I am not a gardener, and not since a young lad have I even spent much time working my hands into the soil. My observations on the parallels of gardening and travel are courtesy of a recommend read, by author Margaret Roach.

I first heard of Margaret’s story from fellow online personality Pam Slim. Pam had mentioned how Margaret (whom I suspect doesn’t mind that we are now on a first name basis) was once a high-ranking executive working directly under Martha Stewart and left that job to tend to herself on a farm in upstate New York. The story is not unlike my own – minus the farm part, of course – so I was curious to learn more. Margaret recently published a book about her travails, And I Shall Have Some Peace There, and the trailer hooked me instantly:

Getting some White Space

I think we all can appreciate the need for a bit of white space, and it was interesting to learn how our protagonist worked like hell in New York City, and then fled to her upstate getaway like a war-torn refugee. (This fact alone makes the book the perfect long-flight-companion, but keep reading – there’s more.)

Once free from the corporate shackles, Margaret finds that her neighbours and rural creatures are now her new mentors – less like teachers, more like walls of reflection. I love the reference to one of her neighbours, Herb, who I believe, in a way, probably kept more of an eye on her than she suspects. She mentions the way he moves – the way many travellers (should) move:

He walked in the manner I have come to know as distinctively his: purposeful but never rushed, a man going somewhere but content on taking his time getting there.

As the pages turn, I was surprised to see how deep this story goes. Not deep as in the sense of a complex story line, or a raucous plot of characters – though the ups and downs of country life does introduce one to a miscellany of insects and animals. No, the depth here is watching Margaret’s thoughts and feelings untangle, as she begins to ditch Margaret-Roach-Executive-For-Martha-Stewart and learned who the heck just Margaret is.

The Passing of Seasons

One other thing that I appreciated in this book is the turning of the seasons. Without boring one with the details of maintaining a rural property, Margaret walks us through the variations of things to do while Mother Nature conducts her busywork. Winter brings snowfall and indoor work; spring brings planting and preparations; summer, the enjoyment of one’s labours fresh from the garden; and the fall, a hectic pace to can and jar and prepare for winter again.

I couldn’t help but reflect on certain points in each year that Margaret brings up; for example, she always mentions her little frozen cubes of pesto, packed away, waiting for the perfect moment of enjoyment. It reminds me of travel rituals and how the travel process is almost full circle: the first elation and pondering of a trip (winter), making the bookings and getting all of the preparations in place (spring), the enjoyment of it all (summer), and coming home to share those stories and reflect on poignant souvenirs of the (fall).

Not every trip perhaps flows so nicely through four stages, just as each year the seasons can have a mind of their own. But both are cyclical, and everyone has a favourite season or two.

In Closing

Margaret blew me away with her headline story and book trailer. And when I emailed her how I empathised with her tale and was looking forward to finding a copy of the book for myself – she dropped one in the mail for me, with a simple note attached – Waste Not, Want Not. (Thank you.)

For someone who lost her way and struggled to find it again, I’d say that Margaret is the one now giving the wise words of advice. With one last temptation to encourage you to add this to your airplane reading, I’d like to close with a short passage I found quite interesting.

As I write this, I hear Meryl Streep invoke Karen Blixen: “I have been a mental traveler.” … I want people to look and learn, Peter the Great said around 1717, referring to the Kunstkammer, as he knew this cabinet-as-organizing principle. Sounds good to me, Peter; sounds like a plan: Look and Learn.

If you want to look read and learn, click here to get your copy from Amazon.

As you may know, I am a huge train buff – it is my number one preferred mode of transportation (after my own two feet, I suppose). So I was excited to receive a copy of Tom Chesshyre’s Tales from the Fast Trains – with such a fun cover, I expected to lap up stories some good stories about traveling Europe on rails.

The storyline is a couple who live in London and use the city’s St. Pancras station as their base for a number of regular weekend breaks into Europe. Some of their destinations are very quick – Lille, for example, is faster to get to than many other cities in England. Others are further afield, such as the multiple transfers required to reach Spain or Switzerland.

It was an interesting read for me, having been to many – actually, all – of the destinations he visits, sometimes on rails and other times not. What’s most interesting is the stark contrasts in travel times – I remember when it took 4.5 hours to get from Amsterdam to Paris. Now the high speed line runs the full distance and the travel time is nearly halved.

Europe’s Joie de Vivre on Rails

One interesting thing to note in this book is how the author explores the development of rail in Europe in relation to several political and social moments in history. For example, because Germany is such a large country, the railway was critical in connecting the several cities – Germany, both then and now, does not have one focus “capital” city so the need for connections was urgent.

There’s also an interesting story about a single tunnel, bored through the swiss alps to connect the German’s industrial need for coal with Italy’s reserves. The three countries split the cost, and that one tunnel led to an explosion of Switzerland’s railway network.

Isn’t the feeling of jumping on a train and heading for distant places what it’s all about… and taking in what you can along the way? Isn’t it the chance to see the Continent in a different, but still very fast, way? Isn’t that what fast trains offer? isn’t that how they are changing things? It’s the sensation, not just the statistics. It’s all about the experience.

Where to Go on the Train?

The places highlighted in the book are all places I would recommend. What I like is that the author wasn’t afraid to portay an honest appraisal of all their trips, including some places that many would skip – such as Frankfurt, or Rotterdam, both considered a bit too “gritty.’ (And you would be right for saying so – but then you’re missing the point.)

A few personal faves:

• Lille, France: This has to be my favourite city in France, above Paris even. I love the old town, the wonderful walks, the world-class museums. Oh, and the food. And the wine. And the shops.
• Lausanne and Montraux, Switzerland: This destination is so wonderful and famous, it was part of the original grand tour of Europe. Perhaps one of the most expensive strips of rail in Europe, it is also the most scenic. Lausanne slopes steeply down into Lac Leman, and from there the train crawls through UNESCO World Heritage territory until it reaches Montraux, where you can visit Chateau De Chillon, one of the most famous castles in Switzerland.
• Bruges, Belgium: Along with Ghent, these are the most popular stops in Belgium for a reason. Architecture, beer, food, romance. What’s not to like?
• Cologne, Germany: The city of Cologne is a personal fave – museums, shops, architecture, hospitality. A great place to come for Christmas too.
• Luxembourg City, Luxembourg: A quiet and relaxed break; not many tourists make it to Luxembourg, assuming it’s just filled with bankers and tax evaders. (While the latter may be true, there’s still plenty else to see!)

Who Should read this Book

Although sometimes I don’t understand the couples travel style – they often take taxis in towns where you could walk probably a bit more quickly – and I laugh at their sometimes ill-prepared plans (but who hasn’t made a bad hotel choice now and then), I found Tales of the Fast Trains to be a great read.

I’d recommend this book for a wanderluster hoping for some inspiration on choosing a European rail itinerary – these destinations can be visited from anywhere in Europe, not just London. Just to be clear, this isn’t a travel guide – it simply lists some personal experiences and offers a handful of recommendations on the good and bad in each place. For the most part, the highlights are covered, but I would use this as your starting point, not the finishing line.

If that sounds right up your alley, then grab a copy on Amazon:

Photo Credits: gadgetdude, adam sporka, poom

Special thanks to the publisher for providing us with a copy of this book. Learn more about our editorial policy on reviews here.

There is perhaps a slight irony in an article with the words “transformative journey” in the title reviewing a book called “The Queen of the Road.”  The book, written by the cheeky and tickle-the-funny-bone hilarious Doreen Orion, came into my presence per her own recommendation during my search for great reads while on the road.  The cover sums up the trip pretty succinctly: the true tale of 47 states, 22,000 miles, 200 shoes, 2 cats, 1 poodle, a husband, and a bus with a will of its own.

Despite the simplistic cover story, Queen of the Road has a lot more lurking under the surface than a bus with a death wish and a closet full of shoes.  Inside this funny and interesting page-turner, a couple transforms themselves from meek, timid travelers into brazen road warriors bent on tackling the next travel obstacle. It’s a travel transformation I have seen in others many times as a travel writer, magazine owner, and regular road warrior, but it is a topic not often discussed.

Wait, What was that — a Bus with a Death Wish?

Ok, so here’s the gist.  Doreen and her husband Tim decide that they’d like to go on a bit of a road trip.  Thing is, that turned into the understatement of their lives, as they outfit a reconverted bus into a roving mobile home.  The catch? The bus had a few bugs to work out – such as the door flying open at 60MPH on the highway, or the electrics nearly burning the thing down with all their pets inside.

The trials and tribulations of the couple’s “test run” on the bus take up much of the focus of the early chapters.  Subtly, while you’re busy finding out the ins and outs of how it might be possible to die on a bus (and a whole heck of a lot about bus/RV culture), you’re also learning lots about the main characters.  Well played, Doreen, well played.

But why go on a trip…in a bus?  I’ll let Doreen and Tim explain that one:

[Tim] It’s just something I really want to do – while we’re young and can still enjoy it.  I’ve done everything right all my life, the way I was supposed to do it.  Now I want something for me.…

[Doreen] Like many people, until we reached our late thirties, Tim & I went through life feeling rather invincible.  Not only was it inconceivable that something bad could ever happen to us, even our very mortality seemed suspect.  When we hit our fourties, this changed, as our contemporaries experienced sudden, unexpected tragedies.  A friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.  A colleague died of a heart attack in his sleep…. Those lessons started hitting home.

Can you identify with Tim and Doreen’s story? (No need to report.)

The Trip Itself

As I mentioned, Doreen and Tim do a brief 3-week run to work out the kinks in the system.  Unfortunately, there were a lot of kinks to be worked out!  After that, though, the road (and the stories) tend to smooth out quite a bit, at least in the non-metaphorical sense.  Similar to our last recommended read, Hiking X the Alps, getting there seems to be more of a focus than the destinations, though you do hear about some interesting spots like Mount Rushmore, a nude resort (and the difference between nude and “clothing optional – a slight difference but important!), Alaska roadtripping, and some very interesting museums throughout America.

In fact, looking back, it seems like once that trial run was finished, the rest of the trip breezed by. Funny as that’s kind of how many vacations go, right? You start off a little out of sync – jetlagged, confused, a bit bewildered.  And then you hit a stride and all of a sudden, you’re a little sad that you’re back in the airport for the ride home.

And About that Transformation

The transformation started from the beginning of the trip, when things seemed the worst – not only did they have to fend off attempts at the bus trying to kill them, but also they had no entertainment apart from the freshly shaken martinis that Doreen seemed to whip up every minute the bus was put into park.  Here’s the first glimpse into that story:

“…It was a throwback to a simpler time, when people depended on each other for entertainment, rather than technology.  I wondered which is simpler, really: relying on radio, Internet, and TV for social glue or on ourselves and each other, on our own imagination as and talents to delight and ultimately bind us together.  I had been so focused on the change in lifestyle thrust on my by this trip that I didn’t even consider it might actually be causing changes in me. We hadn’t even started the official journey yet, and already I was encountering ideas and experiences that were putting a chink my designer armor of dearly held beliefs.”

I’ve found myself many times on a trip thinking “this is wonderful.  Why is my home lifestyle not more like this?”  Many of these travel-inspired changes did indeed set on Doreen & Tim – for example, the practice of not watching TV at dinnertime.  First, it was because they didn’t have one, but then they realised they didn’t need it.  This was a common theme, as Doreen says: “we were doing things differently than we had in the past, giving us hope that the lessons learned on the road about what was truly valuable might just stick.”

Another poignant lesson on the road with Doreen and her husband is the importance of connection: at many points, over random meals and drinks in foreign ports, the couple remark on the importance of meeting and seeing old friends and making new acquaintances while on their trips.

Pick Up your Copy before your Next Flight

Don’t let the whimsical cover fool you, nor my more serious take on the metaphorical journey inside – Queen of the Road is a fantastic balance between a humorous/comedic road trip and a new perspective on the affects of life on the road. I leave you with Doreen’s book dedication:

To anyone longing to pursue his or her inner bus.  (It’s not necessary to have your own driver, but it doesn’t’ hurt.)

To purchase a copy from Amazon, click on the link below.

Photos courtesy of book author Doreen Orion.

As I sit on the plane at the start on a new journey, I have just finished reading about the end of another. The story was in Over the Top and Back Again: Hiking X The Alps, and the journey itself was both long and extraordinary (not always in a good way); the book is an account of Brandon Wilson and his wife Cheryl hiking along Europe’s famed Via Alpina, a multiple national hiking route taking travellers across peaks high and low in Italy, France, Switzerland, amongst other stops.

Trekking is Hard. Whew.

An ongoing theme in this book are the hardships and hassles of our couple as they attempt their journey. It seems the universe has conspired to stop them. At first the daily thundershowers and personal injuries, miss planning issues, and a lack of clear route markers seems comical, but at 100 pages it starts to wear on you. Perhaps that was the intention – to illustrate the story – and it left me wandering if I would be able to make the trek myself. At times I found myself cursing them for making stupid decisions and almost irrational acts, but then again how many of us haven’t done something stupid while mesmerised in a foreign land under the duress of hunger and thirst?

Throughout the destinations, Brandon provides a bit of cultural and historic background – brief but interesting, particularly if you take note of how the villages shift and change when borders are crossed, or even just the next valley over. Along the way it seems experiences arrive across every hill; you really don’t know what to expect. I suggest checking in the map now and then for reference to follow along.

One funny anecdote that I actually have personal experience with is the mountain snow. You see, I actually have trekked through a tiny portion of the via alpina that slides around the towns and villages above Interlaken. And I, like our travellers, hiked in the dead of summer – think cold beers and hot fondue on terraces in the warm summer nights, hot sunshine and wearing shorts.

I woke up early from my pensione, scarfed breakfast, and then after a long gondola ride, headed out on foot. The day was long, the road was good. And then, probably 90 minutes en route, the trail narrows. Not a gorge or hills, but now. Yes, there I was, wearing shorts and sunglasses and a tshirt, with snow up to my neck on either side. (I have no idea how the trail path was carved out).

I pressed on, thinking how bad could it be (a phrase that rings true often in name of book). Alas, after the trail turned to ice, and the road narrowed, I realised that I was not on the trail but on a glacier.

In the book, they press on. Me? I went back to my pension and had a beer.

The Jazz of Travel

One concept that is brilliant woven throughout the book is the metaphor that travel – more specifically travel planning – is like jazz. It’s true. Jazz is a mixture of planned riffs and notes that rides on a wave of serendipity, shifting and adjusting in the heat of the moment.

Travel is like that too. I personally like to have a plan and structure, with lots of room to explore whatever catches my fancy and while not worrying about where I will sleep that night. I know other people who like to have every little thing planned out including all meals of the day (this would be my mother who would doubtedly disagree), and then there are people like Brandon and Cheryl whose travel style would, at times, freak people out. (To their credit, they learned some lessons along the way – you can’t improvise everything, and sometimes you just take the cards you’re dealt.)

The lesson here is, to continue the metaphor, all of us have our own musical pretences. Know what yours is, and be mindful of it.

Buy the Book. Don’t Hike the Via Alpina.

This book is a great read for those who are desperate for some adventure but for whatever reason can’t get themselves over to the nearest Swiss alp. I think the book is a bit long and could be tightened in places, but perhaps the intent is to mirror the journey of the travellers themselves, and their trip covered so many places and experiences it would be hard to pick what to leave out.

As for the Via Alpina? Well, that I wouldn’t recommend except for the most intrepid. You see, near the end of their journey, our friends found out that the Via Alpina was meant to be a series of threads, a way to interconnect communities and provide visitors with a sampling of the terrain. It wasn’t meant to be hiked end to end. The author does mention work has taken place since their adventure to improve the maps and markers of the route.

That’s not to say their journey was for nought. They learned a lot about themselves and a lot about European alpine life in the process. And who knows what you’ll learn – you will just have to read it and see. I leave you with this parting thought from Brandon about life on the trails, including a quote from one of my favourite authors.

The pure joy in his eyes reminded me why I take to the trail. It’s the fresh air, the heart pounding, air-gasping pace; it’s the lure of something new around each bend and the freedom to explore. It’s the sweat and starain to accomplish something measurable each day. It’s the memorable views from a mountaintop. It’s reducing life to its primal essentials and finding satisfaction in the smallest things: a hot shower, a warm meal, a soft pillow, or a word of encouragement. It’s the new people you meet every day and experiences shared. It’s the personal peace you find when you reconnect with nature and the Universe. Could life get any better?

I’ve always thought Henry David Thoreau described it best when he said:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if i could not learn what it had to each, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

Want to Know More?

You can pick up a copy of Brandon’s great book at Amazon:

Special thanks to Brandon Wilson for providing us with a copy of his book. Learn more about our editorial policy on reviews here.

Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and if you’re thinking about a special gift to give someone (including treating yourself), how about a copy of the book Letters to Zerky?

Letters to Zerky is part lost love letter and part  travel tale, but the book itself is a story of its own.  The story is about a couple with a small child, Zerky, and their perky (but tiny) dog, Tarzan.  They set out on a roadtrip and end up driving from Munich to Kolkata via a number of places in Europe and the Middle East, and then left their van/home to travel via boats and planes making their way back to San Francisco.

This all happened in the 1960s when epic roadtripping wasn’t so popular, and Bill and wife JoAnne had the good sense to make a journal.  They did so by writing letters to their son Zerky so when he grew up he’d know about his epic adventures.

Here’s the rub, though – both JoAnne and Zerky passed away later on after the family returned home.  Years later Bill happened upon these wonderful letters he wrote his son.  So he decided to have them printed – and I’m so glad he did.  I couldn’t put the book down, and felt emotionally wrecked at the end of it (in a good way).

Storytelling at Its Best

What really strikes me about Letters to Zerky are a few things.  Firstly are the characters – Bill and JoAnne tends to take a back seat to the sights and sounds of their location, as well as events of both Zerky and Tarzan.  Tarzan was definitely my favourite character – he was learning and exploring just as much as Zerky, and he’s very much a part of the drama, from their initial scrape with German immigration at the start of their journey, as well as a particularly nasty bout with another dog that bit poor wee Tarzan.

But also, the family was travelling at a time when borders were not porous like they are today, as well as a time when the world was in much strife, so there are some wonderful cultural experiences of the “flower power” era.  Bill describes the amazing colours of India, the sheer cliffs of Nepal, and the lost treasures of Iran as if little Zerky could talk and say what he was seeing.  There’s also plenty of realistic talk about the hassles of governments permits, illness and the like – there’s no sugar coating here, which makes for a very well rounded read.

Love from Sarajevo

Bill actually suggested, and kindly allowed me, to print one of the letters here in its entirety.  While reading the book, this suggestion was in the back of my mind, but when I started reading the letter from Sarajevo, I know this would be the one.  Stephanie recently told us her story about the heart-shaped country of Bosnia-Herzegovina and how it still has a special place in her own heart just for her, and I think this letter shows off some of the touching poignant moments that happen regularly on the family trips.  Slightly edited for brevity:

Sepetember 10, 1967

Bosnia-Herzegovina, Yugoslavia

Dear Zerky,

I hope you have figured out by now that you did not perish in that snowstorm beneath the Matterhorn.  You went south like the bird.  The day we left Switzerland, we drove over San Gotthard pass in a blizzard and then, an hour later, and several thousand feet lower, we zipped eastward across northern Italy in near-summer weather. We spent two nights camped on Lido Island, just outside of Venice, from where we took the boat into the city.  You had a good time chasing pigeons in San Marco Square, and you liked your gondola ride too.  But we didn’t stay very long – your mother had been there before and I found Venice too much of a tourist trap.

After three nights on Lido Island, we crossed into Yugoslavia, near Trieste, and followed the Adriatic Coast southward through the rocky hills that plunge into the sea all along that coast.  We were then on the scenic Dalmatian Coast, which is Yugoslavia’s biggest tourist attraction.  It is very popular with East European vacationers, who love warm beaches.  Halfway down the coast, at the town of Split, your mother became impatient with “this Yugoslavian Riviera,” as she called it.  She suggested we “split from Split.”  So we left the coast and cut inland.  Eleven years ago, she had hitchhiked through this part of Yugoslavia and she remembered the Yugoslavian interior to be very different from the Dalmatian Coast.

Climbing into the mountains known as the Dinaric Alps, we followed an asphalt road northeast for about ten miles.  We expected no difficulty, as our map shows the road to be a major thoroughfare to Belgrade, the capital.  At the first village, the road virtually disappeared.  Bewildered, we got out our Serbo-Croatian phrase book and tried asking some nearby villages about the road to Livno, which, according to the map, was the next town along our route.  Always with a laugh, the villages would wave us on.  What’s so funny about a road to Livno, we wondered?  All we could find was a dry streambed.

Very slowly and carefully, we inched ahead, creping ever so slowly over so many stones and boulders that I had to stop and let the clutch cool down three times.  What happened to our highway, we wondered?  A flood must have washed it away.  But surely it would not have disappeared all the way to Livno, about thirty miles away?  An hour later our road had not yet improved.  We stopped for a conference – we were making no more progress than we could have on foot.  VW buses have high clearances, fortunately, but the rate we were going ti would have taken us days, or weeks, to reach Sarajevo.  Assume we didn’t break an axle.  Or burn up the clutch.

The sensible thing to do, we finally decided, was to turn back.  But we were having too much fun.  So we continued on, yard by yard, picking our way up and over and in between the rocks, even higher into the mountains.  Ta dah, ted ah! “These damp barren hills strewn with gray boulders and patches of brush,” JoAnne writes, “are among the most desolate I have ever seen.”  Pregnant with meaning, such boulders are the metaphorical building blocks of modern Yugoslavia….

Still climbing upward, the road began to improve.  A wind came up and it turned cold.  We crawled along in low gear for two more hours.  At the top of the pass, a weather-beaten sign announced that we were leaving Croatia and entering Bosnia-Herzegovina.  The sign denoted only a change of province.  Little did we know we were entering a whole new world. Asia may begin at the Bosporus, geographically.  Culturally it begins at Bosnia-Herzegovina.

The most stunning change was in people’s dress:  women’s skirts became billowing pantaloons turned under at the bottoms and drawn up tightly around their caves, as in pictures from the Arabian Nights.  These garments seem to us to be the ultimate in Puritanism; by closing off the bottoms of the skirts, any chance of catching a glimpse of a woman’s legs is automatically forestalled.  The women we passed along the road drew shawls up over their faces, in the manner of a veil.  Any doubts as to which culture we were in were soon dispelled when we began seeing men wearing the fez.

Passing through our first Bosnian village, we found a central square commanded by a tall minaret.  Soon minarets began popping up all over the place.  Towns of any size have several of them, and often a mosque.  We had read that Bosnia was once under the hell of the Turks, we had never expected to see so much Turkish influence surviving on down to this day….

Our biggest surprise upon entering Bosnia-Herzegovina was the road.  We soon found ourselves zipping along at thirty miles an hour and we reached Sarajevo by nightfall….You found Tito in that supermarket, Zerky.  Your mother quickly named him after her favorite bear in the zoo at Bern… It was love at first sight.  Unfortunately Tarzan doesn’t’ love Tito at all.  When you showed him your new teddy bear, Tarzan grabbed him away from you and tried to shake all his stuffing out!  Your mother charged to the rescue.  But now you need to be careful to keep Tito away from Tarzan.  I think Tarzan is jealous.

It is raining heavily now.  Tomorrow we plan to head into Montenegro and take back roads southward toward the coast.  It should be sunny there, which will be a relief – most of the time its been raining ever since we left the Adriatic Coast.  Let’s hope we don’t get stuck!

Love,

Dad

Why I Love This Book

Letter’s to Zerky makes for an engaging read, in flight, on the beach, or in bed under the covers.  It comes with my highest recommendation, but I think the author Bill summarises it best with this quote of his from the flap of the book jacket.

Letters to Zerky is an adventure book, a tale told by people who loved what they were doing.  It was never meant to be a message book, but should there be one, it is probably this:

JUST GO.

I couldn’t agree more.   Travel More, my dear reader.  And if you want more of that Just Go magic, you can purchase a copy of Letters to Zerky via the Amazon link below.

Editorial Disclosure: The author was given a review copy of this guide, which did not influence the contents  of this article. Also note that many countries and political boundaries have changed significantly since the family’s trip.  The place names at the time of the trip are used here as a reference.

I have always called myself a spiritual person, but not religious. I do believe something big and magical must be going on out there, but I’m not so sure modern society has it pegged.

Nonetheless, questions of this sort were swirling around my mind as a beautiful copy of Whereabouts Press’ book, Traveling Souls – Contemporary Pilgrim Stories, appeared in my mailbox. What is a pilgrimage, I asked myself. Would I ever want to go on a pilgrimage? Or better question: I have already been on one, but didn’t know it?

But what IS a pilgrimage, anyway?

This was one of my first questions – one that I pondered after first hearing about the book. Thankfully the issue was tackled right off the bat, sort of, in the Foreword by Pico Iyer. He says:

Reading the wonderfully varied and unexpected stories assembled here, I was struck by how much the notion of a pilgrimage today has to do with retrieving a sense of purpose (and simplicity and constancy); with putting oneself, quite literally, in the footsteps of the past.

Once upon a less secular time, almost everyone made pilgrimages, and most of the great works of our early literature – Dante’s ascent into the stars, Chaucer’s wanders to Canterbury, the tales of Orpheus and Odysseus and Hercules – commemorate both inward and outward journeys; these days, I suspect, many of us travel in part to experience pilgrimage by proxy.

Most of the travelers in this volume leave home, as I have done, to partake of someone else’s pilgrimage….At the end of every pilgrimage, of course, you learn that ends are new beginnings….

Barbara Wilson, in her chapter entitled Joshua Tree, minces no words – the answer to “what is a pilgrimage” is probably itself a question:

We sometimes do a hard thing. Who knows why? To understand ourselves. To surprise ourselves. To redeem the past. To create the future.

The Stories Within

As with any book that’s a collection of authors and voices, you’ll resonate with some stories moreso than others, particularly with such a personal topic as this. Strangely, I found this book flowed with me almost like a pilgrimage itself – a strong start, followed by a wavering dip, some floundering this way and that, and a bit of a hurrah to the finish. Perhaps it was all in my head, but that’s how it went.

The stories, as the title suggests, are about contemporary pilgrims. Yes, there are people trekking to Santiago in Spain and the Ganges in India. But there are also some wonderfully poignant stories that have nothing to do with historic times and all to do with a single person’s journey. I loved the ground-level perspective on such famous, historic places but I also enjoyed seeing places I could relate to a bit more – for example, one man was making his way across the British Isles. Nothing all that exotic there, but the tales of back roads and being chased by dogs was very interested, in the most positive sense of the word.

Is All Travel a Pilgrimage in a Way?

One of the conclusions, or thoughts, that I was left with after reading this interesting book was a slightly different look at “what is a pilgrimage” question – the concept that every trip is a pilgrimage in one way or another. Question mark – I’m not sure.

I certainly have often felt the same way at the end of a short trip (even to somewhere un-exotic or not that far from home), pining for the trip to never end, as Anne Cushman did in her story, called Spiritual Discomfort:

Late last March, I sat on the banks of the Ganges in Rishikesh, India wondering if I should be in Kathmandu instead.

It’s a delusion that occasionally seizes me on the road – the nagging anxiety that I’ve made a wrong turn, that I’m not where I should be, that the life I’m supposed to be living is waiting for me somewhere else, pacakged and ready to go, like a take-out dinner I’ve ordered from a restaurant whose address I now can’t remember….

The most exotic experience, I reflected, is made up of the most mundane details. I was in a Himalayan cave with a holy man; back in California, I could tell that to my yogi friends and they’d moan with envy. Yet the actual experience mainly consisted of damp socks, numb fingers, sore throat and shivering jaw. Maybe my spiritual teachers were right when they told me, over and over, that all moments are equally magical, if we give them our full attention. Maybe my mystical adventure had been happening all along.

Perhaps next time you travel, you’ll think about Anna’s story – and about all these other stories. Maybe you’ve already been a pilgrim, and you just didn’t notice.

Read the book

I’d highly recommend this book. You can pick a copy up today at Amazon – it’s perfect for in flight, r a long road trip or just to relax in bed with back at home.

Photo Credit: Whereabouts Press, mckaysavage

Editorial Disclosure: The author was given a review copy of this guide, which did not influence the contents  of this article.

We’ve talked at times around here about experiential travel. But what exactly IS this wordy concept anyway? It’s one of those things that’s hard to put your hands on and touch it, feel it. That’s why my ears perked when I saw the preview notes for Lyn Fuch’s new book, Sacred Ground and Holy Water:

I have survived enraged grizzlies, erupting volcanoes, Japanese swordfights, and giant squid tentacles. I have been entrapped by FBI agents and held at gunpoint by renegade soldiers. I have sung with Bulgaria’s bluesmaster Vasko the Patch and met with Mexico’s Zapatista Army commander Marcos. I have been thrown out of forbidden temples in southern India and passed out in sweat lodges off the Alaskan coast. My navel has been inhabited by beetles and my genitals have been cursed by eunuchs. I have shared coffee with presidents, beer with pirates, and goat guts with polygamists. I have contracted malaria, typhoid, salmonella, and lovesickness around the world.

That’s a mouth full. And kind of ballsy. But I was lucky enough to get an advance copy of Lyn’s book, which just launched last week. What did I think?

Wanderlust Alert

One thing that really struck a chord with me in this book is Lyn’s extensive amount of weird, odd, and downright unusual travel experiences. An example is his ‘beach vacation’ in the middle of the pirates’ home base in Belize. We all know that there is that area where pirates hang out. But who knew you could even go there, or why you would want to? Lyn includes some fascinating details in his trip reports, such as pointing out that pirates have made this part of the world their home since the 1700s.

A clue, perhaps, to Lyn’s doggedness to this so brilliantly worded summary of the state of society’s fears and wants:

Bravado comes easy for kids. Not understanding life’s value, they wager the commoidty freely. Inhibition comes easy for adults. Not appreciating life’s brevity, they let caution steal their dreams. A little fear is good, but it must be mastered….Fear, in a sense, becomes the birthplace of courage.

Couldn’t agree more.

In another chapter, Lyn also took a trip back to the Netherlands, my former home. I was instantly transported back to places and settings I wish I were closer to. Instead of your typical guidebook tour, he looks up (that’s always the best view). He says what he’s thinking in his mind, and reflects not just on what he’s seeing but the big picture: how religion is presented, how people act/react, what people are wearing. It’s fascinating – sort of a social anthropologist, but only the interesting stuff

Other stories include visiting church services in the southern US, an unusual experience in Bulgaria’s capital of Sofia, climbing jungle temples in Mexico, and India’s answer to the Great Wall of China.

Completing the Picture

As much as I loved flipping through these anecdotes and stories, I did find a couple of areas lacking. One is the location context. Many people’s sense of geography is poor at best, and often where Lyn was actually at wasn’t clear, and that could have been more clear. (For example, the Dutch chapter includes “Rembrandtsville” in the title. It’s clever, but if you have never been, you might assume that he was actually in a town called that, and cursing your Google map for not knowing where this is.)

I also felt Sacred Ground and Holy Water falls trap to the same fate as many brochures and travel websites: obtuse language. The litmus test is easy – read a page out loud on a busy street. Would anybody look at you funny for the words you use? The English language has a very in depth vocabulary, that doesn’t mean every word needs flowery description. Some of these incredible locations can speak for themselves.

Get Your Copy

I’ll leave you with this simple quote from the book, which I think sums up why the author wrote it in the first place (and strangely ties in almost word for word with last week’s lifestyle feature, Why are we Afraid to Strike Out on Our Own):

Much of my life is a quest to answer a question.

Indeed. I loved this book, and if Sacred Ground and Holy Water sounds like your cup of tea – it certainly will inspire you to see more of the world – you can pick it up today from Amazon.

Editorial Disclosure: Sharing Travel Experiences was given a promotional copy of this guide, but the opinions expressed here are ours.

I had heard of the Chicken Soup series of books before, but I didn’t realize until having a further look at this book that quite so many editions of the series had been in print.  Then I saw Chicken Soup for the Traveler’s Soul and had to know more.

The book jacket states that this book contains “stories of adventure, inspiration and insight to celebrate the spirit of travel.”  That’s a pretty big promise to deliver on, and overall I think this book manages to achieve its goal.  It’s a compilation of stories from various writers, so as I imagined, some portions of text are a little more exciting than others.

This isn’t a Book to Travel With

Ali Hale gave us some great tips on how to choose what book to travel with.  This book isn’t one of them.  Many of the stories are quite poignant and pull on the heartstrings, so unless you like crying on public transportation perhaps this belongs on your coffee table at home.  Instead of a tool to pass the time on the road, I think of this as more of the perfect book to pick up and read when you’re feeling the need to be inspired by other travelers.  Here at Sharing Travel Experiences, specific backdrops are often our source of inspiration to you, but in Chicken Soup for the Traveler’s Soul, it is the individual events and the story behind them, and in this microscope the destination always plays a role but isn’t necessarily relevant.

Themes

What I love about this book are the themes in which the stories are gathered.  These make it perfect for you to sit down on the sofa and flip open to whatever theme you’re feeling at the moment.  Some of the themes and personal favourites from each:

Living Your Dream

We all want to travel more, and in these stories, you’ll hear the tales of others who feel the same way.  Like Nancy, a real estate agent who was visiting one of her clients, a chicken egg farm, and said:

It struck me how similar [my] lifestyle was to these caged birds.  How many of us live our lives in cages, looking out and see others having the adventures, living their dreams, being free?

Nancy is now in her ninth year of full-time RV travel!

Getting There

They say that getting there is part of the journey, and they’re right.  These tales range from the outrageous to the nearly miraculous of things that happen while on the road, quite literally.  Matthew Miller shared his story about a chance meeting of three men while on an airport layover.  He says:

These three men, friends who I will probably never see again but who will remain a part of me always, taught me the real way to travel – mindfully.  For when you travel mindfully, you never know what jewels you may discover along the way.  A warm meal.  A trusted friend.  A new-found brother.

Our Common Bond

Ever had that feeling while travelling that some things are kind of just like home?  Or maybe you’ve met a person that reminded you of someone you know.  You’re not the only one.  Marybeth Bond writes about her ‘guilt trip’ – having to take a business travel trip while leaving her children behind.  By chance, the maid of her hotel room is in a similar situation – working many miles away from her children.  They spoke different languages, but needed no words to express their feelings!

Making a Difference

Perhaps the most emotional of all the stories in the book, these tales talk of tasks both big and small that help make the world a better place.   Sometimes just the gesture can make a big difference in someone’s life.  I couldn’t help tear at Terry Paulson’s story about giving a worried solider who had no money $20 at an airport to get the rest of his way home.  A simple story that could have happened anywhere, but a thankful reminder that the world is still a friendly place.  On helping that stranger get to his final destination, Terry says:

You can’t get much more than that for any amount of money.

The Healing Path

Intense like the previous chapter, the stories along the healing path don’t always have a happy ending, but there’s no reason to be sad, as these travellers most certainly found what they were looking for.  I’m not sure what to feel to know that so many people’s dying wish is to travel more.  Consider a blind man, who wants to see the ocean while he still can.  How often do we fail to appreciate the things we have? Probably too often.

On Love

Travel and romance go together hand-in-hand, from those love at first sight moments on the road to solidifying a bond with a travel experience.  Love can be people, but it can also be the places too.  One story is told by a young girl who joins her mother in a return visit to her home country, Italy.  She expects to see her mother sad and tearful at the prospect of returning to a place she never loved, yet she finds that her mother has never been happier.   The mother says:

It’s fine to return to the past, but I live for today.

Couldn’t agree more.

A Matter of Perspective

This is such a great chapter because this is one of the powerful gifts that travel gives us: perspective.  Sometimes things are a little too close to home, and other times they’re so far remote you can’t believe it.  But my favourite tale from this section is one by Mike Bird and his attempt to be the first person to row around the world.  Admirable goal but as you can imagine, he got pretty bogged down midway through his journey and was struggling.  It was then that he received an email from his wife, a forwarded note from someone following his journey.  A husband whose wife was in hospital.  They took solace and strength from his journey – just when Mike thought his efforts weren’t worthwhile.  Such a touching story.

The Kindness of Strangers

We’ve all witnessed the extreme kindness a total stranger can bestow upon a lost or wayward traveller.  These stories felt so warm and familiar, like the solo woman lost in a foreign train station and simply clueless and with a language barrier feeling quite sorry for herself.  Another woman who speaks English randomly spots her and manages to make things right.  It’s a simple story but I’ll never tire of it.

Wisdom Along the Way

I’ve learned a lot during my years on the road, and often these were lessons that I didn’t know I needed and events I could never have predicted.  One of the stories I liked the most was from Michael Crichton, who talks about how he started carrying so much damn luggage that he started to hate travelling.    So, he stopped carrying so much stuff.  He says:

It turned out I had a fine time.  I read the magazines that were on the plane.  I talked to people.  I stared out the window.  I thought about things.  It turned out I didn’t need any of that stuff I thought I needed.  In fact, I felt a lot more alive without it.

Get a Copy

Want some travel-inspired inspiration for your coffee table or bookshelf?  Then pick up a copy of Chicken Soup for the Travelers Soul today:

Editorial Disclosure: The author was given a promotional copy of this guide, but the opinions expressed here are of the author, not the publisher.

Sometimes it is hard for me to explain how a book gets my attention. Today’s recommended reading, Whatever You Do, Don’t Run, certainly has some curb appeal (don’t run?  why not?).  But then I realised that it was a journal/diary/story about the life of a safari tour guide in Botswana.  As an ‘employee’ of the tourism industry too, I always wonder others have to say about their dream travel jobs.

This book was everything I wanted and more.  It was insightful, funny, and factual-this-is-how-it-works all wrapped in one.  Let’s dive a bit further…

Why I Loved This

There’s one page in this book that not only summarises the purpose of this guide, but I think it also explains why I loved it – because it’s a book about someone who loves what they do, from the funny to the outrageous to the downright bizarre.  Here’s the text:

“Don’t you ever get tired of doing this everyday?”, [my guests would] ask, sometimes a little exasperated.

“Tired, yes.  But never of watching animals….When my alarm goes off, I hate it with a passion,” I would explain.  ”Then I remember where I am, and that once I drag my backside out of bed I’m going to go and watch wild animals.  If you had told me as a boy that this would be my job, I wouldn’t have believed you.  All I ever watched on television were nature documentaries and the occasional James Bond film.  I thought that because they were on television they had the same degree of reality.  So if you had asked if I wanted to be a safari guide when I grew up, I would have said no, because to me it was foolish and unrealistic as wanting to be a debonair super-spy.  So, when I get really tired now and it’s cold and my pillow feels too good to leave, I remember one thing:  I’ve got the coolest job in the world.  I’m James Bond.”

Wow.  That is powerful stuff.  I can relate – I feel exactly the same about my job (except, uhm, the wild animals part. Each of you readers are wonderful, but I don’t think of you with the same regard as a wild jackal.)

Safari Classic Moments

Sometimes, Peter seems like one of those people who just has a ‘knack’ for guiding and was just doing the wrong thing before he landed in this job.  Other times he seems like a klutz and you’re waiting to figure out how the heck a guy that was mangled by lions managed to write  a book.  (The truth?  It was someone else, not Peter who got mangled by a lion.)

But there are lots of moments that are just so safari awesome.  Such as:

• The crazy driving through desert plains one moment, and then in a beautiful oasis the next
• Guides trying to imitate animal calls, sometimes to great effect – but never exactly the effect that was intended.
• In depth descriptions of nearly extinct animals I’d never ever heard of.

As with any tourism experience, it isn’t just the tour guide that’s part of the story.  It’s also the visitors and guests as well – and Botswana is no exception.  I hope none of Peter’s former guests read the book, or else they’ll be confronted with another perspective on their own bizarre behaviours!  (I won’t include them here, but there were plenty of country stereotypes… you can just guess which ones.)

But Emotion Too!

This was the kicker for me – I didn’t expect some of the very emotional stories that really pulled at the heartstrings!  one story reminds us that life goes on, even in the bush.  He tells the story of a fellow guide who dies, of disease, not an animal attack.  It’s a terribly surreal moment.

In another chapter, we learn that the guides often become ‘friends’ and give names to some of the animals that they see often.  And unfortunately, the rules of the bush are that you don’t interfere and let nature take its course.  Which means that often, an animal that has become a “friend” dies, and you really can’t do anything about it.  It made me wonder for a minute if I could stomach being a safari tour guide – it was certainly an aspect to the job I had never considered. Peter says, about the death of one of their ‘pet’ friends:

What we both knew was that this was Africa, where life is often short and brutal. We didn’t really to to console each other. We both blustered about how dangerous it is to get attached to a wild animal, for if anything, Beau’s demise and extraordinary distribution just served to illustrate that in the end, we all go back to nature.

Get Yours

I’ve never been on a safari, which you’d think might be useful to enjoy this book, but in fact it has just more piqued my interest.  If you’ve been on a safari, I suspect you’ll find this book hysterical.  Either way, it gets my stamp of approval for being humorous, informative, and downright poignant all at the same time.  Bravo, Peter Allison.

Buy yours today through our affiliate partner, Amazon:

Editorial Disclosure: The author was given a review copy of this guide, which did not influence the contents  of this article.

Photo by p_c_w

Have ever been at a crossroads in life, a point where you were actively looking for the next thing but weren’t sure what you were looking for?  That’s exactly where we find Erik Mirandette in his travelogue, The Only Road North.  It’s not just an emotional travel tale, but but in fact a powerful, visceral book that took me on a journey on several levels.  It was a book that immediately jumped out at me when I heard it, and when the publisher sent me a copy I was quite eager to dive in.

The Story

So Erik is a man on a mission: to find his mission.  He’s lost his sense of self-identity, and he goes on a crusade of volunteering to find it.  He ends up in Morocco, risking his personal safety to help a tribe of homeless Moroccans in Al Hoceima.  While you might find this storyline less than exciting, Erik has a way with words and this is just the opening act for this adventure.

After being told he can never return to Morocco or risk being permanently banned from the country forever, Erik has to abandon the very thing that finally started to give his live some purpose and sense of direction.  Dropping back into his emotional void, Erik proposes a ridiculous move: to rent dirt bikes with his brother and a friend, and drive 9,000 miles along the east coast of Africa, from South Africa to Egypt.

It might sound silly, and perhaps it was, but what really is silly in the spirit of adventure.  They were guaranteed an experience of a lifetime, and one they would never forget.  Unsurprisingly, some of the post poignant parts of the journey were not things you could have even expected.

Travelling Africa

Their route was to take the boys across no less than 10 African countries – somewhere white men hadn’t ventured for at least a decade.  There were countries rife with genocide and lawlessness, and countries split in the midst of civil war.   Not to say they were stupid, as these guys were more prepared than a pack of boy scouts, but unexpected mishaps weren’t just a possibility, they were to be expected.

Erik takes us along the journey through a series of well edited snapshots that really bring to life every stage of the route, from the bribing of the border guards to worries of being eaten at night by lions (yes, seriously).  The nice thing is that this book doesn’t just focus on the most interesting tales – yes there was some sightseeing here and there when possible – nor does it only focus on the worst of the worst.  It also includes a fair balance all types of experiences, so when you put down this book, you really understand what their circumstances were like.

Sometimes, you see what’s coming and other times, it is unexpected.  As Erik mentions:

I had seen poverty, people who live and die with nothing; last year’s work in Morocco accustomed me to such suffering.  But in Burundi I saw something I had never seen before.  War was in your face all the time, everywhere you looked.  The people here were poor,  yes.  They lived without what we consider bare survival essentials – but it was more than that.  Uncertainty loomed over their heads every day.  War had come and gone and a person alive in this city had not lost someone.

Erik and his crew are fairly young, so one could imagine them taking a fairly cynical view of the events and happenings in more salubrious nations.  But these guys are far wiser than they give themselves credit for – these are the kind of people who should be ambassadors and political representatives.  People who listen first, act, and never judge.

And Then, The Ending

Normally, I hate book reviews that reveal the ending, but in this case I don’t feel out of place, given that the ending is previewed in the first chapter and I feel a journalistic need to warn you that this is not a happy tale.  As the introduction says, “[This story] is of love and hate, life and death, brotherhood and utter solitude, faith and doubt.  The last thing the world needs is another self-help or feel-good-faith book, seven simple steps to whatever….The truth is that life is far too complex to be put in a box….I write to you as a mere seeker , a fellow traveler….”

At the end of their journey, Erik and his friends end up in Egypt for several days of sightseeing and relaxing before catching their flight back to the United States.   Cairo is probably one of the safest and least-risky places in all of the 9,000 miles of countryside they covered.  However, just a couple of days before their departure, the boys are walking down a lane near one of the popular markets, when a suicide bomber detonates a backpack full of nails and explosives while standing in the middle of the boys.

In Summary

This book really shook me to my very core.  I questioned whether it should be featured here, because I feel like it’s an outstanding piece of literature, but recommending it carries a weight of responsibility.   I asked myself, are Sharing Travel Experiences readers ready for a text like this?  I came to the conclusion that if you are ready, you’ll buy a copy, and if you aren’t sure, you probably won’t.  Hopefully simple as that.

For me, the reality of this book and the lesson one must take away is that we as human beings are terrible at judging risks.  We can die any day – often our risks at home aren’t that different than some foreign places, just that we are more comfortable with ways we could die at home (car accidents being by far the majority for most of us), whereas abroad it seems every little foreign quirk could be a lethal move.

Risks should be acknowledged, but they shouldn’t be a barrier to travel.

My lingering question as this book came to a close was simply, was it worth it?  Did Erik feel like their journey was wasted, given the unfortunate circumstances in which it resulted?  Well, I didn’t have to ask, as Erik answers my question, and I’d like to close with his words, because they’re powerful and I couldn’t really do them justice.

I still have a lot of unanswered questions.  A lot of things will never make sense to me.  I may never have quite the faith that I used to have.  I will live the rest of my life deeply scarred both inside and out…. The truth is that we can never escape that risk, be it in a lonely dorm room or across the ocean in the midst of a civil war, whether it be for something great and noble or for nothing at all; with each breath we roll the dice and hope for the best.

There are things in this life that are far worse than death.  A grave awaits each of us, and in the grand scheme of things, is being alive for eighty years any longer than eighteen years?  Our life is just a breath, whether we die old and gray or young and vibrant.  When death comes for us, it will not matter how many years we managed to preserve our existence but rather what we did with the short time we were given on this earth.

Pick Up Your Copy

Are you ready?  Then pick up your copy today:

Editorial Disclosure: The author was given a review copy of this guide, which did not influence the contents  of this article.