Matador Network's Blog, page 2130

How to deal with travel envy

Photo: -MRGT-

1. Take a break from the travel blogs.

Ugh. Admit it: you only look at most of them for the pretty pictures, anyway. Most of the content is trite, lacking, ridden with self-aggrandizing language, and the more-than-occasional typo. They’re the Facebook of the travel industry and sometimes you just need to take a break for a while. If you’re really addicted, switch to plain ol’ international news outlets, literary travel writing, and commercial websites. They’re less personal and more educational — and therefore more likely to fuel the fires of motivation instead of the fires of jealousy.

2. Start planning a trip now.

It doesn’t matter if it’s never going to happen; just do it. Go on airfarewatchdog.com and find the cheapest routes out of your preferred airport. Once you find a couple of destinations you wouldn’t mind going to, research them. Find reviews on non-shitty hostels or respectable but out-of-the-way boutique hotels, what hot spots you want to be seen drinking mojitos in, what tattooed characters you want to make out with in which sleazy dive bars, and what photos you just have to take for your blog because if you didn’t, you’d hate yourself. Get it down to an art. Maybe you’ll go, maybe you won’t. But you’ll probably go.

3. Create your travel budget.

This is not a trip budget: this is a travel budget — there’s a difference. One is allotting how much money to spend on what things, and the other is how much money you can cut down. You’ve been spending your money to live, not spending your money to travel. Now that you know there’s someplace beckoning you in your immediate future — or many, many places — it’s time to listen to that and start saving up. You may not spend this money for six months, you may not spend this money for two years — but it’ll be there when you finally need it. Where does it come from? That skipped latte, the move to just Netflix, the weekend-home-cooking vow. It’s not how much money you need, it’s how much money you can save.

4. Start an at-home “around the world” tour.

Sometimes when you’re stuck at home, slaving away at your 9 to 5 saving up, or simply just waiting for the rainy season to pass, you’ve gotta bring the world to you. Document all the interesting types of cuisine in your area — is there an Ethiopian place you’ve yet to try? Maybe Burmese? If you live somewhere with a little less ethnic flavor, consider that an occasion for a dinner party. In this scenario, the internet is your best friend.

But it doesn’t stop at just food. Check out that Czech museum 45 minutes away. Go see that Lithuanian Polka band that you would otherwise never go to. Just because you’re “at home” doesn’t mean you have to do “at-home” things. Your world can be whatever you want it to be if you’re willing to create it.

5. Fill your schedule with “somethings” instead of “somewheres.”

Traveling isn’t just about going — it’s about doing, too. If you simply went to Istanbul and didn’t do anything, that wouldn’t be much of a trip, right? Life isn’t about where you are, but what you’re doing with it. “Exotic” and “adventurous” are subjective, and you have the means to do interesting, write-home worthy things without booking a $1500 plane ticket to Timbuktu. The reason home feels like home is because it’s full of daily routines. When you switch up those routines — when you take a Saturday to go zip-lining or a night to stay at a B&B — home no longer feels like monotonous, run-of-the-mill home. Keep busy and your life can feel enriching wherever you are.

6. Start reaching out to all your global acquaintances.

Keeping busy will feel good, but there will always be that itch to go somewhere you don’t recognize, where your senses are on high alert and your adrenaline is flowing freely. As part of this keeping busy, living-globally-at-home lifestyle, start hitting up all your friends around the world just to say “Hi.” Get back into their good graces, since it’s probably been a while since you’ve had a chat. Drop a convivial, un-needy line now and you can drop the actual bomb later: “Hey, can I crash on your couch in a couple of months?”

7. Funnel your creativity into a project.

You have all this zest, this fire, this drive — why not do something with it? Plan a mystery trip for you and a few friends. Paint one of your favorite scenes. Start writing about the places you’ve been. Heck, this could be the green light for what you’re meant to do: selling your baklava to local bakeries, planning local tourism events, or heading up a language club. And who knows? It could be your ticket on the next train out whether it’s through meeting new people, hearing of new opportunities, or just getting you closer to where you want to be. And even if it doesn’t, your schedule will feel worthwhile, productive, and feel like a step in the right direction.

8. Remember your hometown is a destination to someone else.

There are so few places on Earth that have never seen a tourist; odds are if you’re reading this, you’re not in one. There is someone right now who is Googling your town and wondering (and finding!) fun things to do. Put yourself in their shoes: where’s the best cup of coffee? Where’s the closest, most accessible adrenaline rush? The best bike path or vegetarian burrito? And when you find something worthy, take pictures of it. Open your eyes and look around like you’re seeing it for the first time. What’s something you’ve never noticed before? When you channel your inner tourist, when you realize your adventure is just as unique as anyone else’s, you’ll feel a little sated. Your resolve will be that much stronger, and when that monster starts whispering again, you’ll know just where to tell her she can go.

Tips for dating an Italian girl

Photo: aenimation

1.What getting a phone number means

An American girl giving you her phone number means she is considering going out with you. It doesn’t take long to get — after all, it’s her number, not a wedding ring. The same for Italian girls, right? HA!

With an Italian girl, you will work hard just to get her phone number. Right away, she wants to have an idea of how hard you are going to work to get her attention. In Italian we say (roughly translated): “He who begins well is halfway done”. Begin.

2. Who asks who out

An American girl will show you if she has interest in you, and she won’t be afraid to ask you out.

An Italian girl probably won’t ask you out first. Actually, take the ‘probably’ away. You need to ask her out first, always. Even the second time. And the third time.

3. Game on

An American girl isn’t so much into ‘the chase’ — she generally doesn’t run away for too long, or too far away. If she says she can’t go when you ask her out for a date, it’s probably true. Insisting too much would be inappropriate.

An Italian girl always wants to know how much you are willing to work for her. The fact that she says no the first time doesn’t mean she can’t go out or doesn’t want to. She is testing you. Now, the third time she says no, she means it (and don’t insist). But don’t take the first no as a fail. It’s a challenge, so accept it.

4. Primping required

American girls pay attention to how they dress, but guys… not so much. They’re often deemed as looking acceptable once they meet the minimum standards.

Italian guys take the same amount of time to get ready as American girls. On the one hand, fashion, elegance, and taste are embedded in the Italian culture, so Italian guys don’t even notice they have this going for them. But in Italy, especially for the first date, looks definitely count a lot.

5. Odd numbers mean good odds

An American girl can take time away from her friend to talk to you on a night out. She might even ditch her friend for half the night, depending how interested in you she is.

An Italian girl would never leave her friend alone. Therefore, either have a friend so you all pair up, or you need an odd number: 1, she is by herself; or 3, so she can spend some time with you because she leaves two friends together.

6. Chivalry is definitely not dead

American girls are much less used to guys being gentlemen — opening the door for the lady, waiting for her to sit before you sit, etc. Also, American girls often offer to share the bill after a few dates.

In Italy, it is going to be much longer before a girl pays for something when you go out for a coffee / drink / dinner. Italian girls expect, and demand, chivalry. Rightly so.

7. Skilled flirting is mandatory

American girls like flirting, but they’re much more direct. A good flirt is always enjoyable, but perhaps they are not too used to it.

For Italian girls, it not only is the ‘cherry on top of the cake’ (as we say in Italy), it is an art you are going to have to master if you want to date an Italian girl.

17 signs you're from Chicago

Photo: Robert Martinez

1. You know what “Lake Effect” means.

Bundle up, that’s what.

2. You’ll always think Channel 11 is the best public access channel ever.

You learned to cook with the Frugal Gourmet, listened to the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, and first fell in love with Siskel & Ebert and their movie reviews watching WTTW.

3. You know the Empire Carpet jingle by heart.

Sing it with me: 800-588-2300 EMPIRE!

4. Coach Ditka and The Bears are your religion.

You still listen to the Super Bowl Shuffle and routinely chant, “Daaaaa Bears Da Bears Da Bears Da Bears!”

5. You still rep the reign of Jordan (rightfully so).

You outreach your arm, tongue wagging in the air for pictures, and break out your number 23 jersey to attend Bulls games (or to go anywhere in the city).

6. For you, LSD isn’t just a psychedelic drug.

Lake Shore Drive (LSD for short) is one of the prettiest inner-city drives in the country. Traffic can be a nightmare, but it doesn’t bother you because you have front row seats to the number one thing that makes your city so great: Lake Michigan.

7. You’ve left the house bundled up looking like Randy from A Christmas Story.

After Tom Skilling issued the warning for impending sub-zero temperatures, you’ve left the house wearing a minimum of 3 layers including a snowsuit, mittens, and face mask.

8. You’d never dare put ketchup on your hotdog.

All Chicagoans know that their hotdogs are to only be comprised of the following: An all-beef dog on a poppy seed bun topped with tomato slices, white onions, relish, a pickle spear, sports peppers, celery salt, and mustard. It’s a cardinal sin to even consider reaching for the ketchup. Chances are you tried to once, but a hardcore Chicagoan slapped your hand away from the bottle.

9. Even though Brookfield Zoo is bigger, you know Lincoln Park Zoo is better.

Although Brookfield is more “fancy,” you prefer Lincoln Park Zoo to the hoity-toity suburbanite zoo any day. You appreciate that Lincoln Park Zoo is right near the lake in the city, and best of all, it’s free!

10. The “El” isn’t just a letter in the alphabet.

You’ve never had a problem getting where you need to go in Chicago because you’ve always relied on the El. Every local knows that the “El” stands for Chicago Transit Authority’s elevated rail system, but that’s too much of a mouthful. “I’m gonna take da El down to Chinatown for some of dat der Dim Sum.”

11. You’ve attended The Taste every year.

Nothing stands between the crowd of a million plus people and your love for a barbecued turkey leg. The Taste of Chicago has always been and always will be a staple of your summer festival schedule.

12. You grew up vacationing in Wisconsin Dells.

You remember going up to The Dells before it was the waterpark capital of the world. You probably stayed at Old Newport in a modest little cabin and rented a boat to explore the upper and lower Dells’ rock formation beauty. And you’ve most definitely ridden the Wisconsin Ducks.

13. You still call it Sears Tower.

You absolutely refuse to call Willis Tower by its new name and still refer to it as Sears Tower.

14. You know who the hell Svengoolie is.

You eagerly look forward to Svengoolie and his top hat-makeup-wearing shenanigans on television. His low-budget hosted horror movie program is chock-full of corny jokes, commentary, and trivia. You can’t get enough of his ghoulish getup any time of year, and you just can’t pass up another viewing of The Brides of Dracula.

15. You or someone you know has a cottage in Michigan “on the lake.”

As soon as the weather turns nice, you’re planning a getaway to your cottage for a weekend of grilling out, boating, wave running, and bonfires.

16. You know some of the best food is slung from Mexican pushcarts.

Tacos, tamales, corn, chicharrones, Mexican cokes, frozen chocolate-covered bananas: the treats found from a Mexican pushcart are endless. Usually while relaxing on Oak Street Beach you hear the familiar sound of bells jingling. Like a Pavlovian dog, you immediately begin to salivate, dig for your wallet, and chase down the pushcart for some Mexican treats.

17. You’ve learned to accept that there are two seasons in Chicago: Winter and Construction.

Construction is nearly constant in the spring and summer months. With pothole damage caused from long, hard winters, road construction easily sets back your commute 30 minutes to an hour every day.

Signs you learned to drink in Ohio

Photo by TemporarySpastic

1. You have at least one friend with party plates.

Sure, everyone tries to secure a DD before heading out for the night, but it’s so easy to start the night by saying, “I’ll just have one,” and then end the night by getting a DUI and earning the scarlet letter license plates.

2. Your first illicit sip of booze was in the basement of a friend’s parent’s house while they were on vacation.

I mean, let’s face it: you’re way more likely to get caught using a fake ID at some shitty bar than you are scattering into the woods when the cops break the party up.

3. You’ve drank way more Natty Light than you care to admit.

If you’re a Cincinnatian, you justified this by saying, “Don’t trash the ‘Nati: Let the Natty trash you.”

4. Your list of favorite drinking venues includes a stadium parking lot and an outdoor music pavilion.

I don’t know if we invented tailgating, but we damn well perfected it.

5. When you left the state the first time, you never understood why convenience stores wouldn’t sell you beer.

Why would you go into a convenience store if not for beer?

6. You’ve spent more on beer in a UDF than you have on ice cream.

The shakes are pretty good, but if I wanted ice cream, I’d go down the road to Dairy Queen.

7. Paying $5 for a beer makes absolutely no sense to you.

Why? Why would anyone in any other state pay that much for a beer?

8. You’re way better at playing cornhole when you’re hammered.

For whatever reasons, 10 beers gives you the perfect amount of lift and rotation on the bag.

9. Someone has unironically suggested cow-tipping while you’ve been drinking.

You probably didn’t do it, but the fact that it was suggested was bad enough.

10. You’ve furtively swigged Jack Daniels out of a Coke bottle underneath the bleachers during a high school football game.

Or some shitty off-brand diluted whiskey like Old Dan Tucker, if JD was too rich for your tastes.

11. Your pregaming was always better than the actual going out.

No offense to Ohio bars and clubs, but there’s something special about drinking on porches, in basements, or in kitchens while talking to friends that pubs and dancing could never really make up for.

12. You’ve had shots with a professional football player.

In both Cincinnati and Cleveland, it’s relatively normal to stumble across a Bengals or Browns player while out for a weekend drink. I do not know anyone in Cincinnati who hasn’t been at a bar with Rey Maualuga.

13. Cabrewing is literally your favorite thing in the world.

A cooler of beer in a canoe or a tube while you float down a lazy, summertime river? Absolutely perfect.

14. You’ve traveled once — just once — to Kentucky for a bottle of Everclear.

It was not worth it.

15. You grew up drinking light beer, but are now submerged in a sea of craft beer.

Ohio has been at the vanguard of the craft beer revolution — which seems unlikely considering how ubiquitous shitty light beer was for so many decades.

10 effects of living in Savannah

Photo: lovehatekara

1. You often forget what century it is.

Savannah is all about historic preservation — nothing too tall, nothing too modern. Antebellum structures are refurnished into restaurants and business establishments. Lanterns light “steamboat gothic” porches. Spanish moss drapes from live oak and caresses the 18th-century cobblestone streets.

And if it weren’t for the high population of skateboarding hipsters holding plastic cups of PBR and sporting nonprescription glasses, it would be easy to get swept away in a time warp to the days of birdcage dresses and salty pirates soaked in rum. Though, don’t get me wrong, there’s still a lot of rum soaking here.

2. You’re hungover more mornings than not.

George Washington once came to Savannah and ordered a Chatham Artillery Punch — a concoction of tea, lemon, brown sugar, wine, rum, brandy, gin, and whiskey. It left him so hungover, he swore never to return.

Not much has changed. We still serve the same punch at the Shrimp Factory.

More like this: 12 things to do in Savannah while you're still in your 20s


3. Your taste buds are forever spoiled from Shit Yeah! Sauce.

We’ve got Zunzi’s where you can order an Oliver’s Lunch from the guy behind the food bar. “Shit yeah!” he’ll say as he slams your plate full of creamy mashed potatoes, Italian-seasoned chicken, and smoked South African sausage, all drenched in Tzatziki dressings with a gravy known only as “Shit Yeah! Sauce.”

Or for a celebrity meal from Zunzi’s, there’s the Conquistador. This hoagie was featured as one of the final contestants on Adam Richman’s Best Sandwich in America on Man vs Food.

We’ve got the Savannah Bee Company where you can taste a free slice of green honey crisp apple topped with a slab of honeycomb and Gruyere Cheese. We’ve got creamy bowls of crab bisque laced with sherry. We’ve got plates of grits whipped with cheese, seasoned shrimp, sauteed sweet red peppers, and slices of andouille sausage moistened in a Cajun butter sauce. We’ve got rose petal ice cream from Leopold’s. We’ve got greasy pizza from Sweet Melissa’s that will sop up the night’s debauchery.

We’ve got all the ingredients needed for one to eat their way through the city. And it can be done all while avoiding Paula Deen’s restaurant — The Lady and Sons. Which brings me to my next point…

4. Paula Deen? Nope, not a fan.

No, you’ve never met her. No, you’ve never seen her. No, you don’t eat at her restaurant. Do you care to? Maybe if you’re ever craving a burned hole in your wallet from mediocre buffet food doused in melted butter served with a side of fried pig lard and an aura of looming racism.

5. You know that trying to find your way around other cities will forever suck.

Savannah was dubbed America’s first planned city. It’s not only one of the most walkable places in the country, it’s also one of the easiest to learn. When you visit, say, Atlanta, nothing throws you for a loop harder than trying to find your way around that spaghetti junction of a place.

Savannah, on the other hand, is laid out in a perfect, flat series of grids fastened together by 22 historic squares. Within two days, you’ll have the streets memorized and the layout down pat. Just remember that, when in doubt find Abercorn Street, and if you fall into the river, you’ve gone too far.

6. You’ve begun to appreciate the smell of sulphur.

Complain about the river’s pungent smell all you want. While away from Savannah, nothing takes you back to River Street faster than getting a whiff of rotten eggs.

7. You’ve become immune to paranormal activity.

There’s only a handful of people here who claim to have never encountered anything supernatural. And they’re obviously lying.

But being the second-most haunted city in America does have its perks. After you survive a late 19th-century house where doorknobs fall off for no reason, a pissed off shadow bangs around in the kitchen, random puddles of water appear out of nowhere, and an apparition cries continuously in your bedroom, it takes more than a little paranormal action to rattle your bones.

Mass graves? Psh, no big deal. Your house is probably on one right now.

This story was produced through the travel journalism programs at MatadorU. Learn More


8. It now slips your mind that drinking in public isn’t cool everywhere.

Savannah is one of only six cities in America where you can drink in public, permitting that you’re not carrying more than 16 ounces and it’s concealed in a plastic cup. You will forever be yelled at for trying to leave with a drink in your hand.

9. You think you’re Irish.

We have the biggest St. Patrick’s Day Parade in the United States. Irish flags hang proudly in the windows. We throw back Jameson shots like it’s our daily vitamin.

Yet in the entirety of calling Savannah your home, you’ve only encountered one person from Ireland. Then, after hearing about his life back in Cork and marveling in his slurred Irish accent, he admitted over a bottle of Bailey’s that he, in fact, had been born and raised in Savannah. Turns out, he didn’t actually have an accent. He was just really Catholic.

Maybe it’s the fact that we dye our fountains green in March, or because the first baby born in Savannah was born on St. Patrick’s Day. Maybe it’s due to the early 19th-century settlers from Ireland who helped build the economy with their long hours for low pay. Or maybe because we have one of the largest Catholic cathedrals in the South.

No matter the reason, when we’re all gathered in a cluster of green attire to celebrate a holiday in which we have little affiliation with, we all feel strangely connected to Irish culture. Then again, it may just be because we’re drunk and wearing a pin that says: “I’m not Irish, but kiss me anyway.”

10. You fucking love this place.

When General Sherman carried out his famous March to the Sea during the American Civil War, he was so taken with the beauty of Savannah that he offered the town to President Lincoln as a Christmas present. This ultimately saved Savannah from being burned to the ground.

And today, she’s just as beautiful as she was back then — just slightly dirtier and a whole lot sultrier.

The 20 funniest French expressions

Photo: Ben Raynal

1. The French don’t “piss you off”…they “shit you off” (Faire chier quelqu’un).

2. The French don’t call you “idiotic”…they call you “as dumb as a broom” (Être con comme un balai).

3. The French don’t “blow you off”…they “give you the rake” (Se prendre un râteau).

4. The French don’t tell you that “they don’t care”…they tell you that “they care about it like they care about their very first shirt” (S’en foutre comme de sa première chemise).

5. The French don’t say “this is annoying me”…they say “I’m getting swollen by this” (Ça me gonfle).

6. The French don’t tell you to “leave them alone”…they tell you to “go and cook yourself an egg” (Aller se faire cuire un œuf).

7. The French don’t tell you that “you’re grumpy”…they tell you that “you’re farting sideways” (Avoir un pet de travers).

8. The French don’t “go crazy”…they “break a fuse” (Péter un plomb).

9. The French are not “bumbling”…they have “their two feet in the same clog” (Avoir les deux pieds dans le même sabot).

10. The French are not “energized”…they have “the potato” or the “French fry” (Avoir la patate/la frite).

11. The French don’t tell you “to mind your own business”…they tell you “to deal with your own onions” (Occupe-toi de tes oignions).

12. The French are not “broke”…they are “scythed like wheat fields” (Être fauché comme les blés).

13. The French are not “very lucky”…they have “as much luck as a cuckold” (Avoir une veine de cocu).

14. The French don’t say “it’s useless”…they say “it’s like pissing in a violin” (Pisser dans un violon).

15. The French are not “ungrateful”…they “spit in the soup” (Cracher dans la soupe).

16. The French don’t “fuss about something”…they “make a whole cheese about it” (En faire tout un fromage).

17. The French don’t “give someone a tongue-lashing”…they “yell at them like they’re rotten fish” (Engueuler quelqu’un comme du poisson pourri).

18. French men don’t “sleep around”…they “dip their biscuit” (Tremper son biscuit).

19. The French are not “big-headed”…they “fart higher than their ass is located” (Péter plus haut que son cul).

20. The French don’t “shup someone up”…they “nail someone’s beak” (Clouer le bec de quelqu’un).

9 cities with actual cat cafes

If you thought cat cafes were a purely Japanese phenomenon, we’ve got good news (or bad news if you’re allergic): you can also drink coffee and snuggle kitties in cities all over Europe and Asia. And briefly this month, you could also do it in New York, at America’s first pop-up cat cafe.

If you couldn’t make it to New York, or if you can’t handle the long lines, never fear; permanent cat cafes are coming to San Francisco and Oakland, Portland, and LA. But until then, you can work kitty cuddles into your travel plans even if you’re not going anywhere near Tokyo. Here are nine other cities around the world where you can get cat love with your cappuccino.

1. Budapest, Hungary

Cat Cafe Budapest also bills itself as a gallery for cat-themed art.

2. Paris, France

Photo: Le Cafe des Chats/Facebook

Parisian cat cafe Le Cafe des Chats recommends that you make a reservation before visiting — the French are serious about their coffee and their cats.

3. Penang, Malaysia

Photo: Purrfect Cat Cafe Facebook

Purrfect Cat Cafe is located on an island off the coast of Malaysia. It seems like a bit of a headache to get there, but how can you deny these faces?

4. Vienna, Austria

Vienna is famous for its coffeeshops. Some used to be gathering places for famous writers or composers, but only Cafe Neko is full of cats.

5. Bangkok, Thailand

Purr Cat Cafe Club features cat-shaped scones and some of the most outrageously cute kitties we’ve ever seen.

6. Devon, England

Photo:
Totnes Cats Cafe Facebook

Totnes Cats Cafe

7. Madrid, Spain

Photo La Gatoteca Facebook

For some reason all the cats at La Gatoteca look a little pissed off, but they’re probably just being European. Or maybe they just hate that mural.

8. Berlin, Germany

Photo: Pee Pees Katzencafe Facebook

The name is a little on the nose, but this German Pee Pees Katzencafe is a haven of both cute cats and fancy baked goods.

9. Seoul, South Korea

Seoul actually has a number of cat cafes (and a bird cafe! Drink your coffee with flying dinosaurs!). Here are some pictures from one of them, Cats Living.

By Jess Zimmerman, GlobalPost

This article is syndicated from GlobalPost.

You know you live in Oz when...

Photo: Harald

1. Most of your income goes towards beer.

The rumors are true. Australians love their beer. Unfortunately, it’s also true that shit is way more expensive on their massive island. Remember the good old days (before you lived in Australia) when you could get a 30-pack of PBR from the local liquor mart for under $20? Those days are long gone. Add a beer category to your monthly budget because $50 for a carton is bound to take its toll on your bottom line.

2. You miss the sound of geckos when you travel.

To answer your first question, yes, geckos make sounds. You immediately learn this fact when trying to fall asleep in your newly-renovated Queenslander. Chirp chirp chirp. At first, you are disgusted that tiny lizards wander in and out of your house as they please, but after a while, they sound like home.

3. A “flat white” is now your go-to coffee order.

Thought coffee orders were universal? Think again. Flat white and long black are actual drink orders down under. After a few months, you’ll understand that an Australian cappuccino is not half foam like the Starbucks brand you know and love, but it does come sprinkled with delicious chocolate powder, so that’s a bonus.

4. You learn the true meaning of BAMF: Ned Kelly and Chopper.

Forget about James Bond and Die Hard. Australia’s got their own breed of real life bad asses, and they are damn proud of them. Once you unpack your suitcases in Australia (originally founded as a penal colony), there is no way around adopting Ned Kelly as your new Robin Hood and viewing Chopper as the legend that he was.

5. Elite status never came so easily on your chosen airline.

Once you move to Australia, you truly understand just how big of a country it really is. Traveling also helps to show you just how far away it is from every other country in the world. While this doesn’t do wonders for your wallet (especially if you don’t live in a major Australian city), it does accelerate your climb up the mileage ladder. You’ll be getting free upgrades to first class in no time!

6. Wearing a floppy sun hat is for everyone, not just movie stars.

With skin cancer being a box commonly checked on most Australians’ medical records, sun protection is very important. Instead of laying on the beach basking in the UV rays like you originally intended when you moved to the land of sunshine, you now have an array of floppy-brimmed hats that are completely acceptable to wear at any outdoor occasion.

7. Everything takes 6x longer to download anything.

You’d think that a developed first world country like Australia would have hopped on the broadband wagon long ago, but sadly this is far from the truth. According to a recent report from cloud service provider Akamai, Australia ranks 44th globally for internet speed. And after your Dropbox files take nine hours to sync, you’ll know they aren’t lying…

8. You suddenly don’t understand a single thing about politics.

Sooo… there’s a prime minister and some people called premiers that all hang out in Parliament and force you to vote. Somehow the Queen is still involved, yet you met last week with your town’s mayor for coffee. For anyone who moved to Australia from a democracy, you’re in for a treat. Time to get your British History notes back out from high school and piece together this political puzzle. Or, just join the Aussie masses who also have no clue what’s going on in Tony Abbott’s world.

9. “Mate” becomes the most used word in your vocabulary.

Whereas before you only used the word when cheekily putting on your best Aussie accent, now you don’t even realize that it creeps in every other sentence. “Dude” and “man” have entirely left your vernacular (thankfully), and accompanying a friendly wave with a “G’day mate” has never felt more natural.

10. Friends finally want to come visit you…but never do.

“I’ve always wanted to visit Australia!” But do they actually ever spend half their monthly income to buy the plane ticket? Nope. When you move to Australia, you get used to it. Of course people want to come visit the beautiful Gold Coast beaches and schedule a photoshoot snuggling a joey, but the reality is, you live thousands of miles from all your non-Aussie friends. Get used to FaceTime.

11. Your wardrobe no longer includes wool.

All those sweaters and pea coats seemed to have magically disappeared from your closet over the years. You now own more bikinis than pairs of socks, and your long underwear sits packed away with your snowboard gear. Although, on those Victoria winter nights, you sometimes wish you’d kept your Peruvian alpaca sweater handy.

12. Good Mexican food ceases to exist.

Sure there might be the occasional Guzman y Gomez on the corner, but they don’t even hold a candle to Qdoba, let alone those delicious hole-in-the-wall finds awaiting you back in America. Fill up on your burrito quota while racking up those frequent flier miles, because Australia definitely doesn’t live across the border from Mexico.

13. You finally start understanding cricket.

Ha! Just kidding! No one understands cricket.

21 reasons you should move to Seoul

1. You can watch the sun rise and set from the city’s four peaks.

Photo: IAN/Flickr Commons

You can also gaze upon the coolest, most sprawling neon-lit cityscape you’ll ever see.

2. There’s such a thing as haute-couture hiking.

Photo: CHELSEA MARIE HICKS/Flickr Commons

You can’t go a month without at least one hike. And some Seoul-lites take their hiking gear very seriously.

3. The spicy food will test your stomach of steel (yes, that’s a good thing).

Photo: RYAN PICKKEL/Flickr Commons

Restaurateurs will question your ability to indulge in fiery pepper-laden pickled dishes. Prove them wrong.

4. The internet is so good you can watch television on your smartphone in the subway.

Photo: BRENT SCHMIDT/Flickr Commons

Searing data speeds in Korea, the fastest in the world, mean your phone doubles as a portable television.

5. The booze is cheap, abundant, and a prerequisite for everything.

Photo: JAMIE CARTER/Flickr Commons

Your boss will probably order you to drink liters and liters of soju, a $1.25 bottle of liquor that tastes like vodka. It’s occasionally mixed with beer to concoct a hangover-inducing cocktail called somaek.

6. Did we mention it’s really abundant?

Photo: MARK ZASTROW/Flickr Commons

Jinro soju, the country’s most popular brand, is consumed more than any other liquor label in the world. Vodka comes second.

7. The mountains are endless, and endlessly beautiful.

Photo: MINYOUNG CHOI/Flickr Commons)

They’ve captivated Koreans for centuries as the source of folklore and spiritual beliefs. In myth, the Korean people originated on one, as did the former North Korean dictator, Kim Jong Il.

8. The karaoke bars are better than your bars.

Photo: RINUX/Flickr Commons

In Korea, it’s called noraebang. Psy and Rain are splashed all over the repertoire.

9. Gangnam style is more than just a dance.

Photo: STEVE KOON/Flickr Commons

Nose jobs and Louis Vuitton handbags are everywhere in this Beverly Hills-style district. More importantly, it’s a place to pay homage to the world’s most famous horse-galloping rapper.

10. Pirates of the Caribbean has its own knock-off.

Photo: SEUNG PARK/Flickr Commons

“Pharaoh’s Fury,” a ride at the Lotte World theme park in Seoul, offers the delights of Disneyland on the other side of the Pacific.

11. This mystery “sculpture” greets you at the Incheon airport.

Photo: PANDU POLUAN/Flickr Commons

Is it a giant, erect penis? Nobody knows.

12. Shamans and séances call all the big shots.

Photo: BRIAN MILLER/Flickr Commons

Ancient spirit work thrives in this high-tech city. Politicians and CEOs regularly consult their shamans, called mudangs, before making tough decisions.

13. The Korean rock scene is awesome.

Photo: RECANDPLAY.NET/Flickr Commons

Forget K-pop. The university district of Hongdae is home to one of Asia’s coolest indie scenes.

14. But the real rock stars are professional video gamers (it’s your fantasy coming true).

Photo: CYRUS FARIVAR/Flickr Commons

Fans go wild for their favorite gamers, who perform against each other at auditoriums and get the 5-star treatment.

15. It’s the Republic of Samsung.

Photo: SAMSUNG TOMORROW/Flickr Commons

You can live an entire day on Samsung products without even realizing it.

16. There’s a museum dedicated to kimchi.

Photo: ECO DALLA LUNA/Flickr Commons

Yes, there’s a museum for that, with more than 100 varieties of this pungent pickled cabbage.

17. The high-speed rail can take you across the country in a flash.

Photo: DOO HO KIM/Flickr Commons

The rest of the peninsula is reachable within a couple of hours — except, of course, North Korea, which sits behind a minefield.

18. The romantic Cheonggyecheon stream runs through the city center.

Photo: RYAN SUH/Flickr Commons

A popular landmark, this quaint retreat runs for more than three miles.

19. Mega-churches!

Photo: TF-URBAN/Flickr Commons

Think the Bible Belt is full of them? In Seoul, they’re everywhere, a staple of this nation’s American-influenced history.

20. The cherry blossoms are an amazing sight.

Photo: SAM NG/Flickr Commons

Japan isn’t the only nation with a whitish pink blanket of flowers.

21. Hanok, or traditional-style houses, are makin’ a comeback.

Photo: REPUBLIC OF KOREA/Flickr Commons

Seoul has witnessed a revival of these artisanal, energy-friendly homes that go back centuries. You could be living in one.

By Geoffrey Cain, GlobalPost

This article is syndicated from GlobalPost.

Interview with David DuChemin

Editor’s Note: David DuChemin is a world and humanitarian photographer whose works and books have empowered, motivated, and inspired countless photographers to pursue great art — and, more importantly, a great life.

This Christmas, I had the honour of meeting up with the legendary DuChemin to share some drinks and talk about the past year, the new year, and how to make 2015 count — and I got to do it in Venice, Italy.

EXCLUSIVE TO MATADOR NETWORK: Use the code MatadorSTW25 to get 25% off all digital products, including the book See The World — promotion starts Feb 22 and ends 11:59 PM (PST) on March 1.

Kate: You’re back in Venice. You said it was the 5th or 6th time you’ve been here. Why Venice?

David: I think I like Venice because by nature it’s so labyrinthine. Not just as a photographer — I mean, it’s beautiful. But it’s not just the possibility of getting lost, it’s the very necessity of getting lost, and I think for me, that’s part of what I like about travel. If I wanted to stay somewhere familiar, I’d stay home. Going to a place that lacks, or at least has a different kind of homogeny than home does, but also just forces you into a discovery and exploration because it’s so unfamiliar. So, for me, it’s a place where every day I can get lost. Along the way, there’s spectacular food, and there’s great wine, it’s a very sexy city, and the light here is truly beautiful. So all of that combined with the sound of the Italian language, it just puts me into a sensory overload.

Even on the 5th, 6th visit?

Even more on the 5th or 6th visit, because the first couple of visits I was so scared of getting lost. My version of getting lost was just going from the hotel to Piazza San Marco, and I felt like I was getting lost even though I was on these well-trodden paths. Now, into five or six visits, I feel a rare freedom, because I know that getting lost isn’t truly getting lost. There’s only so many roads in Venice, you can eventually come back to your place.

You mean because it’s an island.

Yeah, it’s, you know. There is so much possibility to get lost, and it’s like a kid in a department store, but you’re not going to get so lost that you’re not going to see mom again. And so I find here that the longer here I am, the more free I am. It’s a little like creativity. Creativity happens best within constraints. I think here, getting lost, there IS the constraint of the fact that we’re on this island. You’re not going get that lost. Within that, there’s a great freedom just to photograph and see what there is to see, knowing that at the end of the day, it’s not that hard to get to a central landmark.

So that’s why I love it. I don’t think most places in the world are that different from it. I mean, Paris is the same way. You can find your way back from the Eiffel Tower or the Champs Élysées or wherever your metro stop is. Then, within that, you have such a freedom to get lost. And that’s what I love about photography as well as just travelling is that ability to getting lost and exploring and discovering. I think getting lost is fundamentally human, but when you have a camera in your hand, it gives you an even further motivation to do that.

Kate Siobhan Mulligan captures a kiss; David DuChemin captures the moment.

Have you ever been legitimately lost?

I did have one experience in the Amazon when we were looking for something and —

You just went to the Amazon looking for something?

Well, no. We were in the Amazon to go build a school for street kids years ago.

Oh, you’re young in this story.

Very young. 18? Pre-life. This was my initiation. We were running through the jungle and we got kind of separated from the rest of our group, and there was a moment where I felt so deeply, truly lost. And when you’re in the jungle, it’s very different than if you’re in a city. The urban jungle is a metaphor, but it’s a really crappy metaphor, because the jungle has, like, you know, panthers.

In the end?

It was fun. The only part that wasn’t fun was that moment of realization of, “Oh my God, we have no idea were we are, and no one else knows where we are.” And yet, it remains one of the biggest, and in my own mind, one of the best stories because we were so lost. You know, I continue to come back to this idea of “What doesn’t kill you gives something to blog about.” It’s a good story, it’s a good adventure. And the only one that’s not a good story or a good adventure is the one from which you don’t return. You know, by then, you’re probably dead and don’t know it anyway. So go and get lost and see what there is to see.

Do people still warn you when you go on trips, like, “Oh, be safe?”

Oh, I get warned all the time! All the time. Except, I got “Be careful when you go to Haiti and Ethiopia” and all over. However, the only place I wasn’t warned about was Tuscany, which is where I had this accident in Pisa. I fell off the wall, I broke my feet, and I carry this Medjet evacuation policy, and I thought that I would probably get hauled out of the Congo with a bullet hole or something. No one ever said, “Watch out for Tuscany!” For me, it underlines that all of us, on some level, are a little risk-averse. What that risk is is different from person to person. But at the end of the day, it’s all so completely an illusion, this idea that you are safe or you are not safe. I’ve been in places that no one would call safe and yet have felt very, truly safe, and places that no one’s ever warned me about, and then I’m lying in an ambulance, being dragged to the hospital.

I had been writing on my blog, before this fall, about the illusion of safety and taking risks, and it seemed like fate making sure I wasn’t completely talking nonsense, that I really believed what I was saying. And more and more, I believe that you can never truly know, so it’s far better to experience this life, and to take risks, in general. Because you can’t avoid a risk. The only question is which risk can you live with? The people that will lovingly remind you that, “Oh, it’s so risky to go to Africa,” will not know that for me, it’s a greater risk to stay home. I’m okay going to Africa and getting into some trouble. I’m not okay living my life at home and having regrets the day I die and realize I could have done this, or I could have done that. That, to me, is the greater risk.

Did you take any risks in 2014?

Not in the way people would think. In 2014, I had another surgery on my feet — which I broke in that fall in Pisa — so I took almost the entire year off. I started 2014 in Lalibela, Ethiopia. I did one trip there. From there, I went to Kenya. I took my mom on safari for her first time and watched her mind just kind of explode. She was seven years old again. It was just amazing. And then my partner Cynthia and I went to Zanzibar and did scuba diving for a couple weeks.

But then I went home to this surgery and, you know, I guess in the bigger picture, the risk was taking time off to heal give in hopes of more mobility, and less pain. And so far it hasn’t. So far, it’s been very disappointing, and I took a whole year off to basically gain nothing. But it was a risk I chose to take.

I know you did a big road trip across Canada with your partner, Cynthia.

We did a cross-country trip across Canada on the Trans-Labrador Highway from Vancouver to Halifax and back. We drove 22,000 kilometres. We had my jeep, with a tent on top. But that trip never felt like a risk to me. That actually felt like me filling my calendar with something that I felt I knew would be okay in case my feet didn’t heal the way I expected, in case I needed to go back in for another surgery.

Any other risks from 2014?

Another risk was publishing two books that were close to my heart. You know, I made my living publishing photography books. And so, in 2014, we put out two books, but they were life books, not specifically about photography. Now, they tie in because I think photography is about life. I don’t believe life is about photography. Photography is, for me, a way for me to approach life, and so these books were another way for me, they enabled me to approach the things I deeply believe about life, and what it means to have a life well lived.

And those two books were A Beautiful Anarchy and How To Feed A Starving Artist?

That’s right.

And so, you’re of the mindset that everyone is, at heart, a creator to some extent?

Absolutely! I mean, whether you’re making a business, whether you’re making a family, whether you’re creatively solving the world’s problems through philanthropy. The arts have co-opted the word ‘creativity’, so we think about creative people only being, say, actors. The only person in the world you don’t want to be overly creative is your accountant. But I mean, even then, I say it tongue-in-cheek, because even problem solving is creativity. If we can approach life as an exercise in creativity and make even some of the more artistic endeavours more successful and apply those to daily life, I think we will live more deeply human. We will be more content and more satisfied.

Where you are right now, in Venice, sitting next to a window with quite a lovely view –

It is a lovely view, it’s not bad.

The gondoliers are cruising by at eye level, you can just stick your hand out and take funky exposures on your iPhone. Is this where you thought you’d be?

Most days, I wake up and can’t believe wherever I am. I don’t think I thought I’d make it this far. There is an incredible freedom in realizing the misconception that travel is that travel is so expensive, you know. It certainly can be, but it doesn’t have to be. You just make compromises. You know, we don’t own giant big-screen TVs, and at this point don’t own a home; I just have the jeep, in storage 250 days a year.

So we make our compromises in some areas, so we can afford to come and sit here. If you’re smart about how you spend your money, there’s no reason why you can’t spend Christmas in Venice instead of Christmas at home in Vancouver.

Absolutely. And speaking of Christmas, it’s also your birthday. Do you get reflective on your birthday, or do you just look ahead?

No, I’m profoundly introspective, and that corresponds to how much wine I’ve had.

But, no, the one thing I don’t do, I don’t look back with regret. I don’t look forward with longing so much as I am deeply grateful for my experiences. You know, a lot of people, the older they get, the less they talk about their birthdays. For me, I think it’s yet another reason to celebrate having made it this far and the possibilities and the things that we fill our years with.

But, one never knows. My birthday is Christmas Eve, January is hot on the heels of Christmas. It’s named after the Roman god Janus, who is represented as two faces in the sense that one face is looking into the past, and one face is looking into the future. But it seems to me that if one face is looking into the past, and one is looking into the future, there’s no moment at which you’re simply living in the present. So rather than be introspective in the sense of “What am I going to do?” or “regretting what I haven’t done,” I think the healthiest place to be at is to, if you’re going to look back at all, look back with gratitude. If you’re going to look forward at all, look back with hope and anticipation. But neither of those should take me out of the present and prevent me from just being here right now, right this minute.

“Right here right now” is pretty damn good.

And today is all we have. Yesterday’s gone.

So, looking ahead to 2015… Oh my God, 2015. Who knew? Where’s the flying cars already?

I want my rocket pack.

You have a book coming out in February, early 2015.

I have a couple books coming out next year.

A couple! The one I’m thinking of is See The World: Twenty Lessons. I liked that title. It’s of your travel photographs. I like lessons, not tips.

Twenty lessons… I don’t know, tips are useless. Tips are like, “Hey, did you try this?” The only thing more useless than a tip is a rule. You know, Twenty RULES For Great Travel Photography. I look at something like that, and it tells me what not to do. There’s a note in our kitchen that says, “Private: Don’t open this door.”

So lessons, then. Are these lessons that you’ve learned over the years?

Yeah, I think the only way you can teach is to be constantly learning. And I am, by nature, very introspective. The things I teach are not rules. They’re the things that I have learned. I like the word ‘principle’. I don’t like the word ‘rule’. Because a rule implies that if you break it, there’s some kind of consequence. This is art, for God’s sakes. There’s no consequence other than someone might say they hate your photograph. Is that the worst of it? Well they might say that and follow the so-called rules too.

I think I wrote this book as a reaction to a lot of things. I don’t know if it makes a difference in the way that I travel and make photographs. Because I don’t actually believe — and this is the funny thing about this book — it’s a book about travel photography, but I don’t know there’s such a thing as travel photography. Say you live in Paris, you go to a restaurant, take pictures of your food, is it travel photography? No, it’s food photography. It’s the same if you make portraits of someone on the street. Is it street photography, is it people photography? Well it is if you live there. But if you’ve travelled to get there, now it’s travel photography. So ultimately, there are no “tips” for making better “travel” photographs. Because what makes a great travel photograph where you are when you travel is the same thing that makes a great photograph when you’re at home.

So my “tips” for travel photography become lessons for stronger photographs, but they’re “travel” in the sense that they revolve more around experiencing a place. And then, how do you take the experience, or more generally speaking, your intention when you are doing so-called travel photography, is to imbue these two-dimensional photographs with that amazing experience that you’re having of a place that’s not your own. That’s what the book is about. And yes, I have a couple sidebars about a “hack”, about carry-on, how to get your camera on a plane without getting it lost, what kind of bags do you use, and tripods… But those are not among the twenty lessons. The twenty lessons are the important stuff. How you experience a place, how you see a place, what is my creative process when I’m in a new place, like Venice.

Getting lost, again.

Yeah, and every time I get lost again it’s in different weather, in different light, with different things going on, so it is kind of a new place and a new opportunity for photographs. So I think that’s the spirit of the book. And I’m not doing it to be iconoclastic, I just think it’s a better way of teaching.

It’s not, “here’s a checklist, do these ten things, and have a great travel photograph”. It’s an approach. It’s like a paradigm shift.

I think it’s a paradigm. I really do. Again, it’s not iconoclastic, it’s not twenty rules to break. It’s not, “Here’s how to be the black sheep of travel photography.” My stuff, you know, it’s not totally bizarre stuff. But it answers the question: “How do you make stronger travel photography? How do you imbue these images with an experience that is multi-sensory, that is so full of emotion, and discovery, and how do you make your photographs come a little closer to aligning with that?”

Especially without sacrificing the process of discovery and exploration and travel that you would have if you didn’t have a camera. Because I think sometimes our cameras get in the way. I think sometimes we’re so hell-bent on making great travel photographs that we don’t even experience the place.

I like that. A place is not a creature to hunt down with the one perfect photo.

But we make it so.

We’re predators.

We are! And I think that if you can instead come to a place and have a daily routine where you go get your cappuccino, you go to art galleries, you take some time to do your other work. You can take that time just to be a normal human being and not one of these cyborgs with all this technology swinging from your shoulders.

Frantically power walking from viewpoint to viewpoint…

And hunting for that trophy, you know?

To get the same photo that everyone else already got.

Exactly. And this is the problem with so-called travel photography. You get off the plane, and the first thing you want to do is you want to shoot the photograph that you’ve seen someone else take instead of getting off the beaten path. It’s hard! It’s not easy for anyone.

There’s a quote in there: “This is not a book about being a tourist with a camera.” Which I really enjoyed. So then who’s the book for?

It’s for people who are really willing to be travellers.

Which is not a tourist.

Well, it’s semantics, but I think a tourist goes to see something very specific. I think a traveller goes without a checklist to see what is there and be surprised by what they see — to embrace other cultures, rather than to come all this way and go to the friggin Hard Rock. I mean, every time I pass the Hard Rock in Venice, I think, “Do we really need this?”

But they will not veer from their preconceived notion of –

They’re terrified of getting off the beaten path. And we all experience that. I’m not saying that I don’t experience fear. The difference between the tourist and the traveller is the tourist gets nervous about that. Experiences the fear. It pushes them back onto the beaten path. The traveller, if we’re going to make this distinction, says: “I’m fearful of veering off, and that’s exactly the thing I need to do. I need to listen to my fear and allow it push me to new places and explore something that may not be in the Lonely Planet.”

God help you if it’s not in the Lonely Planet!

And I have a bookshelf full of Lonely Planets, but I stopped bringing them on trips! Because, especially as photographers, expectations get so much in your way. And the more Google Maps you look at, the more Google Image searches you do, and the more Lonely Planet books you read, as a photographer, the more those expectations tend to blind you because then you’re looking for what you’ve been told is there and should be there. You’re not looking for or seeing what actually is there. I mean, one is about discovery, and one is about ticking off something. If that’s all you want, you should stay at home, save the money and just look at pictures online.

A few of, actually I think none of the lessons necessarily are technical. It’s not about settings.

No! I mean. I spent this morning photographing with my iPhone. There are no settings on my iPhone. I have a couple apps that allow me to do some stuff. Some multiple exposures, some slow shutters, but still, at the end of the day, you’re just pressing a button. And yet, I’m making photographs that I love, that I will print, that I will probably sell, I know that I’ll put them in books. So no, I have no interest in telling people what f-stop to use.

“This is the one!”

It’s funny — we were in Oaxaca, Mexico for the Day of the Dead, and we were sitting with a group of photographers who were down there to teach, and there was another group sitting just across from us and they all, at the end of the meal, picked up their cameras and walked out. And the one woman said to the other as they walked out, “Now remember! Your F should be 5!”

And all of us looked at each other, like, “Your F should be 5? I don’t even know that I have an F-5, per se! I think I have an F/5.6, but your F should be 5!” So that’s become my mantra. It was actually going to be a much shorter book. If you want to make photographs, your F should be 5.

You need a t-shirt that says “Your F should be 5”. Now, the book includes some interviews with pretty cool people.

It does. At this point it’s got an interview with Art Wolfe, who’s a one-time hero of mine.

Why?

Well, Art’s been doing this for 40 years, he’s travelled the world, he’s seen some amazing things, but he also approaches his travel photography less as a documentarian or a reporter, and more as an artist. Not in a pretentious sense. But he’s quite willing to orchestrate his photographs to create the greatest sense of place that he can.

Whereas someone like Bob Krist, who also has had a very long career in travel photography, he’s been a National Geographic photographer, he’s a wonderful man; I love Bob. In fact, the last time I saw Bob was probably that same day we went to that restaurant and was told our F should be 5. He was on a separate trip in Oaxaca, Mexico. He’s a lovely guy and I like him. He certainly has an artist’s eye. His stuff has a greater sense of spontaneity to it. And then I’m hoping that by the time we publish the book that we can also get Nevada Wier. She’s promised to get me something, but the problem working with travel photographers is they’re always somewhere else, so she was in India for a while, now she’s in Cuba. So will I actually get an interview with Nevada, I’m not sure. Hopefully those three. And I love Nevada’s work as well. She’s a beautiful photographer, she’s a wonderful human being. So I think the three voices together, if I can get all three, they’re a complement to the places.

Whereas someone like me, who says, “Travel light, take as little gear as possible,” you know, Art Wolfe says, “Well, actually I’m quite happy with my gigantic Canon cameras and a bunch of big lenses.” Because they allow me to do the job. He’s comfortable with bigger gear. And I am embracing the mirrorless stuff much more quickly. It may be a function of being a little younger, being more adaptable. Or we just like the tools we like. You know, I like my Fujis and my Leica, and Art likes his Canon 1D X.

And there was a big chapter in here, in the sense of going lighter, and so what have you brought to Venice? I see a pile of cameras.

There is a pile of cameras. Only two of them are mine. I brought a Leica digital M and a film, and an M6, and a bag of black-and-white film. And I brought my little 18-mm Moment lens for my iPhone. And it just clicks on and I’m as happy with my Leica as I am with my iPhone.

I don’t know if Leica wants to hear that.

Well, probably not. But Leica’s got… you know, they’ve got their own thing going on. Ultimately, for me, it’s a photograph. I love the feel of my Leicas. They’re beautiful tools. They feel right to me. They get out of the way very quickly. But so do my Fujis. I just didn’t bring my Fujis. You can only carry so much. But for me, yes. I talk in the book about going lighter because I think as human beings, the lighter we travel, both materially, emotionally, the better we…

Get out of our own way.

Yeah, the more we get out of our own way. The less crap we have. I’ve travelled with so much gear, I’ve spent more time figuring out what lens I want to put on the camera than I do making photographs. Whereas, even on my Leica, I brought four lenses, all of them are primes, and I will probably shoot with my 21mm, and my 35mm 99% of the time, and I probably won’t even leave the house with my 50 and my 90. Because they’re not the focal lengths I like. But I like the constraints! I like having the 21mm lens for the morning and going, “Well, that’s what I have.”

You leave with it and work with what you have.

Yeah, and you don’t have to go, “Oh, which lens should I use?” Well, I guess I got one, so you use the one you have. And artists since the dawn of time have worked with what they have. More options don’t always net the best results.

No. A lot of people clamour that a new piece of technology is going to solve the problem of why they’re not happy with their pictures.

And let’s face it, high ISOs — they’ve opened up all kinds of new possibilities, you know, you can shoot in light that you might not otherwise have shot in. But the camera has changed very little since it was invented. It’s a box with a hole in it with a lens on the front, and some vector to make the image — a film or sensor. It’s not that complicated. The key to photography is recognizing lines, light, moments, and being able to go for it. Knowing your craft enough that you can create the art out of what life, the universe, gives you in these moments.

Which is kind of what the book’s about, in the long run.

In the end, it is, because I think the central premise of the book is you cannot photograph what you have not experienced. So anything that gets in the way of your experience prevents you from making better photographs. If that means carrying 50 pounds of gear around Venice and trying to choose between a 500mm lens and an 8mm fisheye and everything in between, you might spend more time paralyzed by your decision-making process than you will perceiving what’s going on. You won’t see all the changes in light or the moments that present themselves to you. And whether you have a camera or not, as a traveller, the point is to experience the place. And a Lonely Planet book can be the same thing. You spend so much time with your nose in a book that you’re missing what’s going on around you and the magic.

To an extent, it’s about vision. Vision being a keyword in your journey. From Within the Frame — a book which has a profound impact on my own life and journey — to your latest books, what’s made you so passionate for the aspect of it all? The vision, as opposed to technical visions. Because there’s those photography books as well.

There are. And without sounding pretentious, all those other books are garbage. That may be overstating the case. But the fact is, it all begins and ends with vision.

That’s been almost your mantra for a decade.

Sure, and my vision’s changed as a human being, and I think everyone’s does, but if you’re not photographing from that vision, from what you see, feel, experience, believe, sort of this — vision is kind of this hairball that encompasses a lot of things.

Visually, the missing thing for a lot of photographers. They have the gear, they have the settings.

It’s not hard. Anyone can learn to, I don’t know, I mean —

The F is 5!

Your F should be 5! Really though, the most iconic photographs are so rare. But without a sense of vision, without understanding lines and moments, how do you start this? Vision is what makes it art. Now, that’s a bigger argument: is photography art? I think it is. But it certainly can remain only craft. Anyone can take a technically perfect photograph, but is it art? I think what separates the technically perfect photograph from one that is evocative and that changes the way people think and see and that expresses the way a photographer feels about a certain thing, the thing that stands between the two is vision and the ability to explore it and express it in new and authentic ways. Changing ways, but new and authentic ways that are genuine to ourselves.

To wrap it up, and so we can return to drinking and looking out your lovely window onto the canals — it’s your birthday, it’s the end of the year, it’s the cusp of 2015. Matador has a photography program. We have students finishing up the course and they’re kind of on that cusp. That kind of point, like “jump or don’t.” They think signing up for the course was kind of a jump in itself. So then they finish it and it’s like “What’s next?” What advice would you give – God, how many times have you been asked that? – to someone on the cusp to make 2015 count in the realm of travel photography?

Well, figure out what you want, truly; and dream big. The fact is, we’re all writing a story. We’re all writing our own story, and you can either live a great story or you can read someone else’s great story. The best travel photography comes out of great travel. Go somewhere. Get off your ass and go. Forget the money. You know, I’ve shot beautiful photographs with the kit lens that came with my Fuji XE1. And I have images in my books from my iPhone!

You took some this morning even. I watched.

It probably will be in See The World. There will be some from this morning, and the rest of the trip. The gear is so irrelevant that’s it’s almost not worth talking about anymore. Henri Cartier-Bresson had one Leica and a 50-mm lens, probably a 35-mm lens for some of his stuff, and he made amazing stuff. They were beautiful, but they didn’t perform any better than even the most basic cameras we have. I mean, the optics were good, but people don’t look at Henri Cartier-Bresson’s stuff and go “My God, the lens that he used was amazing.” They look at it and appreciate it for his sense of timing, his understanding of moments, and because he was there and he saw. And to get back to your question, the best thing anyone can do is go see the world, experience it, be part of it, whether it’s your backyard in Vancouver or Toronto, New York or San Francisco, whatever, just see it. Be a part of it. Live.

Participate.

And bring your camera with you. That’s the best advice any photographer can get, is go be there and, of course, be good at your craft.

I did teach you last night how to use a camera on your iPhone.

You did. I don’t remember how.

Well, on that note, let’s drink.

Let’s.