Beautiful and Horrific
“You want to visit Auschwitz?”
The man wasn’t Polish. I couldn’t place the accent. We were shivering in Krakow’s main station. Trains to the camp were few and far between.
A Door, a Cave, a Flower
What to do then, staying at a countryside chateau whose foundations had stood since the 11th century? The very edifice in which the famed Alexander Dumas had spent part of his childhood, and thus, must surely have drawn some inspiration from? As an avid reader of his works, I was burning with excitement, eager to absorb any possible magic that had enabled him to spin out such tales as The Three Musketeers and Man in the Iron Mask. Of course, no matter how I raved, nor however apparent my swoon, my sister Alexis was unable to appreciate the importance of this 2-week stay (“Who is Dumas anyway?”). I vainly resolved to cure her of it.
The first night was harrowing. As the chateau was five times the size of a normal house, it was perfectly plausible that the standard creaks and groans would be multiplied by five as well. Early the next morning we breakfasted marvelously on pain au chocolat and, armed with flashlights, set off to explore the cave-riddled grounds. These caves were man-made, just created in the late 18th century, but who knew what they were intended to store (or hide!). In the recesses of my mind I half-hoped to uncover a scene akin to the Cask of Amontillado.
Earthquake: Tonga
I awoke to a terrible shaking sensation at around four in the morning. At first I thought the large Tongan woman sleeping beside me had put another quarter in the vibrating bed machine- kidding. Books were falling off the shelves, pigs and dogs outside were barking, howling and squealing at the tops of their little lungs. It took a minute, but I realized I was experiencing an earthquake.
Now, some people might freak out and run into the ocean or wrap a shotgun around their lips. But as the Navy Seals fall back on their training when confronted by life threatening situations, I did not panic, but simply fell back on my training. Pointedly, my second grade earthquake awareness safety video training. Why we watched those in Nebraska, I have no idea. Maybe they knew dilatants like me would wind up in earthquake hotbeds on the other side of the world someday.
The Trouble With Burma
Over the last few weeks, I’ve written a fair amount about the situation in Burma. It now appears as if the situation is at an impasse. After a tumultuous month, the wave of opposition has crested, and what has it led us to? The UN envoy that passed through Burma several weeks ago achieved little, if anything. The new head of the UN, Ban Ki-moon, even admitted to the press that negotiations in Burma were fruitless efforts.
Just a day ago, President Bush spoke openly about the atrocious misdeeds committed by the Burmese regime. That seems sort of odd to me, because sanctions were already pretty severe there to begin with. I can’t really think of any goods sold between the two countries, and the only exchange of money that takes place are the few tourist dollars spent by travelers there.
Our Travel Picks for the Week 10/19/07
If you are looking for an off the beaten path travel experience that lets you become a part of local culture from the ground up and provides you with a sense of fulfillment, volunteering on an organic farm is a choice worth considering. Unlike some ecotour packages, most organic farm experiences cost very little and reward you with a heightened awareness of the communities you visit. Caroline Nye, a veteran agrotourism volunteer, shares her thoughts in Volunteer Work on Organic Farms.
Every Mountain Has its Faces
I am in Connemara, County Galway at the Sleepzone hostel. It’s really hard to describe how lovely it is here. The landscape has great character and ruggedness, and also great beauty. I’m struck by how individual each mountain face seems, much like a human’s face. They have history, personality, lines of wear and erosion, signs of stress and pampering, rolling hills, jagged rocks and deep, dark water that’s tossed by the harsh Atlantic gusts.
Pumpkins Away!
Fall brings many wonderful things in its wake. From the leaves tinged with color, to the cool, crisp feeling in the air, fall is an enchanting season for all. It is all capped off, of course, with the Halloween festivities at the end of October as little goblins and ghosts roam around in search of candy, only to later collapse in a sugar crash of epic proportions. The next day they carefully document the haul and report it to their friends at school. The most fruitful among them are given a certain measure of jealous respect.
For many, the greatest memories of Halloween are not the candy or absurd costumes, but the traditional carving of the pumpkin. The carving of the pumpkin is a timeless and storied tradition. I still remember my first pumpkin, a big, lumpy, garish specimen. I scooped seemingly forever and then awkwardly and clumsily carved something that vaguely looked like a face on the front.
But I was always confused where all of the left over pumpkins would go. Every October, the grocery stores would be filled to the brim with pumpkins. Most were bought for carving. Some were bought to make pumpkin pie or to roast the seeds. But what could have been done with all of the extras?
Have Lie, Will Travel
I remember committing bigamy in India…. Well, I did lots of other things, too, but bigamy isn’t the sort of thing you forget. It makes me think, though, about everything you aren’t told before you start traveling. Thousands of travel articles have been written over the years, but how many tell you what you really need to know? Pick anywhere in the world and you can find a feature – if not hundreds – on it. Whether you want to know ‘the best places to stay’, ‘where to eat’, or even ‘what to do’, you can guarantee there will be articles to answer your question. So what? You could find all that out quite easily once there, just ask around. I’m awash with brochures detailing answers to all the above questions and some others I haven’t even thought of.
The New House of Traveling Stories Magazine
Well, between rectally cows and studying for endless veterinary examines, I have now finished the TSM online redesign.
The response to the TSM project has been very supportive creating an active community of travel loving readers and writers. I thank all of you who have submitted stories for the writing contest as it has provided the TSM community with exotic daily adventures and contest leader board excitement
Message from Afghanistan’s Taliban : Sincerity or Lip Service ?
The mullah’s call to prayer broke Kabul’s eerie silence. It was my first morning in Afghanistan and I squinted to see the time on my watch, it was 4:30. My body shivered under the sleeping bag shrugging off March’s chill. Like most Kabul neighborhoods, the electricity was cut off during the night and the generator ran out of fuel. The innkeepers scurried in the morning darkness lighting a fire in the woodstove. I tried to return to sleep but the reality of being in Afghanistan for my 10-day vacation kept me awake. “What am I doing here?” I asked myself.
Terror. Tourism. The latter isn’t typically associated with Afghanistan but I chose to spend my vacation in Kabul with a human rights organization, walking the streets, meeting with people and seeing how the war-torn country is surviving. I never imagined I’d be eye-to-eye with the enemy having a civil conversation but on my first full day in Kabul, that’s exactly what happened.
