actually wanted to know answers to any of those questions, but I’m too excited to be serious right now!

12 days and counting!!

What the Hell IS All This Stuff??

May 30th, 2010
Hoarders: small business edition
Image by RobertFrancis via Flickr

Why don’t I miss more stuff?

I was trying to write a post about “all the things I’ll miss while I’m traveling around the world” and I ran into a problem. The list just wasn’t that damned long.

Sure, there are the basic necessities like friends, a regular paycheck and “In N Out,” but when I looked around my place today I realized that there were only a handful of things that I owned that actually brought me happiness. » Read more: What the Hell IS All This Stuff??

Travel Is Not My New Job

May 16th, 2010

Since I started telling more people about my trip this week, I’ve been getting quite a bit of advice about how to make money on the road.

What are you going to do while you travel?”

Is there something wrong with being lazy? Most of us never truly get the opportunity to do absolutely nothing. Sure, we may take a day off to eat chimichangas and watch football, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

Image credit: The Wandering Angel via Flickr under Creative Commons

The concept of a career break is foreign to most people in the corporate world, so in an effort to process what I’m doing, many well-meaning friends are trying to turn the trip into a job for me. » Read more: Travel Is Not My New Job