Matador Network's Blog, page 2174

9 Montana backpacking trips

Photo by Thor Mark

THERE’S SOMETHING about waking up deep in the backcountry, having carried all of your gear in to camp near a quiet lake or alpine cirque with panoramic views of the surrounding peaks.

You can find dozens of places like this in the Big Sky State. These are nine of my favorites, the ones I consider the “ultra-classic” Montana experiences.

Montana has incredibly varied terrain, so I’ve included different regions as well as different levels of difficulty and distance.

East Rosebud Trail (aka The Beaten Path)

Location: Absaroka-Beartooth Wilderness

Arguably one of the best hiking experiences the Rocky Mountains has to offer in any state, the East Rosebud trail between Red Lodge and Cooke City has something for everyone, from wildlife that walks right up to you, to incredible fishing in lakes surrounded by craggy peaks, to trailside berries to munch on.

A strong hiker could make this 26 mile hike in one day, but if you want to get the most out of the trip, expect to spend three or more days out there. Though the trail gets its nickname from the mid-summer throngs of people, it’s far from crowded. Take any of dozens of side trails and you’ll find yourself in complete solitude.

Cottonwood Creek, Crazy Mountains

Location: Gallatin National Forest

Unlike many backpacking routes, this hike offers great mountain views right from the start. The trail follows Cottonwood Creek through prime moose habitat before climbing to excellent camping in the beautiful glacial tarn that embraces Cottonwood Lake.

Fishing is good at Cottonwood Lake, but another unnamed pond just below Cottonwood has water so clear you can watch the foot-long trout strike your line. Make sure you bring a stove to cook your catch as firewood is scarce.

Boulder Pass

Location: Glacier National Park

If you’re looking for a variety of interesting geological features Boulder Pass won’t disappoint. The beginning of the hike is marked by ample huckleberries along alpine lakes, lovely expanses of prairie and spectacular views of Harris Glacier. Waterfalls line the mountainsides as you make your way up to Boulder Pass.

Here, the geology gets more interesting. The terrain resembles a moonscape with lava pools and other reminders of the area’s volcanic past. The trail goes through Hole-in-the-Wall campground, said to be the most remote campsite in Glacier Park, and along narrow cliff-side trails Glacier is famous for.

Bechler River Trail

Location: Yellowstone National Park

Bechler River Trail has everything people come to Yellowstone Park for: wildlife, waterfalls, hot springs, picturesque river canyons, and great fishing. It is also one of the least visited areas of the park. That said, don’t leave getting your backcountry permits until the last second.

Camping is limited to established campsites and there aren’t many. It is also one of the least strenuous trails in the Rockies, being flat or a slight decline for most of its substantial length. Its flat grade turns boggy in some areas, making it almost impassable until early August.

Big Creek to Bear Creek Traverse

Location: Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness

The first several miles of the Big Creek Trail wander along the bottom of a forested canyon and belie the rugged nature of the Bitterroot range. Stepping out of the trees near Big Lake, however, will introduce you to the jagged peaks that characterize most of the hike, twice crossing the spine of the Bitterroot divide between Montana and Idaho.

The stunning views and complete solitude make the considerable trek in well worth it.

Moose Lake Trail

Location: Bob Marshall-Great Bear Wilderness

This trail, located just south of Glacier Park’s southern boundary, offers what’s best about the Bob Marshall Wilderness: options. Studying the map for a few minutes will reveal almost infinite possibilities from lake-to-lake angling excursions to alpine summit expeditions.

The trail to Moose Lake begins in dense woods but soon opens up into spectacular views north into Glacier and south/east into the Great Bear Wilderness. Next, drop into Moose Lake, or change your mind and climb to Tranquil Basin, descend into Elk Lake or hook up with the Twenty-five Mile Creek Trail.

From there, choose between heading for the Middle Fork of the Flathead River or climbing Vinegar Mountain. You get the idea.

Hyalite Creek to Hyalite Peak

Location: Gallatin National Forest

This trail is short but sweet, and considered by many to be the premier hike of the Bozeman area. In the first five miles to Hyalite Lake, the trail passes eleven seperate waterfalls cascading from Hyalite Basin’s red rock bowl. At Apex Falls, just below Hyalite Lake, the trail branches toward Apex Crest and Hyalite Peak.

Hyalite Peak may not be the highest peak in the Gallatins, but it may be the most beautiful, looking down on one of the most unique drainages in Montana.

Crystal Lake-West Peak

Location: Lewis and Clark National Forest

Starting at Crystal Lake, the trail leads in a long loop to the top of the Snowy Mountains, connecting with several side trails that lead to peak-bagging opportunities—notably Promontory and Grandview Peaks. At least two cave entrances along the trail will entice spelunkers to light up and explore.

Upper Potosi Hot Springs

Location: Tobacco Root Mountains

The Tobacco Root Mountains are often overlooked when it comes to backcountry adventures. Big mistake. The landscape is more arid than most in Montana, which makes for open, panoramic views. Hot springs on the trail bubble into primitive backcountry soaking pools. A just reward for the hike in. 

This article is sponsored by our friends at the State of Montana. It was originally published on March 30, 2009.

10 Québecois idioms French don't get

Photo: Corie Bidgood

1. Ça a pas d’allure! | It makes no sense whatsoever!

While a French person might think that this idiom has something to do with style or elegance (allure), the French Canadians are only trying to explain that whatever is happening is ridiculously crazy.

Example:

A: Martine decided that she would bike to work through ten feet of snow this morning.

B: Ben là, ça a pas d’allure son affaire!
2. Avoir des bibittes | To have personal troubles

There’s a simple explanation for this idiom not to be understood or used by the French: “bite,” a slang word for male genitalia, is hardly appropriate in a polite conversation.

I remember the day I heard my French Canadian colleague use this term for the very first time, I almost fell off my chair. Even though we were friends, she was my mother’s age and we had never discussed anybody’s intimate parts, so why on Earth did she decide to start, using that word? It took me a while to get it, but the relief (and the silent laughs) that ensued was priceless.

Example:

A. Morgane, est-ce que t’as des bibittes?

B. No, I’m good. No “bibittes” on my end. Thanks for asking.
3. C’est tiguidou! | That’s all good!

“Tiguidou” is simple, funny, and if you hang out with French Canadians long enough, you’ll hear it all the time. No need for a dictionary to decipher the adorable “tiguidou.”

However, if you think that “tiguidou” is proof enough you are bilingual in French Canadian, read the following and think again: “Tiguidou, l’affaire est ketchup.” The use of condiments has a lot of French slightly confused.

Example:

A: I’ll be there tomorrow, at 09:00pm to pick you up.

B: Tiguidou.

A: I’ve booked a table, so don’t be late

B: L’affaire est ketchup!


More like this 10 idioms only the French understand


4. Être en mosus | To be furious

French Canadians used to be a fiercely Catholic bunch. Things have changed, but the swear words they use are just riddled with deformed Church lingo. “Mosus” (or “mausus”) is a variation (pretty far-fetched) of “maudit,” meaning cursed, and it’s not that obvious to anyone, even the French, that it implies somebody’s in a bad mood.

Example:

A: Have you talked to Simon lately? I have not heard from him in a while.

B: No, Y’est en mosus, he does not want to talk to me.
5. Attache ta tuque! | Get ready!

Nothing gets more French Canadian than saying “put on your toque” to express anticipation. “Tuque” is a word unknown to the French (the joy of temperate weather), but it’s an indispensable accessory for the frozen Quebecois.

Example:

I’m going to push that sled down the hill, attache ta tuque!

6. Avoir de l’eau dans la cave | Your pants are too short.

In French Canada, if you “have water in the cellar,” you’re not trying to alarm anyone about a possible flooding problem, but you probably grew a few inches, or hemmed your pants while drunk. In France, we say that we’re “going to harvest some mussels” (how charming!). Wherever you live, get yourself a new pair of jeans and fire the seamstress.

Example:

I should wear my black pants for my interview tomorrow. They’re classy.

Classy like you have some eau dans la cave.
7. Pantoute | Not at all

When the French say “pas du tout,” French Canadians go “pantoute.” It’s shorter; it’s widely used, but, to me, it still sounds like we’re talking about slippers (“pantoufle”).

Example:

A: Are you en mosus?

B: Pantoute! Everything’s fine!


More like this 8 French idioms every traveler should know


8. Malcommode | To be rude

If someone’s proving to be unpleasant, they are “malcommode.” Now, let’s just be happy that they are not “un esti d’cave” (a major asshole).

Example:

A: Hello!

B: (no answer)

A: She is ben malcommode!
9. J’suis tanné | I’m fed up

In France, “tanner” has one, and only one, meaning: to turn a hide into leather. In French Canada, however, “tanner” someone or to be “tanné” means you’ve had enough.

Example:

A: I feel like I’ll never be able to make myself clear in Quebec.

B: T’es tanné, hein? No worries, with a bit of practice, “l’affaire est ketchup.”

A: Oh Lord…
10. J’aime frencher mon chum! | I like kissing my boyfriend!

French Canadians are brave people. They are surrounded by English speakers, and yet they manage to keep their language and their traditions alive. Nonetheless, despite all their efforts, sometimes, English leaks in, and it’s pretty funny to witness.

“Frencher” is a half-French, half-English word that’s meaning is rather obvious for those who speak English. The French should know all about it (they invented the stuff after all), but we just don’t use this funny hybrid of a verb. “Chum” or “blonde” are very common ways to talk about your better half. Even if your girlfriend is a red head, just go call her “blonde” and try to blend in.

Example:

A: Where is your son?

B: He frenche sa blonde behind the house. He thinks I can’t see them.

A: Y’est niaiseux! (silly boy!)

13 memories: growing up in Michigan

Photo: lindsay decker

1. Canada meant alcohol

Whether you crossed from Detroit to Windsor or through Sault St. Marie up north, your 19-year-old self couldn’t believe how easy it could be to just walk into a party store and come out with beer.

2. Bringing up the idea of buying a Volvo or a Mazda once

Then you learned. Oh, the frustration when you tried to explain to your Detroit born-and-raised dad how most of the parts in his Ford were actually made overseas and he just wouldn’t listen to logic. You had to hear about ‘Built Ford Tough’ and all that jazz until he was practically blue in the face. You still to this day feel slightly guilty every time you eye a Volkswagon.

3. The indisputable awesomeness of moon boots

And, let’s not forget, your Yooper mom probably made you stick your feet into bread bags first before you could slip into those little gems when she sent you out to shovel the ten feet of overnight snow. Am I right?

More like this 17 reasons no one is as hardcore as us Michiganders when it comes to winter


4. Snow day superstition rituals

You had your very own snow-day superstitions and you weren’t afraid to use them! You might have thrown ice cubes out the window before bed. Wore a colored sock on your left foot but not your right. Did your special snow dance. Put a spoon under your pillow.

Ahhh, the waiting of ten grueling minutes while the WZZM 13 announcer listed off, in alphabetical order, the 300 schools in the region closed that day (bastards on the lakeshore in Holland always seemed to get out of school, stupid lake effect!) — and the relief when your school was finally called. Back to bed, feeling super empowered that your night-before tricks worked their magic, then up again at noon to go build tunneled snow forts or make grandiose plans to sled off the roof.

On your unlucky days you somehow got stuck shoveling the driveway. All. Day. Long.

5. Ah, so many Michigan sports moments…

Whether you remember the Piston’s Vinnie Johnson sinking that 18-foot jumper with 0.7 seconds left in the 1990 NBA Championship Final, or you recall Barry Sanders inspiring actual hope in you for the Lions (it was finally going to be their year, you just KNEW it!), or when your heart broke at the news of Vladimir Konstantinov’s 1997 accident that left him paralyzed just six days after he helped the Red Wings take the Stanley Cup, it’s guaranteed that every Michigander has some sports memory that they carry with them.

6. Fitting a Halloween costume over a snowmobile suit

Unless you wanted to hit up the lame indoor trick-or-treating at the local Grace Bible Church, you had to somehow coordinate gloves, a winter hat, a scarf, and snow boots into the creative vision, whether you were a princess or a pirate. Because no matter how beautiful the autumn had been, come Halloween night, freezing rain or snow always seemed to fall like clockwork.

7. Taking back pop cans for money

Notice they certainly weren’t called ‘soda’ cans — this is Michigan we are talking about. Whether you needed money to put a few bucks of gas in your car or wanted to hit Boyne or Crystal on Saturday, all you had to do was go around and collect all the cans lying around in the house/garage/car and turn them in for their 10-cent deposit. How simple money-making was for you back then! And remember how out-of-this-world modern it seemed when Meijer and Kroger’s first got the automated machines to stick your pop cans into?

8. Vacations to Cedar Point or Mackinaw Island

Your family or a friend’s family, who you tagged along with, went to one of those two places practically every single summer. Who needed exotic, expensive vacations when there was endless Rocky Road fudge and acres of rollercoasters within such close reach?

9. Raking a gigantic pile of crunchy, rainbow-colored leaves and jumping into them

Your parents pulled this one off well. They took you to Quality Farm and Fleet and let you pick out the adorable kid-sized rake that looked like it was made for you. They did not tell you that you would voluntarily be putting in hours of child-labor yard work; they told you it would be fun. And it was. That shit never got old. And when you finally went inside, there was nothing better than Robinette’s sugar-coated cider donuts washed down with apple cider.

More like this 10 signs you were born and raised in Michigan


10. Eating icicles

Whether you lived in Heritage Hill in G.R. or an old farmhouse in Kalkaska, all you had to do was open the window, crack one off the old overhang, and you basically had a free popsicle any time you wanted. Kid heaven.

11. Going ‘Up North’ to the cottage

Whether the cottage was a crumbling shit shack in Marquette or a 12-bedroom mansion in T.C., whether it was yours, your cousin’s, or your friend’s cousin’s, there was always a place “Up North” to head to for tubing, euchre playing, shooting potato guns, and eating way too many s’mores by the campfire at night. Tradition dictated that there should be a stop somewhere on the road trip up there for a Blue Moon or Superman ice cream cone.

12. Opening day of deer season

Kinda hoping dad would come home with a 12 point from Alpena so he wouldn’t be bitching and sulking until next year’s season, but kinda hoping he wouldn’t. The deer parts in the freezer were slightly fascinating but mostly creepy, and no matter what they said, venison did not taste the same as hamburger.

13. Racing down sand dunes

No matter that you inevitably fell and somersaulted out of control most of the way down, filling your every orifice with sand and not being able to get it all out for days, running down the gorgeous Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes with Lake Michigan stretching for miles ahead of you was like a childhood rite of passage.

What not to do in Chile

Photo: Vlebanov

1. Don’t… visit Torres del Paine during high season.

December to March in this vast national park in southern Chile is not the time to find quiet solitude — especially on the trekker-happy “W” circuit.

The park fills up with people, the concessioned campsites turn into cities, and the “rustic” ones turn into villages.

Do… go during shoulder season.

Or better yet, visit another Patagonia park, such as Queulat, home to bursting fuchsia plants, the elusive huemúl (a stocky, endangered deer that appears on Chile’s coat of arms), and a glacier-spawned waterfall.

Slightly farther north is the practically unvisited Tolhuaca National Park, full of monkey-puzzle trees and red-crested woodpeckers the length of your forearm.

2. Don’t… take the Navimag to the Laguna San Rafael glacier.

This boat ride is pricey, uncomfortable, and makes you feel like you’re on a floating class trip, complete with skits and cafeteria-style eating.

You’ll spend way too much money to sleep in a room with 15 other travelers, beside a ferry engine vibrating at the exact frequency that precipitates insanity, all to spend an hour hundreds of yards away from the glacier in a cramped Zodiac with a bunch of whiskey-glomming Chileans.

Do… hike to the El Morado Glacier.

This one is much more accessible, your starting point being Cajón de Maipo (near Santiago).

Another option is a day trip from Puerto Natales to the Serrano and Balmaceda Glaciers via a four-hour boat trip past sea lions and cormorant colonies. Yes, you’ll get to see both ice blocks, plus take a short forest hike.

Alternatively (and don’t tell any Chileans I said this), go to Argentina for the Perito Moreno Glacier, one of the world’s only advancing glaciers.

3. Don’t… go to Concha y Toro winery or take the Tren del Vino (Wine Train).

There’s great wine and great wine tourism in Chile, but CyT is considered a “wine for dummies” pick, and the train could be fairly described as the “wine for those very eager to part with large sums of money” option.

Do… your own wine tour solo in the Casablanca, Colchagua, or nearby valleys.

This is doable with a little research. Pick up Margaret Snook’s book Vinos para Todos, whip out your Spanish-English dictionary, and run your own tasting based on these and regular-folk recommendations for top Chilean wines — which, incidentally, should only run between $2 and $10.

You could also take a tour with a local independent wine expert like Karen Gilchrist from winetravelchile.com. For the luxury wine-tourist set, Liz Caskey is recommended.

4. Don’t… take the Cerro San Cristobal funicular.

The top of Santiago’s second-tallest hill is a popular photo spot.

But take the funicular and you’ll be missing one of the best parts: fabulous views of the mountains on the way up and down.

Do… hike up on the Zorro Vidal path.

This trail takes about 40 minutes at a reasonable pace and is accessible from the Bellavista (Pio Nono) entrance. Or rent a bike on the Pedro de Valdivia side and pedal up (30-40 minutes).

This way, you earn your syrupy, rich mote con huesillo (a drink made with hyper-sweetened peach punch, reconstituted dehydrated peaches, and wheat kernels) from the vendors at the top.

Cerro San Cristobal mini-do: the Japanese Garden

Cerro San Cristobal mini-don’t: the zoo. Animal lovers will cringe.

5. Don’t… assume LAN Chile is your only option.

The country’s national air carrier is NOT the last word when it comes to domestic travel.

Do… take the bus.

Overnight buses can be downright luxurious.

Otherwise, the train is a slow but scenic option as far south as Temuco, and Sky Airlines can often beat all of the aforementioned’s prices.

The usual warning to buy in advance applies, including on buses during the summer, high season, and long weekends.

6. Don’t… loiter downtown or near Plaza Italia after an important soccer match.

Especially if Universidad de Chile (La U) or Colo Colo are playing.

Chilean post-game hooliganism has taken hold, and a bus or metro trip with these screaming, chanting fans is not where you want to be.

Do… watch a game at an out-of-the-way bar or restaurant.

Or simply take the 91 minutes when the game is on as an excuse to enjoy the streets nearly completely solo, and then get back inside before the melee starts.

Word to the wise…those police water cannons? They can (and do) also spew tear gas into rowdy crowds.

7. Don’t… look for Chilean fashion in the fancy malls.

That would be Alto Las Condes or Parque Arauco. Chilean-made department store items are even pricier than what you’d buy at home.

Do… hit up Calle Bandera to buy used clothing.

Or, better yet, head for nearby Patronato, a zany warren of blasting music and inexpensive clothes, manufactured in Chile (or China) for a fraction of the price (and some say quality) of what you’ll find in big-name stores like Falabella or Paris.

Keep your wallet close, and stop for a falafel or some Korean food while you’re there.

8. Don’t… eat salmon at the Mercado Central.

Actually, don’t eat it anywhere in the country.

Nearly all salmon in Chile is farmed, contains antibiotics and dyes banned in many countries, and — if you know your salmon — is nearly flavorless.

Do… order anything else at the central market

Head into the chaos, choose your spot, and try one of the other grilled fish dishes, or opt for paila marina, a brothy soup of random sea creatures including several kinds of bivalves, the red sea-squirt, and — if you’re lucky — a giant barnacle.

Less adventurous stomachs might prefer pastel de jaiba, an impossibly thick cheesy crab bisque.

9. Don’t… expect to understand a word anyone says.

Even if you studied Spanish in high school, or college, or high school and college plus a stint traveling around Central America ten years ago, you simply will NOT understand what the average Chilean is saying.

They talk fast, swallow their s’s and wash them down with about half their d’s, and use an impenetrable slang and a special conjugation form that only exists in this sliver of South America.

Do… try anyway.

A lot of visitors to Chile don’t speak any Spanish at all, so if you make an effort, people will appreciate it.

If you throw in a “¿cachai?” (“get it?” in local slang) or two, people will grin and nod and applaud your Castellano, as locals call the language.

10. Don’t… expect Santiago to be Buenos Aires.

The two capital cities are just a couple mountain ranges apart, but Buenos Aires is South America’s NYC, something Santiago could never approximate — despite the fact that it calls one of its upscale neighborhoods “Sanhattan.”

Do… see Santiago for what it is, past and present.

Years of history, miles and mountains of separation, and waves of different settlers have contributed to making Santiago the way it is.

The city tends to be under-appreciated, under-touristed, and generally underrated. Get to know Santiago on her own terms and learn something the travel industrial complex can’t (or won’t) tell.

This article was originally published on November 16th, 2009

Guide to Arizona's best small towns

PRESCOTT, Yavapai County

Photo: bethany.Hatch

The small city of Prescott can feel a world away from the desert climate of Arizona’s south. In fact, Prescott can feel a world away from the rest of the Southwest.

The town was pushed into creation by Congress and Abraham Lincoln in 1864 as the territorial capital of Arizona, a move to secure the region’s natural resources for the Union during the Civil War. As result of this Yankee influence, Prescott’s architecture and grass-covered front yards had more in common with the Victorian vibe of the wider U.S. at the time than the otherwise unique aesthetics of the Southwest. While a massive fire in 1900 pressed the reset button, both culturally and architecturally, on the mountain town, much of the older flavor remains.

Whiskey Row is the contemporary center of Prescott’s nightlife, as it was 100 years ago, but this part of the state is best appreciated outdoors. Prescott’s 250 miles of mountain biking trails are nothing short of phenomenal (get your hike and ride maps here), as are hiking options like Thumb Butte and the Granite Mountain Trail. If you’re short on gear, Prescott has plenty of outfitters to help fill out whatever’s missing in your day bag.

PATAGONIA, Santa Cruz County

Photo: Ken Bosma

Patagonia is getting quite famous for being practically unknown. The town sits quietly 20 miles north of Mexico between two districts of the expansive Coronado National Forest, shaded by both the Santa Rita and Patagonia Mountains. With an elevation of just over 4,000 feet, its cooler climate attracts grassland bird watchers.

For most, though, the real draw to Patagonia is the wine. In the 1970s, a soil scientist by the name of Dr. Gordon Dutt discovered that the red earth around town was practically a match for that of Côte-d’Or in Burgundy, France. In the time since, close to a dozen vineyards have opened, and the area has been granted a federal designation as a unique wine-producing region.

Once you’ve gotten a little color in your cheeks, there are the nearby ghost towns of Harshaw, Duquesne, and Lochiel. The Stage Stop Inn in Patagonia gets high marks from travelers for value and decor.

BISBEE, Cochise County

Photo: ammanteufel

Fifteen miles north of the Mexican border, creeping up the base of the red-clay-colored Mule Mountains, sits the former mining town of Bisbee. At the turn of the 20th century, the local Copper Queen Mine was one of the world’s most productive, churning out gold, copper, zinc, and lead. The population of well-paid miners and their somewhat lascivious hobbies helped earn Bisbee the informal title of “liveliest spot between El Paso and San Francisco.” But as mines boom they must also bust, and by the end of the 1970s things had quieted down.

But that was far from the end of the story for Bisbee. Since the miners moved out, artists have moved in, and today this small town — a good hour-and-a-half drive from the nearest city — is a creative enclave with an eccentric old-hippie spice. There’s a serious appreciation for the kitsch, and at times the town can feel like a John Waters fantasy of the Old West. Still, Main Street’s brick structures look as enduring as the Pyramids and as tough as the miners who once frequented them.

Bisbee’s best attractions are the tours of the mine and town. The Old Bisbee Ghost Tour will take you on a ghost hunt at the famous Copper Queen Hotel, or guide you on a haunted pub crawl. If you’re after a funky place to stay with some history — albeit a little less history than the hotels in town — look no further than the Shady Dell. The Dell is a stylized trailer park of ten vintage campers dating back to the late 1940s. Each has a unique theme and can be rented for between $90 and $150 per night.

JEROME, Yavapai County

Photo: Kenneth Hagemeyer

About 100 miles due north of Phoenix, and a quick 50-minute drive from Prescott, the ghost town of Jerome shares many of the eccentric-artist charms and Old West history of Bisbee, while benefiting from the much cooler climate of Arizona’s north. It looks exactly as you might have expected it to 100 years ago, but the best views come when you put your back to the town. From its perch in the Black Hills of Prescott National Forest, Jerome’s sweeping panoramas of red mountains splotched in green desert shrubbery conjure thoughts of what Mars might look like after a good rain.

From their boom-to-bust mining histories, prevalence of artists, and past reputations as cities of ill repute, Jerome and Bisbee can’t escape constant comparison. When it comes to activities in Jerome, you would be well served, as you would in Bisbee, by a tour of haunted mines and hotels.

Ghosts are inseparably woven into Jerome’s identity; a favorite for a bite to eat is the Haunted Hamburger on Clark Street. The restaurant earned its name after a number of strange events involving disappearing tools and slamming doors occurred during the building’s renovation.

ARCOSANTI, Yavapai County

Photo: Chris Ohlinger

Photo: Cody

Arcosanti describes itself as an “urban laboratory” — a living experiment in founder Paolo Soleri’s theory of “arcology” (a combination of architecture and ecology). Established in the 1970s, the aim of arcology is to explore alternative architecture in the pursuit of environmental responsibility and alternatives to urban sprawl. If you’re looking for uniquely Arizona, this is it.

While Soleri’s ideals of living in harmony with the environment are as relevant as ever, the look of Arcosanti is a bit dated, something like a Jetsons vision of the future. But don’t be deterred — the high-domed apses and massive circular windows of the Sky Suite are remarkable sites that warrant the 70-mile drive north of Phoenix.

Arcosanti holds annual workshops that teach the founding concepts of the community. Every year the town hosts about 35,000 tourists who stop to stay the night, tour the buildings, ponder the concepts of arcology, and purchase the famous bronze and ceramic Arcosanti wind bells that are the economic lifeblood of the community.

WILLIAMS, Coconino County

Photo: Loco Steve

Historic Route 66 once embodied the American spirit of risk, adventure, and perseverance. The 2,500-mile road was the nerve system of the West, carrying survivors of the Dust Bowl to greener pastures and supporting the communities that sat along its edges. The town of Williams, situated on what is now Interstate 40, about a half hour west of Flagstaff, is a living ode to both that storied road and the cultural high-water mark that was the1950s.

Today, Williams is still a town of neon signs, soda fountains, and restaurants that serve the American staples of cow and potatoes in all their various glories. This is a wonderful place to snap a few photos of Americana relics or buy some cowboy leather.

Williams is also the pickup point for the Grand Canyon Railway. The train ride takes about two hours and drops you off on the canyon’s South Rim. There are a number of class options, including an observation dome and the budget-minded Pullman Class.

LAKE HAVASU CITY, Mohave County

Photo: Iris Donovan

If Arcosanti is an exercise in living with the environment, Lake Havasu City is an engineering victory over Mother Nature. The town’s desert climate is unmistakably arid, yet it earns its dot on the map for its tremendous water sports, made possible by the Parker Dam on the Colorado River, which creates the massive namesake reservoir. In what other landlocked desert town can you find beaches, boating, and fishing?

Make no mistake — Lake Havasu City was created for your good times. Every year, thousands of nubile bodies descend on the lake for one of the rowdiest Spring Break events north of the border. During any other week of the year, this is a great place to bring the family, get out on the water, and of course see the meticulous reconstruction of the London Bridge (featuring original masonry that was purchased, tagged, and shipped to town following the bridge’s renovation in the 1960s).

And you thought you had to leave Arizona to see the world?

This post is proudly produced in partnership with the Arizona Office of Tourism. Visit their site and start planning your Arizona adventure today.

20 epic treehouses around the world

Humans have always felt at home in the trees. It is, after all, where we came from a long, long time ago. But even in the modern age, trees play a very important role in our lives. People who live near trees are known to have better physical and mental health, and the presence of trees is important for preventing climate change.

Naturally, as we learn more about our relationship to trees and our planet, we’re realizing we want to spend more time in and around them. More and more people are building creative treehouses for use as hotels, restaurants, teahouses, or occasionally as a means of communicating with extraterrestrials (seriously! — see the Beach Rock Treehouse below). Here are some of the coolest treehouses in the world.

1. TreeHouse Point

Just outside Seattle in Issaquah, Washington, is the treehouse B&B named TreeHouse Point. The place has six treehouse rooms available.

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2. Silky Oaks Lodge

Silky Oaks Lodge is a luxury resort in the jungle around Queensland, Australia’s Mossman Gorge River. It features a treetop restaurant overlooking the river.

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3. Yellow Treehouse Restaurant

The Yellow Treehouse Restaurant near Auckland, New Zealand, is built around a 40-meter-tall redwood tree. It doesn’t serve as a regular restaurant — it’s only open for special events.

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4. Finca Bellavista

Finca Bellavista is a sustainable treehouse community in Costa Rica’s rainforest canopies. You can purchase a parcel to build your own treehouse on, or just crash there for a few nights. They let you zipline between treehouses. It’s quite possibly the coolest place on earth.

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5. Treehotel

The second-to-none Treehotel in Harads, Sweden, has six absolutely incredible treehouse rooms — from the bizarre, alien-themed UFO room to the almost-invisible Mirrorcube, it takes your weirdest ideas about treehouses and runs with them.

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6. Nanshan Treehouse Resort

On the island of Hainan in the South China Sea, the Nanshan Treehouse Resort features three large treehouses that can house up to 20 people. The resort’s also near a Buddhist “theme park,” with a number of pagodas and temples.

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7. Teahouse Tetsu

The Teahouse Tetsu is exactly what it sounds like: a teahouse in a tree. It was designed by architect Terunobu Fujimori and sits among the cherry blossoms in Hokuto City, Japan.

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8. Soneva Kiri Treepod

The Soneva Kiri Resort on Koh Kood, Thailand, has a one-of-a-kind feature: “treepod” dining. Basically, you enter the pod on the jungle floor, and then it’s hoisted into the canopy, where you’re served a meal by a waiter on a zipline.

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9. Nothofagus Hotel

The Nothofagus Hotel is among the treetops of the Huilo Huilo Biological Reserve in Chilean Patagonia.

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10. Inhabit Treehouse

The Inhabit Treehouse was created by designer Antony Gibbon. It can be accessed through a trapdoor underneath the house. Unfortunately, this design as of yet only exists on the drawing board, but you can change that.

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11. Muskoka Treehouse

Designer Lukasz Kos’s treehouse in Lake Muskoka, Ontario, is named the 4Treehouse. It was designed to minimize its impact on the surrounding trees. There are three levels to this treehouse, which looks like a Japanese lantern when lit up at night.

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12. The Minister’s Treehouse

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The Minister’s Treehouse in Crossville, Tennessee, is possibly the world’s largest treehouse (it hasn’t been verified yet), standing 97 feet tall with over 80 rooms. Minister Horace Burgess started building it in 1993 and hasn’t stopped (though it’s been temporarily closed by the county fire marshal). It also serves as a church. The house is built around a massive oak with six other oaks used for support.

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13. Hapuku Lodge and Treehouses

Hapuku Lodge is a luxury resort in Kaikoura, New Zealand, featuring a number of 30-foot-tall treehouses that overlook the mountains and the coast. The treehouses are big enough for couples or for families.

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14. Costa Rican Airbnb

This treehouse with a wraparound balcony is in Alajuela, Costa Rica, and is adjacent to hot springs. It’s $85 a night. It’s a short drive from the treehouse to Costa Rica’s famous Volcano Arenal.

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15. The Burning Man Steampunk Treehouse

Burning Man has given the world a lot of awesome things, but it tends to burn those things at the end of the festival. Mercifully, the awesome Steampunk Treehouse, created by Sean Orlando and Kinetic Steam Works for the 2007 festival, was relocated to the Dogfish Head Brewery in Milton, Delaware, where it’ll stay permanently.

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16. Three Story Treehouse

The Three Story Treehouse is an attraction in British Columbia’s Enchanted Forest Theme Park. It includes fairy-tale characters and nature walks, but the highlight of the park is clearly the treehouse.

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17. Alessandria Treehouse

Another beautiful treehouse available on Airbnb. This one, in Alessandria, Italy, offers free wifi and access to a 19th-century wine cellar.

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18. Beach Rock Treehouse

This bizarre treehouse in Beach Rock Village in Okinawa, Japan, was built by Kobayashi Takashi with the intention of communicating with beings from outer space.

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19. Free Spirit Spheres

Free Spirit Spheres are available for rent in Qualicum Beach, British Columbia. Suspended from webs of rope, the spherical hotel rooms are accessible through spiral staircases and small suspension bridges.

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20. Monbazillac

In Aquitaine, France, the Chateaux dans les Arbres features the Monbazillac Treehouse, a treehouse you can rent on Airbnb. There’s a wraparound terrace with a Jacuzzi.

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The 4 stages of culture shock

Photo: EIMarto

CULTURE SHOCK. You’re lost, standing baffled in new surroundings with a heavy pack on your shoulders, unable to tell left from right, up from down, phone booths from trash cans or rip-off artists from friends.

But this image of sudden shock isn’t quite accurate.

In reality, culture shock is a much more nuanced phenomenon that can take months to develop and overcome. Culture shock will flip your emotions topsy-turvy. It will affect you in completely unexpected ways.

More than simply being surprised at unfamiliar social norms, weird new food or foreign modes of conversation, culture shock will impact you long after you become familiar and comfortable with the day-to-day customs of a new culture.

Culture shock tends to move through four different phases: wonder, frustration, depression and acceptance.

Of course, like all things that happen in our complicated little brains, it’s never really that simple or easy. Each of these stages take time to run their course, and how deeply one affects you is never set in stone. Even the order of these 4 stages can be unpredictable.

Jet-lag and wonder

The first stage of culture shock is often overwhelmingly positive and far from bewildering. This is often called the “honeymoon phase” – when you’re so fascinated with the language, the people, and the food that the trip seems like the greatest thing you’ve ever done. You’re having an adventure!

On shorter trips this honeymoon period can be a huge boon, as the rush of foreign stimulation makes a vacation all the better, and having a set return date can ward off the less enjoyable aspects of culture shock.

Anyone who’s visited another continent has felt this rush of excitement the minute they got off the plane, and will no doubt never forget it.

Guidebooks about Southeast Asia play on this fairly often, inevitably starting with a vivid description of Bangkok – the overwhelming smell of fish sauce, the muggy tropical air, the traffic straight out of hell – all things that contribute to the sense of having touched down on another planet.

Settling in…to frustration?!

This is a difficult stage of culture shock, familiar to anyone who has lived abroad or traveled for a long time. You don’t understand gestures, you get laughed at, and you horribly offend a little old lady without knowing why.

The usual response is anger. I often tell people that culture shock is walking out the door, being greeted by a neighbor, and wanting nothing more than to shout obscenities at them.

It is a visceral reaction that permeates every part of the experience, from misunderstanding shopkeepers, to losing your keys or missing the bus. Frustration comes and goes, disillusion comes on like a monsoon and the pangs of homesickness can become debilitating.

The first time I went to Asia I got it bad. After a month and a half of backpacking and two months teaching in Saigon, I was ready to go home.

The city began to weigh on me in ways I couldn’t have forseen. Struggling against the smog and noise felt like trying to keep my head above water while wearing lead boots. The food, the people, the language – nothing was exotic anymore. I just wanted a hamburger.

Depression: feeling stuck

Ah, the big one. We’ve all felt a little down before, but rarely when we’re so far from home.

Depression on the road is a feeling of hopelessness and longing, like nothing will ever be okay again until you hop on that plane home.

The worst part about this brand of moping is that it’s difficult to see the link to culture shock – the feeling can sometimes seems disconnected from travel, and often even homesickness. It can take the form of simple, implacable malaise.

It’s hard to be so far away, especially if you’re all by yourself. Frustration can bring on homesickness, but depression adds the dimension of feeling like you just have to get out.

Acceptance: home away from home

After weeks and months of blindly struggling through a thousand different emotional states every hour, acceptance finally arrives like a warm bath at the end of a hard day.

Acceptance does not necessarily entail total understanding – it’s nearly impossible to ever claim complete understanding of another culture – but instead involves the realization that you don’t have to “get” it all. You find what makes you happy and content in your new surroundings.

For me, this realization happened a few months after I moved to Saigon a second time. I began to find my place in the motorbike horns, cigarette smoke, and other expats floating through the fray. When Vietnamese started sounding more like a language than a fax tone and I ceased getting hopelessly lost on the potholed roads, the whole experience began to feel like a coherent whole instead of a random collection of aimless madness.

And there lies the crux of culture shock: the bad stuff, like feeling lost, hopeless, and out of place, will run its course no matter what happens.

Going the distance

Even though you can’t avoid culture shock entirely, there are things you can do to make it easier on yourself.

The first step, of course, is to recognize that what you’re going through is culture shock. If you can come to terms with wild mood swings and sad times, and recognize they’re part of the inevitable process, it’s a lot easier to convince yourself that the bad feelings will pass. And they will.

Secondly, it’s crucial to learn the language as you go. Culture shock, at its simplest, is an inability to integrate, and the biggest barrier to that is generally language. The more able a traveler is to laugh, cry, and seek solace with the locals, the easier it is to deal with ups and downs.

Though it can be one of the toughest parts of traveling, culture shock is just as integral to the experience as food, people, and scenery. By recognizing it for what it is and doing your best to cope, you can easily prevent culture shock from ruining an otherwise fantastic journey.

This article was originally published on November 20th, 2007.

From homeless to big wave champion

From life as an eight-year-old boy living on the streets of Mexico city to becoming one of the most renowned big wave surfers in the Pacific, Coco Nogales is a living example of the power of pure determination and the refusal to let the past dictate the future. Today, he is inspiring the next generation of Mexican surfers, leading by example, and through his charity project AHAVA making a tangible difference to the lives of those around him.

As night fell on the streets of Mexico City, eight-year-old Carlos (Coco) Nogales would search for shelter from the lurking shadows and passing strangers.

Underneath the rusty frame of an old car left on a cobblestone street, in the back of a truck he’d cleaned earlier on in the day, or in the corner of a dark alleyway. Often, he was cold to the core of his shivering frame, starving and fearing for his life. But whatever horrors the streets held, they could be no worse than those he faced at home. This sort of existence, he knew, was not about comfort. It simply came down to survival.

“It was very tough,” Coco says, as he takes a moment to reflect. His eyes are downcast, and he pauses before he speaks again. “So many nights you didn’t have a place to sleep, so many nights you didn’t have a thing to eat. It was kind of scary, you know.”

Almost three decades on, the renowned Mexican big-wave surfer says the harsh realities of his so-called childhood seem like a distant nightmare. But one which he simply refused to allow dictate his future.

“When I was on the streets — when I was that kid — I knew I want to be someone,” he says. “I mean not just be in jail, or on drugs. I knew I wanted to be someone in life.”

In the coming years, Coco’s pure determination would prove beyond any doubt, that no one is a slave to their circumstance. And today, it’s the power of this personal experience that he is hoping to impart to the next generation of mexican surfers.

“I know for certain that all of your dreams are possible,” Coco says as he sits among a circle of kids hailing from Puerto Escondido, Acapulco and the small fishing village of San Agustin.

In the background, a series of rolling left-handers hit the sculpted sandbank of La Punta, forming the perfect backdrop to — what for many of these children — will be an unforgettable moment in their lives. As part of his charity foundation AHAVA, Coco had handpicked a number of them to take part in a special workshop in August. He figures if there’s anyone in the surfing community suited to speak into their lives, it’s him.

“I think everyone needs someone to look up to,” he explains later. “I mean I’m not perfect, no one is, but I’ve been there and I know what they might be going through.”

There’s complete silence as the young ones take in his words.

And the wonder in their eyes speak volumes about the profound impact a few simple sentences strung together is set to have on their lives. Coco tells them about how he had to learn to hold his own on the streets of Mexico City — from selling chicles and paletes to cleaning cars and making a meal from leftovers as restaurants closed their doors.

After about six months he managed to save enough money to buy a bus ticket to Acapulco — a seaside tourism mecca, that just maybe, would offer a better existence.

“That was a little bit better, the weather was not so cold and I was not in the city and living on the beach.”

There he quickly learned to scrape an existence from the forgotten loose change of wealthy foreigners. He was a busker, experienced entertainer, expert salesman, and street savvy. And, among other things, it was here that he would have his first encounter with the English language.

“My friends taught me my first word,” he says, laughing. “It was ‘cheapskate,’ when the guys don’t give me money they told me to say, ‘cheapskate, cheapskate’ and I did.”

But Coco doesn’t try to downplay the reality of the situation. In his circle of friends, the problem with drugs and crime which mar the existence of millions of impoverished street children in Mexico, began to rear its ugly head. “But I knew I didn’t want to go down that road,” he explains. “I realised I had to leave.”

At the time, Coco started hearing some older guys talking about Puerto Escondio “el paraiso,” a place of surfing and big waves. A week later, he was sitting on a bus as it weaved its way along the road to Puerto Escondido.

“As soon as I came here, I knew this was going to be my house, forever.” Then surfing came into his life and, Coco says, it changed everything.

“But actually at first, when I was younger I was scared of waves,” Coco tells the kids. “I didn’t know how to swim, and I was afraid of the ocean.“But finally I said, I’m going to break this fear.”

Today, Coco rides giants for a living.

At 17, he scored an interview with Surfing Magazine and pins the launch of his career on a photograph of a single monster wave at Puerto Escondido, that he says “changed his life forever.”

“All it takes is one wave,” he says later, pointing to the very same picture (below) hanging on the wall of his dream home. But nothing comes easy, and for years Coco had to be relentless in his pursuit of carving a career from his passion. Pure determination, grasping every opportunity and what some would consider fate, led him to where he is today. But in life, Coco tells the AHAVA kids, it all comes down to respect and being the best person you can.

“This is what I tell them, I say ‘hey you know, believe in yourself, if I did it you can do it.’ It doesn’t matter if you live in a little shack, I lived in a little shack. It doesn’t matter how poor you are believe in yourself, just work hard, have a dream, fight. Have something you want. Don’t sit there and wait, go, get out there, make it happen.”

Coco finishes his chat with the kids on a positive. Their smiles widen as he jokes with them like old friends, and their eyes near burst out of their sockets, when he tells them about his close-calls, heavy wipeouts and surfing Mavericks, a wave he likens to a real life “horror movie.”

What do you like about surfing big waves, one of them asks shyly?

Coco’s eyes light up as he takes a moment to respond. “When you come out of one of those barrels, it’s a satisfaction you can’t explain,” he says. “Surfing big waves is like entering another world, another dimension.”

He tells the kids waking up and doing something your passionate about is the ultimate. But to get there, you need to focus first and foremost on making a positive impact on those around you everyday. “Good deeds bear good fruit,” he tells them. “Bad deeds, bear bad fruit.”

“I don’t want the kids to make mistakes like other people did, you know and because I know if they’re good to people, and to their own friends, good things are going to come to them.”

The stoke is almost tangible as the kids gather ‘round following a surf, and a training session with someone who has no doubt become an inspiration. Claps echo and parents watch in awe as Coco hands out 25 boards generously donated by Share The Stoke Foundation and some of his other friends in higher places.

But Coco explains AHAVA encompasses far more than simply giving these kids a board to ride. Beyond the euphoria, he hopes its the more important messages of respect, good morals and hard work that hits home.

“I want them to have opportunities and by having opportunity is being a good person, because you never know who you’re going to meet and who’s going to open the door for you. This is what AHAVA is about, its about passing the good vibes, these messages to the kids. I know for a fact, that one of them, you’re going to make the change for one of them, from the ten from the 20 from the 30 you’re going to make the change for one, and I’m happy with that.”

This post originally appeared on Free to Sea and is republished here with permission. All photos by the author.

The Great Ocean Walk in Victoria

Photo by Ben McIver

MOST TRAVELERS WHO make their way to the Australian state of Victoria (most commonly Melbourne) eventually find themselves heading to the Great Ocean Road. It’s a stretch of coastline in Victoria’s south that runs around 155 mi/250 km from Torquay to Warrnambool, and which includes the famous 12 Apostles.

What many visitors don’t bother to do though, is to hike any part of the 56 mi/91 km trail that hugs the coastline and gets you right down to the beaches. This is where Mother Nature is, away from the cars and buses, and into the bush with the kangaroos, wallabies, and echidnas.

Lots of options

You don’t have to hike the whole thing. You don’t even have to hike half of it. There are many points of entry and exit which facilitate short and long day hikes, and which many visitors explore while using a B&B or hotel for accommodation.

Shuttles can be hired to drop you off and pick you up at agreed-upon spots and times, and they’ll even do bag drop-off and food delivery (although, many purist hikers take major exception to this practice). We used GOR Shuttle to get taxied back to our van — I personally recommend them.

Tours are also available, if that’s your cup of tea.

For the overnight hikers

The Great Ocean Walk (GOW) starts at the Apollo Bay Visitor Information Centre and ends 90+ kms later at Glenample — within viewing distance of the 12 Apostles. For the hardest of the hardcore, this is a suggested 7-night, 8-day walk.

All the campsites on the walk are hike-in only. To minimise the environmental impact, Parks Victoria keeps the number of overnight hikers low, so each campsite has only eight spots for pitching a tent.

The campgrounds are very basic and have composting toilets, one or two untreated rainwater tanks, and a small 3-sided shelter. Open fires are not allowed and if the fire hazard is extreme, you may not even be allowed to cook with an open flame.

Pick and choose your itinerary

Overnight hikers can opt to do one-night/two-day hikes, two-night/three-day hikes, and so on. There are many starting and ending points but you must obtain a camping permit before spending the night.

For a detailed list of possible itineraries, read this very helpful PDF of FAQs.

A popular itinerary

Probably the most popular stretch of the walk is from Johanna Beach to the end at Glenample. This takes in roughly half of the trail — but from all accounts this is the better half. It is three nights, so is doable over a long weekend, which explains why it was booked solid when my wife and I tried to reserve sites over the Labour Day long weekend (early March in Australia).

But you’re a traveler, and you don’t even know what a weekend is, right? Perfect. We backed it up for one night (starting Thursday instead of Friday) and found ourselves almost completely alone for the whole walk, sharing each campground with only one other couple.

Johanna Beach to Glenample

If you’re driving in, you have two options: park at Johanna Beach and arrange a shuttle at the end to drive you back to your car, or park at the end and get shuttled to Johanna Beach to begin. The latter is better in my opinion, but we were forced to do the former due to time constraints.

The Johanna Beach hike-in campground is around one kilometer from the carpark, although it is all uphill. This is good though as it puts you at the top of the cliff overlooking Joahanna Beach and the coastline beyond. Brilliant view to wake up to the next morning.

The remaining two campsites you would use are Ryan’s Den and Devil’s Kitchen, in that order. The campgrounds are spaced around 9 mi/15 km apart from each other, so it is an honest day’s hike, especially packing full gear (including your trash — carry out what you carry in).

It’s an undulating trail as you follow the topography of fingers of land that reach into the sea. The vegetation is colourful and varied, and you’ll even pass some blackberry bushes — make sure to pause and fill up on some berry goodness.

When sunny, the ocean to your left is a rich blue, reminiscent of the Mediterranean but with the wildness of the Oregon Coast.

Things to consider

There are some stretches of beach walking (e.g. Milanesia and Wreck Beach) that are inaccessible at high tide. Check tide times before you start, otherwise you will have to take the less scenic high routes.
You must reserve your campsite at least two weeks in advance, and you are only allowed to stay a single night in each one.
It pays to reserve early. As we were the first to book, we were awarded with site #8 at each campsite. The sites are numbered 1-8 from the entrance, with 8 being the closest to the cliff’s edge, meaning the best views.
When planning your itinerary, keep in mind that you are only permitted to walk in one direction: from Apollo Bay to Glenample. Booking campsites in the reverse direction is not allowed.
As stated previously, each campground has rainwater tanks, but they are untreated. Make sure to pack some sort of filtration system or purification tablets. At the very minimum, if you don’t have these, boil the water for 10 minutes.
I’m a big fan of telescopic hiking sticks as they help to distribute the weight of your pack to your arms too. They can also be extremely handy on tricky downhill sections. Highly recommended.
The toilet houses are quite nice and one of them even has an ocean view. Toilet paper is provided, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to bring a bit extra, just in case.

This post was originally published on September 29, 2009.

A European roadtrip in timelapse

This video was one of the craziest projects I’ve ever worked on. Topdeck Travel called and asked if I would be interested in producing a two-minute European-roadtrip timelapse. Sounds easy right? Well, I only had two weeks to shoot all the footage and one weekend to plan the whole trip.

We left Krakow, Poland and drove to Prague in the Czech Republic. I planned to spend one day shooting and one day traveling to the next location. It was to be a drive-shoot-drive-shoot and repeat type of trip.

Our route was the same as it appears in the video with only one exception — in order to save time, we left our car in Paris and hopped a flight to Barcelona where we spent two nights before flying back to Paris to resume the roadtrip. So, we shot France before Spain, but the other locations are in the correct order.

After the 5,000-km trip we returned to Krakow, where we had a few days to relax. I printed out a fake magazine with Eva’s photographs in it so we could shoot the intro and outro scenes. I had a last-minute idea to use a dog but there was only one problem — we didn’t have a dog. Later that evening when we were out with friends, I saw a guy walking his beautiful dog down the street. I quickly asked if his dog wanted to be a movie star…fortunately, he did. Thank you White (dog) and Janek (owner)!

We picked the music track, and I edited it and made a preview storyboard — I wanted to know how many pictures to shoot for each scene. I used the same general idea in my previous videos: “PERU & BOLIVIA a stop-motion journey,” “GEORGIA hypertravel,” and “#NYC,” but I wanted to have a different kind of transition in each country and still keep a nice flow. I have to admit that at the time we were shooting the first location I was still missing two transitions. So we had to be spontaneous. But you will have to guess which ones are those. Hope you enjoy the fastest European roadtrip ever!

My route: