Matador Network's Blog, page 2253

Machu Picchu on your lunch break

Machu Picchu is right up near the top of virtually every traveler’s bucket list, but getting there may be prohibitively expensive for some. Fortunately, we live in the age of YouTube, and we don’t need to fly all the way to Cuzco, catch a train, and then climb a mountain in order to get to Machu Picchu — filmmakers do it all for us.

Devin Graham, a traveler and filmmaker, put together this amazing video from the top of Machu Picchu, and also from within the Amazon. The views are absolutely incredible, as you might expect. Give it a watch if you a) want to see Machu Picchu without traveling to it, or b) need some inspiration on your lunch break to finally buy that plane ticket.

What travel media are getting wrong

Photo: Author. Feature photo: John Steven Fernandez

Fly Brother (aka Ernest White II) tackles international travel in unabridged, unapologetic, full and complete color. He’s a former assistant editor of Time Out São Paulo, whose writing has appeared in Time Out London, the Orlando Sentinel, Ebony, TravelChannel.com, American Airlines’ Black Atlas, Travel by Handstand, TripAdvisor, Viator, Jetsetter, World Travel Guide, and Matador Network. He has also been featured on The Root, The Huffington Post, and the Montreal Gazette Online, and has appeared as a host on the Travel Channel’s Jamaica Bared and Destination Showdown, which aired this past summer on the Travel Channel. I connected with him earlier this year to conduct this interview.

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BA: Tell us who you are. How would you describe your work?

EWII: Well, my name is Ernest White II, and I’m a writer and educator from Jacksonville, Florida. I’ve lived in five countries and traveled to almost 40. I’m a huge aviation geek, and a history buff with an affinity for house music and old-school movie-musicals (my most obvious gay trait).

I feel like my two professional strains — writing and education — are constantly influencing one another. I think my writing offers a bit of knowledge to the reader, whether it’s a personal travel narrative, a how-to guide, or a piece of fiction. Conversely, the way I interact with my students is by incorporating literature, film, history, and (of course) travel as a part of my teaching methodology (which is easy to do when you’re teaching English, history, or social sciences, as I do).

I guess I must also mention that my work as a writer is driven by my desire to connect people of color — particularly black Americans — to the world outside our immediate communities. Be that through highlighting a specific cultural connection or collection of influences, or something more universal to the human experience.

So thinking about place and identity is pervasive in all your work.

I absolutely feel that place and identity are pervasive in my work. We as people are greater than the sum of our parts, but where we’re from and the identities that stem from that, as well as the identities that we craft on our own, are two of the largest constituent parts to who we are.

Truth. What came first: writing or traveling? Was becoming a travel writer inevitable?

Traveling definitely came first, because I’ve had a love for geography, cultures, and languages since elementary school. My first inclination was to be a novelist, but I think considering my absolute compulsion to travel (which can severely impair novel-writing time) pushed me towards the inevitable.

Your “Why Fly Brother?” mission statement (and all the comments that follow) is probably one of my favorite things on the internet. You say, “People want to know what being black means outside of the US.” Do you have an answer for that?

Thank you! I think that statement can be read two ways: as indicating a curiosity that (black) Americans may have about their own potential experiences abroad, and as a curiosity about non-American folks in the African Diaspora worldwide. I certainly don’t have a singular answer to that curiosity because, to my mind, there are infinite ways to be black inside and outside the US.

Of course.

I could also say something like “It means people copying your dance steps, music, and speech patterns, and you get arrested with greater frequency,” but that would be a bit cynical, wouldn’t it?

You’re talking to Cynic Numero Uno; you’re safe here.

I know you feel me.

Just a few years ago, a search for “black” or “POC travel blogs” wouldn’t bring up many results. Now, there are tons of folks doing it. What’s changing?

First, I think it took a minute for people of color to get into the blogging game in general, and, specifically, travel-related blogs. I think as a demographic, again, speaking generally, we spent more of our computer time focused on money-earning endeavors, and it was only when we began noticing the dearth of writing out there that spoke to our particular experiences that we began to write in earnest.

Yes, sometimes folks wait around for a hero, someone with guts. It speaks to representation.

I absolutely agree that sometimes people need to see someone else take the plunge first, which I understand. I can be pioneering in some ways and a total wuss in others.

Word. It helps not to be The Only One doing a thing.

But that also reflects the historical relationship of people of color to travel, especially those of us from backgrounds that don’t include recent immigration from another country. Just as travel was seen as a luxury item, I think we tended to view blogging about it — at first — as somewhat of a waste of time.

Photo: Fly Brother

Interesting, but do you think that’s a direct result of the active exclusion of POC by the travel industry?

I do think there was some active exclusion of people of color in travel up until the late 1960s, at least in the US. You still had segregated airports, bus terminals, buses, trains, beaches even. Then, there was the prohibitive cost of air and sea travel. Couple that with the very real need for steady employment within the community, and you can see a built-in reticence to just drop it all and travel.

Once, I was profiled on a black news website about my travels and forgot to mention something about how cheaply I travel during the interview. Sure enough, one of the commenters mentioned that I must have a trust fund or something. Even now, the idea that travel is prohibitively expensive still exists.

It can be seen as “privileged” or something “white people do” within communities of color.

Absolutely.

Any thoughts on how race is handled in travel media today?

Generally, I don’t feel that non-white people are treated in the same exoticized way as you’d see in travel media (mostly personal narratives, magazine articles, travel posters, and tour brochures) up through the early 20th century. Nowadays, there’s an atmosphere of cultural sensitivity up to a point, and then it just gets ignored as an issue too big to address.

In travel media, anything is up for grabs if it sells. Indigenous communities turn into destinations to be consumed, bought, and sold, reinstating imperialism altogether.

Well, you know what, this speaks to the larger problem. I think when it comes to indigenous communities and tourism, the exoticism has never gone away. Lord, it’s depressing. And STILL ignored by mainstream travel media.

I don’t expect much from mainstream travel media, but even the other stuff is full of this kind of rhetoric. I think travel writers just copy what’s out there. I was literally told the same in travel writing class. Just do what the mainstream folks are doing, and you’ll get in. And as long as a white majority is still steering these conversations, this kind of content will go unchallenged.

That advice kind of disgusts me, nahmsayin? ::sigh:: preachin’ to the choir.

That’s why a lot of that glossy travel mag stuff is so trashy! Not that it’s all bad. There’s hope, people.

It goes unchallenged all the time. I just read an essay in a major travel publication by a very famous writer who’s made questionable statements regarding race before. If we’re being honest, there’s some, shall we say, tongue biting that must be done if we want to have some semblance of success in the industry.

Which is to say, if you don’t wanna go broke.

We have to play along somewhat until we get into a position to be completely true to our voices. It means sometimes taking the slower road to success: subversion.

At what price do you end up “selling out?”

I will say that there isn’t any amount offered that would make me feel good about misrepresenting my people or anyone else for that matter. Not with my name attached.

Preach!

This post was originally published at Everywhere All The Time and is reprinted here with permission.

94 days of summer in San Diego

Photo: Chad McDonald

IT’S TIME TO SAY GOODBYE to cloudy skies and soggy socks — summer is nearly here! In celebration of the tan lines and cold beers ahead, I have compiled for you a list of 94 of my favorite summertime activities in San Diego, one for every day of the season.

1. Kick off the summer with a hike along the oceanfront trails at the Torrey Pines State Reserve.

2. Ruin all that exercise with a high-calorie picnic of cheese and snacks on the beach below.

3. If you were able to actually acquire tickets to the LSU Alumni Crawfish Boil, I hope you also purchased elastic-waistband pants along with them. Every summer, thousands of in-the-know gluttons converge on the old practice field at Qualcomm for a little-known San Diego annual tradition, coolers full of side dishes, rubber gloves, and empty pitchers in tow. Fill your pitcher with as much free beer as you can (especially helpful right before they stop serving for free), pass the side dishes around, snap on your gloves, and dive elbows-deep into the comically large pile of bright red crawfish before you.

4. Make friends in the exorbitantly long lines at Phil’s BBQ. It’s worth the wait.

5. Take your girlfriend on a kayak tour of the La Jolla caves.

6. Tip your kayak, then pretend to be getting eaten by leopard sharks until she cries. (I’m still not convinced they’re harmless.)

7. Eat your way through the OB Street Fair & Chili Cook-Off. Speedwalk to Rite-Aid afterwards to grab some much-needed antacids.

8. Eat an acai bowl for breakfast while watching the morning waves roll in.

Photo: meghan dougherty

9. Every lazy exercise routine must include a day at the Morley Field Disc Golf Course. Popsicles from the snack shack are pretty much mandatory.

10. Wait out the June Gloom in the climate-controlled casino at Viejas. If the gambling doesn’t make you feel better, some rum and cokes probably will.

11. A camping trip at South Carlsbad State Beach is the perfect excuse to crack a beer at dawn and eat nine hot dogs for lunch.

12. Ride a beach cruiser from Ocean Beach to La Jolla. Stop for ice cream cones — plural — on the Mission Beach boardwalk.

13. Get cultured for free on Tuesdays at Balboa Park. Congratulate yourself for being a sophisticated museum-goer.

14. Shotgun a PBR and loiter around The Casbah, the best place to see an up-and-coming band before they get all famous and you have to pretend not to like them anymore.

15. Risk heat exhaustion at the Wild Animal Park. Pant like a buffalo while giraffes, gazelle, and hippos all intermingle at the watering hole.

16. Study graffiti in Chicano Park. Tell Lucky-2-Tears I say hello.

17. Have lunch and a Long Island at South Beach Bar & Grille, home of the best fish taco I have ever laid lips on.

18. Hop on the old wooden roller coaster at Belmont Park in Mission Beach. You’ll scream more from the creaking than the ride itself.

19. Order a caprese sandwich at Mona Lisa’s before exploring the Little Italy Mercato.

20. Dig out your old Zelda costume and hit Comic-Con, the Western Hemisphere’s largest and most popular nerd-fest.

21. Couldn’t get tickets to Comic-Con? Head downtown anyway. The chance to see Darth Vader have lunch with a Transformer only comes once per year.

22. Overlook the fact that it’s mentioned in every San Diego guidebook. Presidio Park is one of the best places for an afternoon picnic in the city.

23. Summer’s all about simple pleasures. Run around Ocean Beach all afternoon clutching a popsicle and chasing the wild parrots.

24. Spend frivolously on an overpriced jet ski rental and speed around Mission Bay.

25. Take a free tour of the Stone Brewery in Escondido. Get complimentary beer at the end.

26. Devour the best bacon cheeseburger on Earth at Hodad’s. Bring an aspirin for when the heart attack hits.

27. Paint yourself rainbow and head to Balboa Park for the annual LGBT Pride Festival.

28. Best place to watch the nightly fireworks at Sea World without having to do that whole Sea World part? Fiesta Island.

29. Enjoy a sandwich and some cheap booze at Sunset Cliffs Natural Park. Watch out for the seagulls. They peck. Hard.

30. Rub elbows with San Diego’s douchiest clientele at the Altitude Sky Lounge. The view into Petco Park on a game night makes it completely worth it.

31. Learn to surf at La Jolla Shores, where both the waves and the locals are gentle.

Photo: eric molina

32. Forget Taco Bell. Eat a true San Diego Staple: carne asada fries.

33. Push back the wall of kegs and step into one of San Diego’s worst-kept secrets: Noble Experiment. Fair warning: this place isn’t for the claustrophobic and, in keeping with the 1920s vibe, they have a strict dress code. Because, you know, there were no flip flops and snapbacks in the 1920s.

34. Pack up some water and trail mix for a 7-mile hike up Mount Woodson. And by up, I mean up — it’s a 2,000+ foot elevation gain from Lake Poway to the top.

35. Lose every bet at the Del Mar Racetrack. Thanks to 4 O’Clock Fridays, you can still afford the free show afterwards.

36. Not to state the obvious, but San Diego is home to one million (okay, 33) beaches. Nothing says summer like sand in the crack.

37. Watch the old-timers get drunk and rowdy playing beach softball at the notoriously vulgar Over-The-Line tournament.

38. Take a date to the South Bay Drive-In and make out in the back seat, just like the olden days.

39. Suppress your inner Godzilla as best as you can for the US Open Sandcastle Competition.

40. Pet a llama with one hand while eating a giant turkey leg with the other at the Del Mar Fair. I’ll never call it by that other name.

41. Watch in awe as a stranger projectile vomits into the street, then lose your shoe at Beer Fest.

42. Walk fearlessly through the Whaley House in Old Town. Try not to cry.

43. Speaking of pants-crappingly scary, bring your acrophobic friends to the Spruce Street Suspension Bridge and watch them squirm.

44. Stay up late for a Grunion Run, when fish crawl up the shore to spawn. Bring a bucket and a flashlight if you plan to do more than just be a voyeuristic creeper.

45. Even if you don’t have a large enough wagon full of money to play, visit the Torrey Pines Golf Course just for the views.

46. Afterwards, join me in getting drunk with the locals at the Mission Bay Golf Course.

47. Look for Slomo, the slow-motion in-line skater out on the Pacific Beach boardwalk.

48. Fork over $12 to sit on the grass for a Padres game with a plate of nachos and a baseball glove.

49. Gorge yourself on fresh apple pie and ice cream at the Julian Pie Company. So. Good.

50. The Mission Bay Aquatic Center can take you wakeboarding without the added expense of buying a boat.

51. Unbend a coat hanger and grab a bag of marshmallows for a bonfire at one of San Diego’s many fire-friendly beaches.

Photo: Alan Nakkash

52. On your way to a show at Belly Up in Solana Beach, stop by Pizza Port for some locally brewed craft beer.

53. Now that Pizza Port is also in Ocean Beach, a pint of the Skid Mark Brown may be the new Winston’s pre-show ritual.

54. But for a true taste of how pizza and beer is done in OB, head a few blocks down to Newport Pizza & Alehouse to eat a Tony Soprano.

55. Take a day trip into Tijuana. Be thankful it’s not Juarez.

56. Get some holes poked through your head at Apogee Piercing on Newport Avenue.

57. Spend a day getting skinned knees and elbows while mountain biking at Mission Trails.

58. Jump off a cliff at the Torrey Pines Gliderport. Or, if you’re me, just watch quietly.

59. While you’re there, take your pants off and check out Black’s, the nude beach below. On second thought, keep your pants (and sneakers) on to climb down the unstable cliffs.

60. Be a sucker for cheap amusements. Embrace the crappy helmets and shitty bats at the batting cages at Boomers in Kearny Mesa.

61. Do you enjoy being ridiculed by children? Yes, me too. That’s why I skateboard at the Robb Field Skatepark.

62. Silently loathe / feel superior to the Starbucks up the street as you relax at Jungle Java.

63. Try to finish your plate at the Hash House in Hillcrest. I’d keep a pair of stretchy pants in the car if I were you.

64. I’m not about to let digital music take over without a fight. Lou’s Records in Encinitas is my final dying ally.

65. Get zen at the Self Realization Fellowship’s Meditation Gardens in Encinitas.

66. Is public humiliation totally your thing? The Mission Beach Wave House’s FlowRider is for you.

67. Enjoy a freshly caught lunch at Point Loma Seafoods. Order anything with calamari in it. Actually, just order anything.

68. Pedal through the city at night on the Midnight Madness bike ride.

69. People-watch on the streets of downtown San Diego. Watch two bums fight over a shoe.

70. Slip slowly into a sugar-induced coma at Extraordinary Desserts in Little Italy.

71. Mount Soledad is an ideal spot to look out at the city lights. Or to make out with your summer fling.

72. Hunt for treasures at Kobey’s Swap Meet. I once went for a guitar, but left with a bonsai tree and a framed photo of a Mexican fisherman.

73. Time your southbound commute through Del Mar just right to see hot air balloons float by at sunset.

74. Mix alcohol and board games at the Whistle Stop on Tuesday nights. Take it easy — I’ve lost many friendships over violent Connect Four disputes.

75. The San Diego Velodrome’s Tuesday evening races are like a hipster version of NASCAR!

76. Spend a day volunteering as a dog walker for one of San Diego’s shelters or rescues.

Photo: Anita Ritenour

77. Take a history lesson and a cheesy photo in front of the lighthouse at the Cabrillo National Monument.

78. After the lighthouse, visit the nearby tidepools and get pinched by a crab. (That’s what you get for poking at the wildlife.)

79. The Red Fox Steak House serves dinner, but the real reasons to be there are the extremely stiff drinks and the jazzy piano man.

80. The open practices at Chargers Training Camp give you the chance to get up close and personal with a bunch of very large men.

81. Shovel down a halibut burrito at the Tin Fish, then go splash around in the fountain with a bunch of little kids and the occasional homeless guy.

82. Engage in a stereotypical Southern California beach volleyball game on the public courts at Mission Beach.

83. Channel your inner Lebowski and order up a White Russian at the East Village Tavern + Bowl.

84. Only slightly crappier than Napa, San Diego wineries provide an enjoyable tasting experience without having to put up with uppity wine snobs.

85. Fishing is kinda messy, but boats are awesome. Take a whale watching tour if you’re not up for fighting with a 100-pound tuna.

86. Ocean Beach’s leash-free Dog Beach gives your happy pup a chance to frolic, chase a Frisbee, or just sniff butts all day long.

87. Pan for gold in Julian, where the Julian Mining Company will graciously spike your first handful.

88. Dinosaurs are real. See Rangui and Rumbi for yourself on Bonita Road.

89. Spot harbor seals at the Children’s Pool in La Jolla, but keep your distance; they don’t smell as cute as they look.

90. Catch up on some summer reading under the Moreton Bay fig tree at Balboa Park. Get hit in the head by a fig.

91. Pop your collar and get your fake tan on, because the Pacific Beach bar scene is calling. For a lower frat-boy factor, try Cass Street Bar & Grill.

92. Munch on a churro (or 12). Best bargain in town? Costco.

93. Do you have a large inventory of Pepto Bismol to use up? One competitive eating challenge at Tower Bar will solve that.

94. Restaurant Week is appropriately slotted for the tail end of bathing suit season. Get fat for fall!

Post originally published June 21, 2010

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Our friends at Visit California asked Matador how we #dreambig in California. This post is part of a series we’re publishing to answer that question. Click here for more.

12 people you meet in Portugal

Photo: Pedro Ribeiro Simões

1. The Peruvian girl who lets you couchsurf for a night in her apartment

She welcomes you with a strong American English accent and right away offers you a mandarin orange and something cool to drink. She is lovely and smart and funny, and when you wake up the next morning, she gives you a delicious strawberry-banana smoothie.

2. The pretty, lonely girl in a bus station waiting for the same bus as you

If you’re brave enough to make the move and go speak to her. Of course you are. You’re a real traveler, right? Then probably she’ll sit next to you on the bus all the way from Porto to Lisbon. And in that time, you’ll discover she’s from Romania, and you’ll both watch the movie Equilibrium on her laptop and even share a frango sandwich at one of the stops.

3. The ultimate traveler

“You can’t travel too much.” That’s what you think after meeting a Scottish guy who’s working night shifts in the small hostel where you stay. He doesn’t work for money but for accommodation and surf classes every morning. He becomes your surfing buddy the whole week and also an inspiration after he tells you he’s worked as a scuba-diving teacher in India, a DJ in Thailand, and a hotel manager in Turkey. One month later he sends you an email: “I’m going to Nepal.” You just say “wow!”

4 & 5. The American couple traveling by bike along the Portuguese coast

She’s from Tennessee and he’s from South Carolina. “That’s wonderful,” you tell them. “Big Memphis Grizzlies fan here.” They smile. She teaches English in a rainy city in the north of Spain. “Their English is horrible,” she says. He’s a civil engineer who’s visiting his girlfriend for a week. They thought an original way to spend these days after some time living so far away from each other was to cycle around and visit some beautiful fishing villages in Portugal. And yeah, it is.

6. The Central European girl who can speak at least five languages

She fluently speaks Bulgarian, German, English, Spanish, and French. After discovering that, you don’t know where to hide. Finally, you embrace the tricky situation and talk some more with her. She’s an always-smiling girl from Bulgaria who lives in Münster, Germany. One night in the hostel you play Jenga with her, and she wins five times in a row. Always smiling. You too.

7. The local surf teacher who’s an artist

“Ready to surf some good ondinhas?” he asks when he arrives to pick you up with the gigantic green van overcrowded with surfboards for rookies. During trips to the beach, he tells you a different and exciting story every day. One is about the near-death experience he had last winter surfing at Supertubes. Another day he tells you — quite happily — that he paints some surfboards for Garrett McNamara, the world’s best big-wave surfer. How cool is that! He’s just an artist-surfer. And no matter which story he tells, you just admire him too much.

8. The professional photographer who sleeps in the grass near the Duero River with an empty Porto wine bottle next to him

You shoot him with your camera for beginners. Best picture of your travels in Portugal, no doubt. Then he wakes up, reaches for the empty bottle, and gets angry. After that, he stands up and looks around. He can see your “fresh traveler” face and feel your curiosity. He salutes you with his right hand, smiles, and walks away, leaving the wine bottle in the grass. Time to find new visuals. His professional camera, his astonishing photographs, and himself.

9, 10, & 11. The three hot Italians girls who arrive at the hostel when you’re just checking out

No need to say more than that. You spend the journey home thinking of all the things you could have done in a marvelous surfing village like Peniche with three, yeah, three, gorgeous girls with sexy accents and hot bikinis. For sure.

12. The lost man

Everywhere you go you see this guy. He’s from the other side of the world. After saying hello and learning where he’s from (the Kamchatka Peninsula in Siberia), you can’t stop thinking, “in one of the smallest villages I’ve ever been to, in the middle of nowhere in Portugal, I meet a guy from the Kamchatka Peninsula. Are you kidding me?” The world is always funnier than you think.

BASE jumping off a zipline [vid]

Marshall Miller went out to visit his friends in Moab, Utah, and while he was there, he got talked into BASE jumping. Into a canyon. From a zipline.

Of course, the revolution in badass insanery will absolutely be televised thanks to GoPro — he made sure he strapped on two cameras, one on his head and the other down near his waist, so that the less brave of us watching from home could see both what he was doing and his reaction to it. His reaction is about what you’d expect: “That was so scary!”

Miller is clearly a master of understatement, because it looks absolutely terrifying. Kudos to him and his balls of steel.

How tourism destroyed the Yucatan

Photo: Brent

From Cancun to Playa Del Carmen, Mexico’s northern Yucatán coast is rapidly turning into one huge resort. Some of these expansive, decadent getaways for (mostly) Americans and Europeans are “all-inclusive,” meaning food and (bottom shelf) liquor are included in the price of your stay. You can drink and eat to your heart’s content. Hundreds of thousands of vacationers flood these resorts every year, ingesting, imbibing, soaking up the sun and exclusive private beaches.

Fair enough, right?

“Playa Del Carmen is dying. The all-inclusive resorts are killing it,” Diego tells me during an interview for JustaPack. Acutely intrigued by this statement, I met up with him a week or so later to learn more.

The “First World” has entered towns like Playa del Carmen, introducing hard capitalism, and turned what used to be a quiet fishing hamlet into a thrumming, throbbing beach town filled with boutique shops, pricey restaurants, and obnoxious booming nightclubs. The growth has been rapid and is nowhere near finished. The locals have adapted to this new way of life, and ply all sorts of services to the outsiders. You walk down the main tourist strip and are offered everything from clothes, massages, food, “buy junk you don’t need before you leave” (according to one witty salesperson), and drugs. Always ends with the drugs.

“I got the party, the real stuff. Marijuana, coke, X. I got it all.”

As you can imagine, this has led to a sharp increase in violence and theft in the area, as where drug dealers roam, roams strife and danger. One example Diego mentioned was the sharp increase in bicycle “muggings.” You slow down on your bike at an intersection and barely even perceive the danger before you’re knocked to the ground, perhaps beaten, and have your bike taken. This happens in local areas as the police are busy patrolling tourist areas.

Locals suffer; we relax and party. Familiar story.

Now say you’re staying in an all-inclusive resort. You might leave the grounds one of the four or five nights of your stay. You normally are a few kilometers from the main tourist areas, so take a taxi into town. You certainly aren’t buying food or liquor, which are probably the top draws of Playa’s tourist strip, 5th Avenue. Yeah, you might buy some trinkets. Or you go to the brand new Gucci / Levi’s / Prada / Nike / Forever 21 stores and buy some shit there.

The competition for the leftover scraps is fierce. This leads to every local establishment having a tout or two outside, hard-selling the goods / services offered. They make eye contact if they can, turn your head with any comment that might grab your attention, and then swoop in. The sell is desperate and at times bitter, since they only get paid if you actually spend some money. They aren’t selling local culture or handcrafts, either — they’re selling imported bullshit from China. T-shirts with logos and stupid quotes like “I like to fart – Playa Del Carmen” and cheaply manufactured “Mexican” sombreros dominate the retail landscape.

Remember that your presence has contributed to an insanely rapid and mostly negative change in the local way of life; let that humble you.

Mexican citizens can buy vacations at Mexican all-inclusive resorts on layaway. Basically, they pay the price over the course of a year or two, take a long bus ride from Mexico City, and find themselves in a little private piece of heaven, away from the bustle, crime, and pollution of that sprawling urban monstrosity. Since they have probably been putting most of their vacation money away to pay for the all-inclusive resort, they’re unlikely to spend any money during a trip into town. The locals of Playa are really bitter about this type of tourist, seeing it as a betrayal from their own kind. The “all-inclusive Mexicans” are frowned upon more than any other sort in Playa.

The all-inclusive resorts rarely hire locals. They offer unpaid internships to Mexicans from all over the country who have gone to hospitality school, importing them for their knowledge of English and other languages, and for their education. This freezes out the locals almost completely, as many of the best paying jobs are in the hospitality industry. Nor do the locals see any sort of profit sharing from these places. The all-inclusive resorts pay a tax (or a bribe, depending on how realistic you want to be about it) to the national government. One would think the resorts would give SOMETHING back to the community. Nope. Aside from some infrastructure they barely use, the locals get nothing.

Oh, wait, they DID get a Walmart! Lucky them, huh? Freshly built, this gigantic megastore is the all-inclusive resort of shopping. It sells everything and features prices that are mostly beyond reach of locals. One-stop shopping is highly convenient and Walmart, as it’s done everywhere, has laid its insidious roots, managing to put all sorts of other locally owned shops out of business.

There’s talk of building a gigantic shopping center near Playa Del Carmen, called the Dragon Mart. The investors in this project? The Chinese, with some American support. They are paying the government millions of dollars in “taxes” for the right to do so. An estimated 5,000 jobs will be lost, while only 4,000 new jobs will be created.

Except that The Dragon Mart will, in all likelihood, be importing Chinese workers. As Diego put it, “We are about to have a China Town in Playa.”

Our very presence in these places has a direct influence on the way of life of its inhabitants. Sometimes we bring a healthy change with us, but mostly we superimpose our way of life in an unhealthy fashion.

So, when you come to Playa, or decide you want to visit the horrific Cancun, or other popular tourist destinations like Maui, Bali, or Costa Rica, stay somewhere other than an all-inclusive resort. Remember that your presence has contributed to an insanely rapid and mostly negative change in the local way of life; let that humble you. You will pay less for your stay if you book a 3- or 4-star hotel and eat and drink at local establishments. Trust me, you will still have a great time. The food will be better, the liquor won’t be bottom shelf, the cervezas will be just as cold — you will actually experience a new culture and its people. Most of all, you can proudly know that you didn’t directly contribute to the suffering of the local population whose home you’re calling your vacation playground.

3 reasons to travel to Egypt NOW

Photo: Karen Eliot

Egyptian affairs have been international news since the overthrow of President Mubarak in 2011. Egypt has held onto this unfortunate spotlight following the revolution, coup d’etat, and removal of Mohamed Morsi from office in 2013. Despite everything you hear, here’s why there’s no better time to visit the country.

1. It’s never been so affordable, and it probably never will be again.

Egypt’s economy is desperately dependent on tourism and hospitality. It’s full of the world’s most famous antiquities, as well as some of the most unique landscapes and recreational water activities. You can spend a weekend diving the Blue Hole of Dahab, climb the ancient blocks of the Great Pyramid of Giza, and descend through 3,000-year-old tombs of ancient pharaohs at the Valley of the Kings.

Following a terrorist attack in Luxor in 1997, tourism took a brutal blow, and the country still hasn’t recovered from when the 2011 demonstrations in Tahrir Square hit international news outlets. As a result, major price cuts have occurred in all realms of the Egyptian tourism industry. There’s literally not a thing in Egypt that’s nonnegotiable. A budget traveler can easily find a private room in a hostel or hotel for as cheap as $5, an awesome meal for less than $4, and a tour guide desperate for some work for less than $10/day.

2. Egyptians are ecstatic to host foreigners in their country.

I walked past a “Welcome to Egypt” sign moments after clearing customs in Taba, and a sense of uncertainty overcame me. I questioned if I was naïve in putting so much faith in people I’d never met, and so little trust in dramatized international news stories. I walked another 500 meters, and the manager of the bus stop came outside, sat down next to me on the bench, cut into his orange with his pocketknife, and handed me half. “Welcome to Egypt!” he delightfully beamed. His English was great, and he informed me that my bus wouldn’t arrive for four hours — so I should leave my bags with him and enjoy myself across the street at Taba’s newest outdoor lounge.

This incident wasn’t isolated — on the bus, I had three people sitting near me who welcomed me a dozen times. They offered up their smartphones to help me find lodging in Cairo. One man, Ahmed, even got off the bus and negotiated a cheaper taxi fare for me and later sent me an email just to make sure I successfully landed on my feet in Cairo.

With so little tourism these days, any and all tourists stick out like a KFC across the street from the Sphinx. Every single time I left my hostel, I was approached by complete strangers wishing to welcome me. Nine times out of ten, this was my standard greeting, but at least six or seven times, after replying I was from the US, they’d bellow, “Welcome to Alaska!” I still have absolutely no clue why everybody said it, but it was friendly as hell.

3. You won’t have to wait in line for anything.

Every single attraction, from Cairo’s Citadel to the Temple of Karnak in Luxor, can be your own private playground for a day. In February 2014, there were less than a dozen tourists at both when I arrived. You can guarantee yourself an intimate and personal experience at every attraction you’ve had your heart set on traveling to since seeing The Prince of Egypt as a kid.

Travel guides say that considering the crowds and time-restricted viewings in Luxor, it’s best to secure three days at a minimum in order to see everything. In just one day, I was able to go to the Valley of the Kings, Temple of Karnak, and Hatshepsut, take an afternoon stroll down the banks of the Nile, swipe a half dozen sugarcanes to sample from a passing tractor, and soak in the most remarkable view from any McDonald’s on Earth.

Working on a fishing boat in Alaska

Living on a boat with five other people is something all my future claustrophobic experiences will be measured against. It’s hard enough to live in such close quarters when you get along with your fellow sardines, but that was far from my case. The captain called us the worst crew he ever had. One new father in his early 20s couldn’t get to the boat two hours late — let alone on time — to save his life. Our skiff man was completely occupied with a girlfriend who wanted nothing to do with him. Then, of course, there was me. The new guy who had no clue about what it took to work on a commercial fishing boat in Alaska.

The work was nasty. It was pure repetition starting every day at 3am. Let the skiff go to set the net. Wait. Skiff closes the net. Pile web while not letting the wind blow it onto your partners standing just to your right and left. Dodge the red jellyfish oozing off the web. Use the hydraulics to haul the catch onto the deck. Repeat. Somewhere between letting the skiff off and piling web, I cooked three meals and drank three ulcers worth of coffee. On good nights we got three hours of sleep.

It was the type of experience about which people say “gives you character.” I can’t argue with that. I can’t explain it, but the entire thing sucked so completely that I have nothing but positive memories of it. The frustration and animosity made the decent moments that much sweeter. Seeing whales breach and working outside for good money is an opportunity most will never have.

1

The Aleshaley
The purse seine fishing boat Aleshaley plies the waters near Sitka, Alaska.





2

Captain Granberg
Captain Kevin Granberg barks directions at his crew before controlling the hydraulic hook that pulls the net from the water.





3

Letting out the skiff
While the captain mans the hydraulic controls, it is up to the skiff man, tethered by a heavy-duty rope, to keep the larger fishing vessel off the rocks.




Intermission





How to get work on an Alaskan fishing boat





What it’s like to work on a cruise ship in Alaska





Memories of summer in Alaska

















4

The outsider
Skiff men are the goalies of the fishing world. They are the "go it alone" outsiders cut from their own very different cloth. They are responsible for setting the net and staying in constant radio contact with the captain.





5

Bringing in the net
The skiff brings in the net while the rest of the crew gets ready to haul the load on deck.





6

Wenching the net
The net is sucked out of the water by a wench and overhead power block. The crew is responsible for stacking each of the three sections of the net: the cork, web, and lead line.





7

Stacking the net
Trevor Volk stacks the net’s corks in a circular pattern. When in the water the corks float just above the surface while the net is pulled down by the lead line.





8

The haul
Thousands of pounds of salmon hit the deck of the Aleshaley. After the fish are brought on board, they are kicked into the refrigerated belly of the boat where they float until delivered to a larger vessel called a tender later in the day.





9

Offloading
Trevor Volk positions the large vacuum that will suck the water and salmon out of the fishing boat and into the tender where they will be sorted and later delivered to a cannery.





10

The remains
After the vacuum has sucked out most of the water and fish, it's up to the crew to get what remains onto the tender. It’s important to have a quick eye, as the value of certain types of salmon plummets if they are put through the crude and sometimes destructive vacuum.





11

The benefits
While the work is backbreaking, the views are unbeatable.

15 signs you're from Melbourne

Photo: Logan Campbell

1. You believe there’s no better coffee on the planet.

Our coffee is among the best and we know it. We complain about the bitter crap coffee when we travel and normally spend hours looking through Lonely Planet reviews to find that one coffeeshop which might be okay. When we finally do find that one coffeeshop on the other side of the world, we just tell the barista “I’m from Melbourne” and watch the sweat drip down their face. It’s on!

2. You hate Sydney with passion.

We will take any chance we can get to abuse Sydney — the people are snobby, it’s too expensive, it’s full of one-way streets, the roads are horrific, the food is rubbish. For your own sake, just tell us that you prefer Melbourne; you might even get a frothy (beer).

3. You think you’re cultured.

Chances are the next Melburnian you bump into has some sort of ethnic background. Hell, I do! We have streets dedicated to the Greeks, Italians, Chinese, Turkish, and Lebanese, just to mention a few. Somehow, this all of a sudden makes us cultured.

4. You believe Melbourne is the sports capital of the world…

We host one of the four tennis Grand Slams in Melbourne — the Australian Open. We host the Formula 1 Grand Prix. We have four football codes for only 4 million people. We have the best golf course in the country. We have one of the highest capacity stadiums in the world, the Melbourne Cricket Ground (MCG). We get a public holiday every year for a horse race that supposedly stops the nation, the Melbourne Cup.

More like this: What NOT to do in Melbourne

Where else in the world can you get paid to get pissed , bet on horses, and have a barbecue all day for a race that lasts approximately three minutes?

If that’s not enough, we love cricket…and we actually find it entertaining.

5. …and that AFL is a religion.

The “watermelon sport,” as my dad calls it. AFL, one of the four football codes (or ‘footy’ as we call it), is what we live and breathe by. You’ll notice the different footy team colours sweeping the city every weekend, especially on Grand Final day, supporters with bucked-up teeth moaning and screaming phrases like walruses on steroids.

Here’s a tip: Insult a Collingwood supporter (team with black and white colours) and see what happens.

6. You’ve worn sunnies, thongs, a singlet, raincoat, and sweater all in a day’s work.

Ah, yes! The infamous four seasons in a day. The wind will blow your umbrella out of your hands (it’s happened to me twice), but hey, it makes the day more interesting. Just don’t bother messing with your hair. Melburnians call it “character building.”

7. You’ve had hot jam doughnuts from Queen Vic Market.

You’re not from Melbourne if:

1) You haven’t had the hot jam doughnuts from the Doughnut Van at the Queen Victoria Market that’s lined with people waiting to get their fix and 2) you don’t like or haven’t been to the Queen Victoria Market.

8. You’ve made a hook turn.

It’s simple, “You need to turn left to turn right,” as most Melburnians will yelp. We just love confusing the hell out of people.

9. You ‘simplify’ everyone’s name.

We’re too lazy to call you by your birth name. You need a nickname, and it’s generally made by ending your first or last name with an “a,” “o,” “z,” or “y,” whichever works better. For example:

Barry = Bazza

David = Davo

Teresa = Tez

Paul = Pauly

If those letters don’t work, we’ll be sure to find something for you.

And if that doesn’t confuse you, we also do it with any word possible — come to Melbs, have a barbie on a Sundy arvo, watch the footy, and have a cuppa with grans.

10. You love trams.

We have the largest network of trams in the world, and we just can’t get enough of them. We grow up getting told that Melbourne is so special and different because it has trams. We soon realise that most of the world has trams. What a surprise!

They may stop every two minutes, take an extra hour to get to your destination, and cause traffic jams, but yes, we love trams.

11. You’re a fashionista.

Like it or not, we’re into fashion in some shape or form. If you’re one of the many Melbourne hipsters, you’ll generally have one piece of clothing from a thrift shop. It’s still a fashion statement!

We’re called the fashion capital for a reason. Look at the numerous clothing stores at Chadstone Shopping Centre, Chapel Street, or Bridge Road. You’ll not find another city in Australia where people pride themselves on their image. So you’re corporate? Well, I bet you purchased that suit, shirt, and tie from Rhodes & Beckett.

The city is sprawling with chequered short-sleeve shirts, chino shorts, loafers, and of course the Blues Brothers-inspired wayfarer Ray Bans.

12. You’re a massive foodie.

We love our cafés, restaurants, and bars tucked away in countless laneways or character-filled suburbs. We know what to eat and where to eat. After all, we have the best selection of restaurants in the country and host the annual Food and Wine Festival. Just don’t expect to find us at home on a Sunday morning.

13. You’ve complained about the Myki system.

Myki, the maligned public transport ticketing system that cost over $1.5 billion of taxpayers’ money and was delayed by five years. And it still doesn’t work properly! Every Melburnian’s said “bloody Myki” at least once in their time.

14. You’ve told someone, “No dramas, mate.”

So you’ve missed your flight home: “No dramas, mate.”

So you’ve passed out on the street: “No dramas, mate.”

So you’re caught urinating in public: “No dramas, mate.”

Not much will faze us. Just relax and take it easy.

15. You’ve ended your night at the Crown Casino.

You didn’t get into a bar: casino.

You got kicked out of a bar: casino.

You’re feeling unlucky: casino.

I’m feeling lucky! CASINO!

World's largest school of rays [vid]

Mobula rays are not small creatures. They can measure two meters — about six and a half feet — from wingtip to wingtip, and they’re known for being jumpers.

So naturally the view must’ve been breathtaking when National Geographic’s new show, Untamed Americas, managed to capture a school of tens of thousands of mobula rays swarming and flying just off the coast of Baja California, Mexico. Schools of these rays can be regularly seen in the Gulf of California — though usually the schools are nowhere near this large — and some have been known to breach the water as much as two meters into the air.

These aren’t the biggest of the eagle rays — that would be the manta ray, which can measure 23 feet from tip to tip. Fortunately, mantas do not travel in schools this large…a small fishing boat caught in the middle of a manta ray breach might have some problems.